Stop Selling Community
How can “community” retain its meaning when it is used to define spaces that differ so widely?
Community isn’t an event or an amenity. It’s attention that gets written down and acted on. When that happens, people stay.
Why the word got empty
Unlike other industries, there isn’t a universal guideline for terminology that remains consistent within flex and coworking.
‘Flex’, ‘coworking’, ‘members vs occupiers’, ‘hot desk vs flex desk’ all vary by space.
Yet one word appears everywhere with a meaning people assume is shared:
community.
Community has become the headliner for every coworking space, the identifier for what separates us from traditional offices. “Come work with us, network, connect, join our community.” It is a way of distancing hybrid or remote work from the isolation of a home office. In theory, perfect.
Here is the contradiction.
If every coworking space is unique and follows its own model of operation, how can a universal word be applied? How can “community” retain its meaning when it is used to define spaces that differ so widely?
What it looks like in practice
In practice, what community looks like in coworking is simple and commonly accepted as the standard approach across sales and operations. A role with a vague title preceded by “community” sits at reception, hosts member events, runs newsletters, oversees onboarding, and so on.
This can work because the first point of contact gets to know people, builds a mental repertoire of everyone in the space, and uses that knowledge to keep them happy. When that happens, everyone wins. Existing members enjoy being in the space, and that environment supports sales to attract new members, which in turn supports the business.
More often than not, this isn’t the case.
We have all heard the stories of half-filled rooms with cold pizza cut into sixty-four slices and of spaces with high turnover because the simplest problems never get fixed. Disgruntled members, low sales, reputational damage, and more real estate than anyone knows what to do with. Where does the disconnect come from?
The answer is simple.
Community does not derive from events or amenities. You cannot foster it by checking off tasks copied from elsewhere if there is no heart behind it.
You have to know your members. That is the thing that matters. People will not feel seen, appreciated, or cared for if you do not actually see, appreciate, and care for them.
“This is not more spending. It is more attention.”
A small story
I host a weekly breakfast for our members that they adore. Plenty of spaces do the same, but no two breakfasts look alike.
Our members prefer breakfasts on the healthier side.
When I put out equal amounts of fruit and pastries, the fruit disappears and the pastries are nearly left untouched. From speaking to our members, I know some are gluten or dairy free, so I include free from granola and alternative yoghurts. I have also heard the preference for healthier choices comes partly from the perceived guilt of having an entire pastry, so I cut them into smaller pieces so people can still enjoy a sweet treat alongside fruit or yoghurt.
Result: attendance up on breakfast day, a steady flow of thank yous at the desk, and breakfast consistently listed as the number one thing members love about being in our space.
Cost per head did not increase; waste decreased.
The cost myth
“We can’t afford community.”
When revenue is tight, community is often first to be reduced. Roles are collapsed, events become token gestures, and the spiral begins: lower morale, less retention, more pressure, more cuts.
This is backwards.
Community is not an expense that drains resources.
It creates loyal members. Retention stabilises revenue. Stable revenue protects budgets. Cutting community when the budget is tight is like trying to save fuel by removing the engine.
Community needs to be more than a sticker slapped onto a struggling product to attract clients.
It is not a sales tactic.
It is a principle.
Keep the word honest
Stop selling community. Start practising it.
People want to be heard.
If you understand the unique needs of your members rather than the generic needs of any coworking space, you create an environment tailored to them, something they will not easily find elsewhere.
Community is not reserved for clients at arm’s length.
When you learn what makes your members unique, you become part of the community you are supporting.
That is where the joy is.
That is where the work feels worthwhile.
If it is not written down and acted on, it is not community.
It is decoration.
Olivia Lutz works for Venture X White City as a Community Associate; she champions building communities and adding to partnerships, engagement, and everyday performance.
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