The Case for Reinventing the Modern-Day Tribe

Human beings are inherently social creatures—a statement that, while often repeated, remains important in understanding human behaviour and how society functions. Anthropologists and historians generally agree that our early ancestors organized themselves into small tribes of about 150 individuals. This wasn’t a random arrangement but a key survival strategy that helped us succeed in difficult environments.

The customs, instincts around fairness, ethical intuitions, and behavioural patterns that emerged in these close-knit groups have stuck with us. Part of this persistence comes from tradition. But more deeply, these patterns are woven into how our brains developed. The ways we adapted to survive and cooperate in such settings didn’t just help in the short term; they shaped our long-term motivations and how we relate to one another.

These early social frameworks still influence us today. They affect how we form relationships, our sense of morality, and even our unconscious biases. If we want to understand modern human behaviour—whether in personal relationships or in broader societal systems—it helps to understand this tribal legacy. The psychological blueprint of those early communities continues to guide how we interact and what we value.

Being part of a tribe was once essential for survival. To be excluded was a serious threat, which helps explain why ostracism today can cause such deep emotional pain and anxiety. This drive to belong and cooperate is deeply rooted.

But modern society looks very different from the world our ancestors lived in. The way we live now often clashes with our psychological wiring, physiological needs, and spiritual instincts. This mismatch has led to a kind of widespread discomfort. Much of modern history has been shaped by the tension between our evolutionary design and our current way of life. The result has been a range of social challenges, many of which we've tried to address through shared ideologies, community structures, and social rules.

Religion, for much of history, has helped fill this gap. It’s brought large groups of people together, fostering a sense of belonging through shared beliefs. It’s also offered a space for spiritual connection within the community. But many religious institutions that once played this role are now in decline, with more people moving away from organized religion.

Still, there are places—especially in rural areas—where something closer to a traditional tribal feel remains. These communities offer a strong sense of support and connection. But they’re becoming increasingly rare as more people move to cities.

Some smaller, modern communities—often built around religious or quasi-tribal groups—still manage to preserve elements of the old tribal model. Churches, for instance, have helped people in larger communities stay connected through shared values and rituals. But, as noted earlier, their influence has diminished. Survey data shows a clear drop in religious affiliation over the past four decades.

As traditional support structures fade, governments and social welfare programs have stepped in to fill the gap. These systems now offer much of the help that used to come from family, tribe, or church. In Western societies especially, we’ve come to rely on institutional support for illness, hardship, and other needs. But this shift has changed how we relate to one another. In many urban settings, people live side by side but barely know their neighbours.

This isn’t a critique of social programs or a call to end them. Rather, it’s a reflection on what we’ve lost along the way: regular social contact, a sense of community, and meaningful human connection. Religious groups, when functioning well, often add a spiritual dimension to these ties, deepening the sense of belonging.

The breakdown of these connections is part of what researchers now call a “loneliness epidemic.” Loneliness affects more than just our mood—it can harm mental health, increase stress, and even raise the risk of physical illness. Urban design often makes things worse, especially in places like Canada, where there are few “third places”—public spaces where people can casually gather outside of home and work. These are spots where friendships form, ideas are exchanged, and social bonds are strengthened. In other countries, they still exist: French cafés, British pubs, Polish town squares, churches, synagogues, and other gathering places.

The good news is that even as traditional institutions decline, new paths are opening. There are more ways than ever to build community and explore spirituality. While spiritual collectives are nothing new, this moment gives us a chance to rethink and reimagine how they can meet modern needs. From the fading of the old, new things can grow. Out of disorder, there’s room for creativity. Through change, there’s the possibility of renewal. And in that renewal, we might find new ways of coming together—ways that reflect who we are now while still speaking to something timeless in us all.