Safety in Numbers: The Cost of Losing Community

I think we have all heard the phrase there is safety in numbers. But what does that look like in today's society? When the world is closer than it has ever been, but also more isolated for the same reason?

I started my morning like many of us, clearing out spam text and calls from my phone. One of those spam text actually got my attention; it used a reputable institutions name to convince the receiver they could provide debt cancellation.

Immediately I thought about the person this message was meant for; someone who might be overwhelmed by debt, watching real debt relief programs appear in the news and wondering, When will it be my turn?

If I'm being honest this made me angry, these types of scams always seem to target the most vulnerable. Whether that is the elderly, children, or just someone in a desperate situation.

That led me to a question: Why are the people who most need protection often the biggest targets?

After thinking about it for a while, I started to redefine what safety really means.

Safety is the ability to limit threats.

And in today's world, limiting threats often comes down to access: access to information, access to resources, and access to people who can help you make the right decision. Most people would do whatever it takes to feel safe. But the truth is, not everyone has the same ability to create that safety.

I remember listening to a celebrity talk about their child having a mysterious illness that doctors initially wrote off as the flu and recommended rest and fluids. After following the instruction of a couple doctors, their child became worse exhibiting what appeared to be a seizure.

They rushed the child to the emergency room where the experts told them she would need to be sent to a specialist for a lifesaving brain procedure. Panicking, they again followed the doctors' instructions and requested the best of the best to do the procedure.

Thank God they did, the child did not need brain surgery but instead a smaller less invasive procedure for what was essentially an extreme sinus infection.

It took multiple doctors and specialists before someone correctly identified the problem.

For many families, even a second medical opinion is beyond what they can afford.

Safety now comes at a cost many cannot afford.

And examples like these are everywhere. But pointing out the problem is only half the conversation. If safety has become harder to access, the real question is why.

To answer that, we have to revisit a phrase many of us grew up hearing:

“There is safety in numbers.”

The answer has been there the entire time.

For most of human history, safety truly did exist in numbers. Communities were built on physical proximity and mutual dependence. People relied on one another not just for companionship, but for survival.

Your neighbors were your first responders. Your extended family helped raise children. Local doctors knew their patients personally. Farmers, merchants, and craftsmen depended on the people around them to sustain daily life.

Safety was not purchased, it was shared. Protection came from being surrounded by people who knew you, noticed when something was wrong, and had a vested interest in your well-being.

We are far removed from colonial and tribal societies where community was not optional but essential. Of course, I don’t want to dismiss the many ways modern technology has improved life and expanded opportunity. But progress often comes with trade-offs. In gaining convenience and independence, we have also lost some of the built-in protection that once came from living closely connected to one another.

The encouraging part is that this loss may not be permanent. We have an opportunity to reclaim some of what was once freely shared in community; including the sense of safety that comes from people looking out for one another.

Rebuilding that kind of community doesn’t require us to abandon modern life or reject progress. It simply requires us to become more intentional about the way we live alongside one another.

Real safety has never been about walls, wealth, or distance from danger. It has always been about people.

People who ask questions when something doesn’t seem right.

People who share knowledge.

People who notice when someone is struggling and step in before things fall apart.

Maybe the phrase “there is safety in numbers” was never really about numbers at all. Maybe it was always about neighbors.

And perhaps the most practical place to begin rebuilding that kind of safety is simple: by creating more spaces where people can gather, talk, laugh, and truly know one another again.

Because when strangers become neighbors, safety stops being something we have to purchase; and becomes something we build together.