The sociologist Erving Goffman spent his career observing something that most of us sense. That social life is essentially a performance. That in almost every situation, on linked in, with strangers, colleagues, family members, partners, we are adapting, curating, and managing how we appear. And who are we performing for? Goffman would say, the audience. The people around us whose judgment, real or imagined, shapes how we behave. This is not a criticism. It is simply an observation about how human beings’ function in social environments. We adapt. We fit in. We manage impressions. We honour the unspoken agreements about how people are supposed to be with each other. But at what cost? How much of who we actually are, what we actually feel, think, and need, gets edited out of the performance?

We were promised that technology would bring us closer together. More friends, wider networks, deeper connection? Let's be honest about the reality. Has online dating made it easier to connect? Has social media helped young people develop more lasting, genuine relationships? Has the smartphone made us more present with the people we love? The evidence, and most people's lived experience, suggests the opposite. Technology has made it easier to avoid the very interactions that build genuine connection. You don't need to talk to someone in a bar. Difficult conversations can be texted rather than had. It's easier not to engage at all. We have created a world where the path of least resistance leads away from genuine human contact, and toward the simulation of it. The cost is significant. Social and relational intelligence, our capacity to communicate honestly, to read each other, to be genuinely present together, develops through face to face encounter. As that encounter diminishes, so does the capacity for it. And beneath all of it, beneath the scrolling and the swiping and the carefully curated feeds, there is something that doesn't go away. The desire to connect. Really connect with people in reality.

In ancient times there was the village, the tribe, the extended family. The communal fire around which people gathered, to be known, to rest in the presence of others. Where is that tribe today? The pub, the yoga studio, the gym ? The work team that stays permanently surface-level despite years of proximity. The group chat that replaces the conversation. The social media feed that simulates the village without providing any of what the village actually offered. There is a loneliness epidemic on this planet. We are more connected and more isolated than at any point in human history.

Even though many of these places exist like the pub or the gym, do we ever really connect. Is there ever the space to talk and reflect with each other, is there the opportunity to go deeper. Or is everyone just playing a role, as Erving Goffman explored, most of the time we are playing roles. The muscle-bound gym bro, the attractive yoga bunny, the city boss, the busy housewife, the tech founder, the good boy, the perfect child. When do we get to step off the stage, when do we get to take a break from a role, and step into our true self, free of the limitations of the system.

Behind it all there is something else possible. We can step out of the systemic forces and shared agreements of civilised society. Create time and space to be together and with other human beings, deepen our sense of belonging, waking up to our true potential. As I look over London, I wonder where this conversation gets to happen in this city. In answering that question, I believe it happens here. Encounter creates the space for human contact to happen. We are here to create a new conversation for all of us.