Make Communities Communal Again
A plea for greater community stewardship

There’s a common saying that in order to have a village, you have to be a villager. It’s a nice sentiment. It invokes the need for reciprocal communal interaction and exchange. It inspires hope that generosity breeds generosity, and that participation leads to mutual reward.
The problem is, if we define “villager” as someone who actively builds, maintains, and cares for the community—showing up, contributing labor, and taking responsibility for its wellbeing—the saying doesn’t hold up. Many people living in today’s villages aren’t villagers, yet they still enjoy the resources a village provides.
Elinor Ostrom, a political economist and Nobel laureate who studied the structure and effectiveness of non-state forms of governance, also known as “the commons,” showed that shared dependency creates shared responsibility. When people are mutually reliant on a resource, economic or otherwise, social cohesion and collective action naturally emerge because the population’s collective livelihood depends on it.
Yet in our post-Enlightenment, post-industrial, capitalist, atomized, neoliberal culture that prioritizes sovereignty, privatization and nuclear family structures, we purchase insurance through companies, not each other. We’re told that “like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” The incentive for mutual dependence has been co-opted by corporate-governed infrastructure.
Don’t get me wrong. Many people devote much of their time, and sometimes their entire lives, to doing what they can to foster a well-functioning community, even in the context of capitalism and modern civilization. This commitment requires exceptional dedication, generosity, and enough optimism to believe that even in the face of economic, political and cultural limitations, we can still carve out and inspire interdependence through mutual participation.
Yet because we don’t actually depend on each other for survival, the people who devote themselves to community work are vastly outnumbered by those who don’t participate. These individuals aren’t failing in their efforts; they’re simply carrying more than their fair share. They are the villagers who build and maintain the village the rest of us live in.
Fostering a “well-functioning community” can look like a lot of things. State-run, formal village, town, or city governance is essential to maintaining modern communities, overseeing the maintenance of roads and infrastructure, fire, emergency and safety services, building code legislation, and countless additional regulations. In the case of an unincorporated area, the county or a private entity, such as a Property Owners’ Association, can also be responsible for providing these services.
The management of libraries and other public spaces, food banks, physical and mental health services, a local news source, events and gatherings, waste services, and educational programs, as well as child, elder, and end-of-life care, are also necessary for maintaining well-functioning communities. On top of that, we need artists, land stewards, conflict-resolution specialists, ceremonialists, and spiritual leaders.
Depending on the location, some of these roles receive modest monetary compensation. However, in most small towns, these services only exist thanks to those who are willing to volunteer their time.
According to a 2023 report by AmeriCorps and the U.S. Census Bureau, 28.3% of Americans volunteer through a formal organization, and 54% report informal volunteering, like helping neighbors with babysitting, running errands, etc. In practice, this looks like a small group of people shouldering a disproportionate amount of communal responsibility.
In my own community, an engaged governmental official and community member estimated that about 200 of our 2,000 residents are actively involved in community infrastructure. That’s only ten percent of the local population. “It’s the same people who show up to all the meetings,” he explained. For decades, local community volunteers and public servants have struggled to maintain basic public services, crumbling under the weight and burnout of being a part of the mere ten percent that holds it all together.
I’ve often heard locals grumble that the same few people dominate public office and sit on all of the local boards, while simultaneously never bothering to step up themselves. People criticize local fire mitigation efforts, but wouldn’t dare join the fire department. Residents demand adequate news coverage, but only volunteer to write columns about spirituality or personal growth. Folks complain about long lines at the food bank while receiving free food provided by people who worked to grow and distribute that food.
This past spring, a friend of mine stepped up to revitalize two community projects that were in high demand among community members. She attended multiple town board meetings to get her proposals approved, set up new and improved systems, and in carrying out her plans, generated undeniable value for the community. All of this on top of being a single mom, running multiple businesses, and volunteering in additional community projects beyond just these two. By the fall, she was exhausted. “I did what I said I was going to do, and now it’s time for someone else to step up and take the reins,” she said.
No one has stepped up.
There are several reasons why so many of us don’t volunteer or work as minimally paid public servants. The first is because we don’t want or need to. Neither provides any tangible return beyond that good-hearted feeling you get from being generous and participating in community affairs. This is a feeling that not everyone values. We’re also victims of the bystander effect and social loafing. If we don’t do it, someone else will. No problemo.
The second reason is because we truly don’t have the time or resources to do so. A great deal of the population is concerned with daily survival, which includes working excessive hours to generate enough money to pay the bills. Hopefully, these folks are the rightful recipients of volunteerism.
The third reason is because we’re unaware of the unrelenting and grueling effort it takes to keep a community functioning. It’s so easy to make money online and live anywhere in the world. Adequate resources are provided with or without community participation. We delude ourselves into thinking we’re “sovereign beings,” while freeloading off the sweat, care, and infrastructure built by other people. We can take advantage of villages and their resources without ever becoming a villager.
After three years living in Crestone and stepping up to direct two local organizations as a volunteer, I’m already experiencing burnout and exhaustion. The worst part is the feeling of shouldering a responsibility that no one else is in a position to lift. I would love nothing more than to hand off some of what I’ve taken on to others with similar skills, dedication and reliability, but everyone I know who fits that description is already stretched just as thin. We’re all gripping the same fraying rope, committed to living in alignment with our values even at personal cost, and terrified that stepping back would mean letting our community down.
Speaking with those who have lived in and served this community for over thirty years, I know that what I’m experiencing is hardly unique. We feel validated by each other’s experience, but when it comes to solutions, we’re all at a loss.
After reading this article a couple weeks ago, I’m left haunted by the question of whether true cooperation and mutuality can exist without shared necessity. I want to believe it can, but I’m not sure it’s possible without some kind of apocalyptic crisis forcing us to depend on one another. What seems clear is that true cooperation and mutuality will remain out of reach until more people take up the responsibility of community stewardship.
I know many of us want to believe that the revitalization of villages and community life is possible. But we need to support our beliefs through action and practice. We need to be courageous enough to hold each other accountable, and humble enough to ask for support.



Communities with a shared value of participation and commitment to the good health of the ecosystem simply because it is the right thing to do are extremely hard to maintain because most humans will take the easy way, the short cut, the route that avoids difficulty, every time. Once words and good intentions have been expended, 20% will always end up carrying the water of the 80%. It’s close to being another law of thermodynamics it’s so reliable.
When already elite soldiers get selected for Delta Force, they are tested individually, and the “team” mentality, pervasive up till that point in the military, is dismissed. The reason is because they want to see how far that person is willing to go, on their own, with no end in sight, and no team to help. Because they need to know those people will complete the mission, no matter what.
I have been a community contributor and volunteer, and I have come to the conclusion that communities are hard. If people can function without participating, they would, and no one sees the necessity to get involved in an unpaid contribution to society and not self. I'm burnt out but no one else will pick up the torch when you leave it or collaborate to support you through it. Their apathy vs your empathy, one thrives, one barely survives. If the work was communally done, there will be less fatigue for the few who do it now, don't you think?