The Power of Proximity: Why the Future Is In-Person

I said something during an interview recently that's been echoing in my head around coffee chats and mindful reflections on my life. It's this: There's power in proximity. And the future belongs to those who embrace that power.

Let me explain.

Until cyborgs become indistinguishable from humans (and let's all hope that day never arrives), nothing will replace the impact of sitting across from someone, shaking their hand, or sharing a laugh in real-time. That's how we know someone is real. It's tangible. It's human.

For all the wonder that the internet brought us—and I was there in the early days, podcasting, blogging, and tweeting before algorithms took over—the digital world was once a liberating tool for finding our people, as Douglas Rushkoff calls "the others." It was a lifeline.

If you were, say, a gay person in a rural town facing isolation or discrimination, the internet could be your safe harbor. Forums, BBS boards, and social networks created authentic connections that could spill over offline and into real life, where you could find yourself by connecting with others.

The magic wasn't just in the message. It was in the meeting.

I used to organize tweetups when I traveled. I'd post on Twitter, gather strangers at a pub or café, and we'd become friends. It was magic. I wrote about it in New Business Networking—how relationships became real when sealed with a handshake, a hug, and a high five. The magic wasn't just in the message. It was in the meeting.

Back then, Twitter was more campfire than dumpster fire. There were no algorithms, just people talking and sharing. You could form friendships and build communities. And then you'd meet those people at conferences, unconferences, even casual breakfast or cocktail events. My events, like Geek Breakfast and Nashcocktail, didn't need to monetize everything. I had a day job, benefits, and security. I did it because bringing people together lit me up — and still does.

But slowly, the platforms changed. The algorithms came. The investors needed returns, and the companies needed funds to improve stability. I'd prefer seeing fail whales and kittens with screwdrivers again instead of the hot mess Twitter has become. Call me old school, but Twitter will never be X (with the exception of an ex-social network), just as T.O. will never be The Six when describing Toronto, and Lower Broad will never be Honkeytonk Highway in Nashville (seriously, I've heard people say this lately).

As the power of proximity started slipping through our fingers, social media companies fooled us into thinking things were still okay online—they are not. Even defining the word "friend" became challenging, given how Facebook redefined it.

Meanwhile, the loneliness epidemic grew. With more screens, fewer eyes met across rooms: more scrolling, less serendipity. The places we once gathered — pubs, cafés, even offices — began to fade. I had a conversation with Professor Robin Dunbar, the evolutionary psychologist famous for Dunbar's Number (how many people we can maintain genuine relationships with), and he noted that pubs across the UK and Ireland are closing at an alarming rate. That matters. Pubs aren't just about pints. They are about presence—meeting and conversing with people from different walks of life.

This young couple met and got to know one another in pubs. They turned out okay. :)

Strangely enough, McDonald's has stepped into this role. In rural areas, elderly folks without access to country clubs or community centers now meet at the almighty golden arches. They sit in the corners with coffee and tiny burgers—not for the food, but for the company (well, maybe the fries and shakes). And you know what? Learning this made me rethink such junk food chains. Who knew they could contribute to our health in such a positive way, because widespread loneliness in the US poses health risks as deadly as smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day. Real-life connection matters!

Smartphones are the new cigarettes.

Here's what I believe now: Smartphones are the new cigarettes. In twenty years, we'll look at pictures of ourselves — and especially our kids — buried in screens and wonder, What were we thinking? Just like parents used to smoke at the dinner table and in the car, we've handed them distraction machines and called it normal. But it's not.

This isn't a rant against technology. I love tech. I've been podcasting for twenty years. I've built a career on communication strategy. But I also believe that eye contact, presence, and physical closeness matter more than ever. In the early days of podcasting, meeting listeners in person was surreal — they'd ask about my kid's diaper rash, and I'd be momentarily thrown until I remembered: Oh, right. You actually know me and listen to our parenting podcast. That's the kind of bond podcasts used to build. We lose this when people start podcasts to get-rich-quick (they never do). These days, I'm proud of how Wise Squirrels listeners are coming together, and we are beginning to build a real community (more on that soon if you're following the show).

Algorithms prioritize outrage.

And social media today? It's not the same. The magic is rare. Algorithms prioritize outrage. Bots and deepfakes blur the line between real people and real good. I wouldn't start a relationship on social networks today — not because I'm antisocial, but because I don't know if the person messaging me is even a human when AI can fool even the savviest, and this is only going to get worse with no legislation and oversight.

This all might sound nostalgic — and maybe it is — but I don't think it's naïve. I think it's urgent.

We want to connect. We need to gather. And if we're not intentional about creating spaces for proximity—meetups, community events, retreats, shared workspaces, neighborhood pubs without TVs — we're going to forget how. The power is in proximity.

So what's next?

❤️ I want to be part of that solution.

I want to connect with organizations that educate parents, educators, and young people about the dangers of addictive technology, misinformation, disinformation, and artificial intelligence.

I believe we can do better. And I want to be part of that solution.

Over the years, I've discovered that my real strengths — my superpowers — are connection, communication, and authenticity. I have a knack for helping people feel seen, heard, and understood, especially those who often feel overlooked. I think fast, feel deeply, and use humor, empathy, and my communication skills to open up space for honest, human conversation. Whether at an event, on stage, in a coaching session, or just sharing a coffee or pint (non-alcoholic, please), I help people find clarity, confidence, community, and a stronger sense of themselves. I have also been known to become hyper-focused on causes I care deeply about and to become an outspoken advocate.

Where you come in...

Tell me, who should I know? What organizations, companies, or communities are leading the charge to reconnect us, in person and with purpose?

I appreciate you, and I look forward to hearing from you with your suggestions and connections. Thanks for reading until the end, I guess our attention spans aren't entirely shot - yet. 😉