In Praise of Showing Up

Rebuilding Human Connection in the Face of Fracture

Yes, I get the irony: I’m about to make a case for face-to-face interaction . . . on a social media platform.

But that doesn’t make it any less necessary or urgent.

Yesterday, I attended the No-Kings protest in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I brought my two kids. My mom came too. She came of age in the early 1970s, walking the line between a conservative small town and a household led by my grandmother—a tough, sharp-witted feminist who raised five daughters with strong voices of their own.

After the protest, my mom was visibly energized.

“It felt so good to be among my people,” she said.

That sentiment—simple, joyful, deeply human—reminded me of something we too often forget: we are stronger together, not just in ideology but also in presence.

The Illusion of Connection

It’s never been easier to connect. And yet it’s never been harder to feel truly connected.

Our attention is scattered across screens. We drown in content, scroll through catastrophe, and mistake commentary for community. We’ve become victims of algorithms that prey on our most basic emotions—fear, anger, desire for validation—with mathematical precision, as Niall Ferguson explores in Networld. These systems don’t just shape our behavior; they hijack it. The net effect is that our sense of agency and solidarity is quietly eroded: even in a crowded room—or a packed feed—we can feel desperately alone. This kind of alienation breeds cynicism. And cynicism breeds surrender.

Worse still, it frays the fabric that makes democracy work: trust.

We can’t afford that anymore.

Rapport: The Foundation of Everything

My background in human intelligence taught me many things, but one lesson towers above the rest: rapport is everything.

Now, rapport isn’t warm fuzzies. It isn’t even “getting along.” In fact, rapport can be negative—an understanding that someone or some institution will respond badly to a particular affront. That’s valuable knowledge. Rapport, properly understood, is more about trust and comprehension than affection or agreement. It’s knowing how someone will behave, what motivates them, where the lines are drawn.

And that kind of understanding is almost impossible to build without being in the same room.

You can quote stats about how 80% of communication is nonverbal—or you can just accept what we all intuitively feel: there’s something about being physically present with someone that deepens understanding in ways we can’t always articulate. Whether it’s tone, timing, posture, or energy, something essential gets lost in translation when we mediate every interaction through screens.

Rapport is built with our full selves. And that’s the foundation upon which community rests. Not agreement. Not ideology. But shared understanding.

Finding Common Ground in an Age of Division

This isn’t just about building trust with those who already see the world the way we do. If we’re going to hold this country together—or even just make it a little less combustible—we have to try to find commonality with people we disagree with. That doesn’t mean ignoring injustice or papering over hard truths. It means seeking out real conversations where we listen more than we speak. It means recognizing the humanity behind the opinions that challenge or even enrage us. You may not change their mind—but they may walk away seeing you as a person rather than a caricature. And that alone is a win.

Sometimes that commonality is entirely in the margins: you might disagree on the most relevant points profoundly but still recognize common ground in other aspects of life that just don't come through when the interactions are filtered through an app.

Common ground doesn’t mean compromise on your values. It means choosing to engage with complexity, rather than withdraw into certainty. And that almost always happens best when we show up in person.

The Other Side of This Truth

But let me be candid: this advice cuts both ways.

Showing up in person is about rebuilding trust. Yes. It’s about preventing things from getting worse. Yes.

But it’s also about preparing for the possibility that they will get worse.

Ousting authoritarianism has never succeeded through tweets. It’s accomplished by networks—tight-knit, discreet, high-trust communities rooted in personal relationships. Those networks can’t be built after the emergency hits.

One of the core principles of U.S. Special Operations Forces is this:

"Competent Special Operations Forces cannot be created after emergencies occur."

The same is true for the underground networks that will matter most if this experiment in democracy falters. The ones that protect the vulnerable. Move information. Shelter those at risk. Coordinate resistance.

And here’s something uncomfortable but very real: when push comes to shove, ideology takes a back seat to risk calculus. The question isn’t just who agrees with you. It’s who is willing to stick their neck out for you. Who’s willing to take a risk, not just for a cause, but for you personally.

As highlighted in the Joint Special Operations University report Human Factors Considerations of Undergrounds in Insurgencies, such networks depend on trust-based, in-person bonds, social cohesion, and accurate perceptions of loyalty. The report emphasizes that underground networks succeed not only by operational design but also by the interpersonal fabric woven well in advance of crises. You need to know your community: who shows up, who steps up, and who stays silent.

The time to find those people is now, while we still have the freedom to move, speak, and gather.

A Note from the Younger Generation

We’d do well to listen to the younger generation, who tell us—often with ironic memes but surprising insight—to “go outside and touch grass.” Maybe they understand something we’ve forgotten. That the world we’re trying to save isn’t on a screen. It’s out here, with one another.

Maybe they know that we’ve lost something worth fighting for.

And maybe they’re right.

So What Do We Do?

We rebuild community—not just with our friends, but with our neighbors. Not just with people we like, but with those we need to understand.

We build networks—trust-based, in-person, attentive to nuance, and strong enough to withstand both political pressure and personal risk.

We show up. Protest. Volunteer. Meet. Listen. Risk.

Because face-to-face interaction isn’t sentimental, it’s strategic.

It’s how we reclaim what’s been lost—and how we protect what still remains.

Nathan M. F. Charles, Esq.

www.charlesinternationallaw.com