Last week I read, for the first time, the phrase ‘social recession’ in a Guardian headline above an opinion piece by Britain’s former (conservative) prime minister, Gordon Brown.
It turns out the earliest use of the noun ‘social recession’ was in the 1930s and it denotes a period of decline in societal wellbeing, characterised by diminishing social cohesion, trust and capacity for collective action. This phenomenon represents a degradation of the societal fabric, impacting aspects such as civic engagement, interpersonal connections and community resilience.
It extends beyond economic indicators, focusing on the deterioration of social capital and the shared sense of purpose essential for societal progress. Such a decline compromises a community’s ability to address shared challenges and maintain stability.
Despite being unfamiliar with the phrase, I instantly recognised the concept.
In a world of Insta-overload, reduced face-to-face interactions and a decline in community engagement, we have, for the vast majority, lost so many ways to make meaningful connections with those we inhabit the earth with.
As Brown pointed out, over the last four decades we have lost so many ways to meet our neighbours and concludes that making that easier can only be good for society.
“It is a sobering fact that almost 50 percent of British adults are not members of any community organisation of any kind, neither a civic association nor church nor faith group, nor even a sports club,” he wrote.
And while Brown was talking about the decline specific to Britain, a survey of more than 30,000 people in 20 countries provided compelling evidence that, in tandem with economic decline, civic decline helps explain the widespread loss of trust, a nostalgia for the past and lower levels of tolerance that are the surface manifestations of what is a deep and widespread dissatisfaction with the status quo.
Data paints an even more sobering picture, one of 11- to 24-year-olds growing up in ‘bleak world’ shaped by the pandemic and social media who report having no close friends.
It can all seem a world away from our tight-knit island community, particularly if you were at Te Huruhi School on Sunday for our annual Kotahi Aroha Festival, which has community spirit, unity and love positively bursting out the doors, not to mention an army of parent volunteers fundraising outside for their various kura.
Yet even here on the motu, we are not immune. Over the last decade we have seen the cessation of so many community festivals; the Onetangi Beach Races, the Wharf to Wharf, the dirt track’s Guy Fawks fireworks display and the Great Gulf News Trolley Derby. All bi-partisan events that brought us together in celebration and fun. All fallen victim to the vast amounts of red tape and expense involved in putting them on. Not to mention worn out volunteers, where there is capacity to volunteer at all amid the weekly grind of keeping food on the table, a roof over heads and paying the winter power bill.
Recent Auckland-wide transport reforms, with the Waiheke Local Board getting full control of the island’s entire road network (Gulf News, 3 September), may open the way for some of them to make a return – but it will take no mean effort from community organisations and local volunteers to bring them back to life.
Brown also notes that recent evidence shows areas without quality local news see the least civic activity and are more prone to online misinformation and support should be given to local newspapers. We can see clear evidence of this in last year’s local body elections, which saw less than one out of every three Aucklanders eligible to vote do so. It was the areas with a strong local newspaper that had the best voter turnout – although it was still not great.
Aotea Great Barrier had the highest with 53.6 percent – they are served by the Barrier Bulletin – followed by Waiheke with 49.2 percent. Coming in third was the Rodney District, covered by the various Local Matters titles. These are all independent community newspapers with a razor sharp focus on local issues, community events, sports groups and letters sections and who give real ‘column inches’ to the minutiae of life in their neck of the woods.
Brown concludes that “it is when neighbours no longer talk of ‘the school’, ‘the hospital’, ‘the library’ and ‘the community centre’, or even ‘my school’, ‘my hospital’, ‘my library’ and ‘my community centre’, but instead speak of ‘our school’, ‘our hospital’, ‘our library’ and ‘our community centre’, that we will know a community has been reborn and there is a renewed sense that we are all part of a shared future.”
Making that easier can only be good for all society.
His solution, as part of a nationwide consultation on rebuilding community life, calls for plans to extend spending and decision-making beyond local authorities downwards to local communities – empowering a new generation of active citizens.
This, he says, must be complemented by a boom in civic participation and legislating “participatory budgeting to allocate funding for local services, and designing services to be much more accessible to people”.
It also goes a long way to explaining why so many people visiting our island for the first time instantly recognise there is something special here, and often leave only to move here permanently at the earliest opportunity… that’s if they leave at all. In the pages of our papers we have told many stories of those who fell in love with the island instantly ‘and just never left’.
Perhaps that is why, on our small motu, we refer to it not as ‘a community’, nor even ‘my community’ but always ‘our community’.
Aren’t we lucky? But it certainly doesn’t happen by accident.
• Merrie Hewetson
© Gulf News & Waiheke Weekender Ltd 2026
