The 5 Magic Numbers of Community
Community is always our container.
No matter who we are and where we go, community is the context of our existence. It’s the relational setting in which our lives unfold.
And whether we’re talking about personal healing or communal repair (which, of course, are deeply linked together), the communities we exist within are vital to our survival.
But here’s something I’ve always found fascinating:
The size and shape of a community tend to matter quite a bit – not all communities hold us or embolden us in quite the same ways.
For example, hanging out with a small group of friends following a breakup is a very different experience than going to a giant concert – although both can be helpful and healing. Attending a large political protest can be energizing and offer a feeling of forward momentum, while targeted activism in the smaller, quieter spaces can foster togetherness and a sense of focused impact.
Priya Parker, author of The Art of Gathering and an expert in conflict resolution and community-building, offers the following framework for thinking about the different sizes of the communities and gatherings we move and interact within.
As you read, I invite you to think about your communal experiences and which fit into each category.
Priya Parker’s 5 Magic Numbers of Community
6: Intimacy and Depth
At this size, a group is “wonderfully conducive to intimacy, high levels of sharing, and discussion through storytelling.”
These are our intimate family and friend networks, our small Thursday dinners, the couple of people we invite to go bowling on a Saturday night. In the midst of our activism, having a group of this size can keep us honest, engaged, and consistent.
Our small communities are spaces where we can be seen for who we are and where we can see others for who they are.
An example from my life: from 2021-2022, a group of four friends and I got together on Zoom each week to check in and hold each other accountable for our solidarity work.
12 to 15: Diversity and Connection
Still small enough for intimacy, a group of 12-15 folks offers something a gathering of 4-6 does not: a diversity of opinions and life experiences.
This is Parker’s “magic number” for problem-solving and creatively finding new ways forward. In these size of communities, we can know each other, but there’s still a “quotient of mystery” that offers doorways to unforeseen learnings, disagreements, and rubbing shoulders in unfamiliar ways.
In terms of building our individual and collective resiliency, these spaces are vital for us to have in our lives – they serve as communal containers in which to come face-to-face with discomfort, the charge of tension, and the invitation into constructive struggle.
An example from my life: my current workplace.
30: Entering a Party
This is when the buzz of energy takes hold.
These spaces are usually too large to hold a single conversation and are therefore dynamic, a bit unwieldily, and teeming with possibility. Communities of this size have texture. Think about the last time you were in a communal space of 30 folks: pockets of different conversations, a variety of emotions being held all around you, intersecting understandings of norms and values.
In our communities of this size, we can come together around a common issue and there’s space to address it in entirely different ways.
An example from my life: when I was teaching, this is how I experienced full-staff meetings. A bit chaotic, certainly unwieldily, committed to a similar goal, but doing it in our own unique ways.
150: The Edges of a Community
A community of 150 people is large enough that not everyone will know each other deeply, but small enough that a shared identity or purpose can hold it together.
At their healthiest, this might be the size of a thriving coworking space, a well-connected neighborhood, or a community organization. There can be an abundance of disagreement and a variety of life experiences, but also enough coherence for a sense of belonging. It’s worth noting this also lines up with anthropologist Robin Dunbar’s “Dunbar’s Number” – the maximum number of stable friendships a human can have at a time.
An example from my life: when I attended political party meetings in my Seattle-activist days. I didn't know everyone by name and we definitely didn't all agree, but there was a sense of belonging rooted in shared struggle.
Tides of Humanity:
These are the too-large-to-be-a-community communities.
Mass protests, the World Cup, Taylor Swift concerts, Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
Parker says “these are gatherings where the goal is not so much intimacy or connection as tapping into the convulsive energy of a massive crowd.”
While not sustainable for more than a day or two (if that), these giant group experiences often give us a sense of being part of something bigger than us, connection to the collective, and a mysterious feeling of togetherness that doesn’t require much more than a smile while standing in line or a shared laugh over a dropped pizza slice.
These spaces remind us of our shared humanity.
An example from my life: the J. Cole concert I attended in 2017.
