I pastor a church in a town that doesn’t have a Starbucks. If you’re looking for a snack or coffee, you could stop at our family-owned bakery, but one of the locals may actually try to strike up a conversation. It may cause anxiety if you’re used to being just a name on a cup. But this aversion to being known reveals the need and promise of real places—whether local bakeries or the local church.
Starbucks didn’t set out to provide an anonymous experience. Its “third place” philosophy sought to create the go-to place away from home or work “where everyone is welcome [to] gather, as a community, to share great coffee and deepen human connection.” Such third places have existed for generations in local cafés, hair salons, and community centers.
The only way for Starbucks to expand the concept to its 30,000 stores across the world was to emphasize a consistent and repeatable atmosphere and quality. Whether you’re in London or Singapore or Dallas, you’ll find the same emerald sheen, the same seasonal aromas, the same customer experience. But are these carbon-copy third places able to deepen human connection?
Retailers like Starbucks have tapped into a deeper societal shift. We’ve grown to love non-places—airports, shopping malls, and chain restaurants that often lack true human connection and have no unique history, no quirky design, no familiar faces. We are users of these places, autonomous and separate from them. We can step in and out without anyone noticing. The digital world has taken this to an extreme with virtual non-places like social media and gaming networks, where we can live a kind of disembodied existence. Read More
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