Wellington is in a Social Recession. Here’s a 5-Point Plan to Fix It

There’s a quietness to Wellington these days. Beyond the empty office buildings and shop fronts and the debates about urban renewal, there is a deeper, more personal stillness. We seem to be in a collective doldrum, a social malaise that began long before the pandemic but has been accelerated by it. We are retreating from each other.

This isn’t just a feeling; it’s a measurable global phenomenon. Recent analysis has shown a dramatic drop in socialisation over the last 20 years. In 2003, the average American spent three hours a month partying; today, it’s just 90 minutes. For young people, the drop is a staggering 70%. In his seminal 2000 book, Bowling Alone, Harvard’s Robert Putnam rang the alarm bell on declining social capital. At the time, critics dismissed his fears, pointing to the internet as a great connector. They were wrong. What we are now seeing is a social recession on top of a social recession.

We know exactly where that time has gone: into screens. We look at glass more than we see people. Even our “social media” has become a passive form of television; Meta recently revealed that over 90% of the time people spend on Facebook or Instagram is not spent interacting with friends, but just watching videos.

This is the great curse of convenience. It has never been easier to be alone. But a life of convenience is often a life devoid of meaning. The most meaningful moments we have are with people, outside our homes. The social retreat is not just a tragedy; it is a public health crisis, coinciding with skyrocketing rates of anxiety and depression, especially among the young.

This is not a problem that will fix itself. But in this crisis lies an opportunity for Wellington. While other cities focus on infrastructure and economic growth alone, we can choose to architect something far more valuable: a city that actively, and brilliantly, fosters human connection. We can lead the world in this.

Here is a five-point plan to do it.

1. Launch a "Social Fitness" Campaign

We understand physical fitness. We schedule gym sessions and tell ourselves to go even when we don’t feel like it. We need to start treating our social lives with the same discipline. Social connection is a muscle; if you don’t use it, it atrophies, making each subsequent interaction feel harder.

The city should launch a "Social Fitness" campaign, partnering with community centres, sports clubs, and businesses. Let’s create a public narrative that reframes socialising not as a leisure activity, but as a core pillar of public health. Let’s create low-stakes events—walking groups, board game nights, community talks—and brand them as what they are: a workout for our collective well-being.

2. Prioritise "Social Infrastructure" and Experiment with Access

A connected city is a design choice. For too long, our urban planning has prioritised the movement of cars over the connection of people. This means investing in "social infrastructure": more public squares with comfortable seating, more car-free zones, and more safe, well-lit public spaces that invite spontaneous interaction.

But we must also address the financial barriers to connection. This may be controversial, but perhaps our current parking fee structure is actively working against bringing people together. We should launch a bold experiment: trial periods of free or subsidised city parking on evenings and weekends. Let's measure the impact—not just on economic activity for our struggling hospitality sector, but on the very vibrancy and social buzz of our city centre.

3. Build an Intergenerational Connection Corps

We have two groups who are often most affected by loneliness: the young and the elderly. At the same time, research on "Superagers"—people in their 80s with the memory of someone in their 50s—found that the single biggest correlating factor was a high degree of social connection.

Let’s build a formal "Intergenerational Connection Corps." This city-led programme would partner schools with retirement villages for mentorship and skill-sharing. Let’s have seniors teach young people practical skills like mending or gardening, and have our youth teach seniors how to navigate the digital world. This would build social skills in the young, provide purpose for the old, and weave a stronger, more resilient social fabric for us all.

4. Champion Physical Connection Over Digital Default

Digital connection has its place. It is a lifeline for communities who may find it hard to find each other in the real world. But for many, the balance has got out of kilter. It has become a convenient but unsatisfying substitute for the real thing.

We need to consciously champion and promote physical connection. This means creating an environment that makes real-world independence for our young people safer and easier. Let’s support initiatives like "play streets," where residential roads are temporarily closed to traffic, allowing children to play freely and neighbours to connect. Let's invest in low-cost, local sports and clubs. By making real-world interaction more attractive and accessible, we gently shift the balance back from the digital default, helping young people build the social confidence they need to flourish as adults.

5. Appoint a Social Capital Commissioner

To make this real, we must make it official. Wellington should be the first city in New Zealand to appoint a Social Capital Commissioner, or a "Minister for Connection." This role’s sole focus would be to measure, foster, and advocate for the social health of our city. They would be responsible for implementing the initiatives above and ensuring that social connection is a key performance indicator for our city's success, right alongside economic growth and housing development.

Wellington is at a crossroads. We can continue down a path of quiet retreat, or we can make a bold, deliberate choice to become the most socially connected capital city in the world. To be fair, there’s no shortage of ideas about what to do about Wellington. But there is a distinct lack of meaningful action. 

The time for just talking about the problem is over. It is time to start building.