The power of virtual communities
by Erica Buehler
Illustration by Gab K De Jesus. Our nonprofit generates funding in multiple ways, including through affiliate linking. When you purchase something through an affiliate link on this site, the price will be the same for you as always, but we may receive a small percentage of the cost.
If you’d asked me five years ago how I envisioned spending a Wednesday night at 28, I probably would’ve suggested something generic — going out to dinner, watching TV, maybe engaging in a hobby or grabbing a drink with a friend. While I do those activities regularly, Wednesday nights have become an online routine for me; they’re often spent playing video games on camera and chatting with a small audience of viewers.
Sometimes, I play the games with people in the audience — they, too, are on camera for this, so I know what a few of them look like — and throughout the week, we chat constantly on a social media messaging platform called Discord. We share space in communities built to organize threads of conversation based on shared interests (the foundation of which is video games) and we interact all the time.
Sincerity behind screens
By the time this is published, I will have met several of them in person, thanks to the kinds of conventions that bring internet users together. But as I write this, I only have firsthand confirmation that two of these people truly exist in the physical world. And yet I spend a good chunk of my time every day exchanging with these people, some of whom live miles, time zones, and continents away from me.
But the profound thing about these relationships is just how genuine they are. Somehow, via some combination of shared words and experiences, I have come to trust these people — people who would otherwise be described as strangers. I confide in them and they in me; we celebrate our respective wins; and we offer comfort and kindness during difficult times. All because we bonded over liking video games.
The Entertainment Software Association found that “88 percent of players say video games can bring together different types of people, and 83 percent agree that video games create a feeling of community.” In fact, around 83 percent of players say video games can introduce people to new friends and relationships, with nearly half confirming that they’ve met a friend, spouse, or significant other through video games.
Books are generally things you read alone (and maybe discuss at an hour-long book club once a month); movies are watched in a theater with other people that you’re encouraged not to talk to, but video games? They’re interactive experiences that you can have alone, with friends, or with an audience, and that’s part of what makes them special. So it’s really no surprise that such a dynamic medium fosters dynamic communities as a result.
Gab K De Jesus
Fulfilling the social need
The COVID pandemic forced most of us inside for an extended period. Though virtual communities have existed for as long as the internet has, there was something about social interactions being so suddenly and severely restricted that people flocked to apps with messaging capabilities to satisfy the innate need to connect. Zoom’s revenue skyrocketed as it became the tool for staying connected, social media use increased, and the already-growing wave of influencers saw an opportunity — that is, plenty of time — to create and post.
Since the exponential rise of social media influencers in the last decade, parasocial relationships have become a regular part of life for many, though they’re certainly not new. Any celebrity you’ve dutifully followed is likely a parasocial relationship you’ve been part of. As a result, they’ve also become a fascinating topic of study — are they inherently good? Inherently bad? A mix of both? I’d argue that being any kind of internet or social media personality is often a position of power, and with any kind of power, it should be wielded responsibly and can be good or bad, depending on how it’s used.
In-person relationships can be difficult to foster. Making friends as an adult is not easy, but there’s a flexibility in online communities that allows individuals to show up however they are and whenever they can, and to find the environments that perfectly fit their needs. Parasocial relationships and virtual communities can have many benefits, including easing loneliness and providing validation, but they also come with risks. At the end of the day, it’s all about balance. While virtual communities shouldn’t replace all in-person communities, they provide a pleasant supplement to our need for social interaction and a sense of connection. Sometimes, they’re the primary source.
As a Twitch streamer (a small one, but one nonetheless), I am hyper-aware of the vulnerability that I’m offering up when I present myself on screen. I’m being perceived by people I can’t see and whose intentions I can never fully know, and yet more often than not, the fear and anxiety are completely overshadowed by the joy and comfort of simply hanging out with my friends.
As Ian Donley puts it, “There’s strength in numbers. Online communities give us that.” When we feel supported, we thrive. So, when I take stock of the fact that people from various places around the globe are consciously and intentionally choosing to spend time with me — and are sometimes so generous that they pay to watch my attempts at gaming — I experience a delight and feeling of acceptance that’s unparalleled by any other experience.