As of 2025, the average person spends over 7 hours looking at their phone screen. An easy goal considering how successful our algorithms have become at hijacking our attention and heightening our nervous systems every 47 seconds (the average TikTok length).
The instant gratification of immediate entertainment, immediate answers, immediate access to others - aka the simulated experience of community - has atrophied our conversational skills and rejection sensitivity, a crucial combination for actual community building.
We have become addicted to the feedback loop of our favorite social apps, due in part to the advanced machine learning used to feed us exactly what we want. These loops hit our brain’s sweet spot, somewhere between curiosity, addiction and escapism we stay tuned for hours in anxious anticipation of “whats next”, hoping something better is one swipe away.
And suddenly the whole day has passed and you haven't actually talked to another human.
Attention disguised as connection.
We know this is not healthy for us, in fact a lot of smart people have collected the data to prove just how bad it is: heightened nervous systems, fried attention spans, disrupted sleeping patterns, pushed consumption, and of course increased loneliness. But our attention keeps getting involuntarily stolen via dopamine hits, no wonder we lose the battle with our phones on the daily.
So the art of hanging out is fading because we can’t handle not being constantly stimulated.
Showing up in community is now all about being perceived by an audience, especially online where a persona can be carefully constructed and a personality can be monetized via becoming a brand. No wonder everyone is so anxious to be perceived IRL - it requires a break from the digital facade.
But while we’ve all been busy existing in the cloud and consuming content, our tangible third places have quietly dwindled in the background. Many of the spaces that once invited casual connection - cafés, bars, even bookstores - now come with an unspoken expectation: spend money, or don’t stay too long.
Privatized food- and beverage-focused spots rely on table turnover, not lingering. And when it comes to public spaces, the challenges don’t disappear - from hostile architecture meant to deter loitering, to limited public transit or low walkability that limits access. In short, finding a place to simply be, without spending, scrolling, or being moved along is becoming harder than ever.
But the cost isn’t just a few wasted hours or screen-fatigued eyes, it’s a slow erosion of something deeper. Of real connection. Of casual conversation. Of our ability to stumble into new friendships, overhear a great idea, or feel a low-key sense of belonging that comes from being in a room full of strangers who might become something more. We’re not just losing time, we’re losing place. And with that, the chance to feel part of something alive and shared.
But if there’s one thing I’ve discovered (admittedly by accident, thanks to my dog’s daily insistence on neighborhood walks) it’s that community isn’t gone. It’s just quieter now. Community is happening in the in-between spaces: in loosely organized park meetups, zine fairs in backyards, burger joint vinyl sessions, and intimate readings held in someone's living room. Somewhere between the extremes of dolce far niente and your overpriced cocktail bar, there’s a collective desire to gather without the performance.
And that’s where Funktion comes in. We are not the solution, but a tool. A way to resurface what’s already happening, highlighting all kinds of events, spaces, and people that might otherwise go unnoticed. A reminder that you don’t need to be on a guest list to belong. You just need to show up. IRL.
Hope to see your at the functions!
-Vivian
owner & freelance flâneur