As a freelance writer, I spend a lot of my time in contented isolation. But lately I’ve been appreciating a particular kind of social network. It’s not my intimate circle of family and friends, wonderful though that is. It’s not the choppy, wide-open seas of Twitter and Facebook, though those have their place as well. The kind of network I’m talking about is looser than a family, more trustworthy than any real or virtual crowd, and more or less egalitarian. I think of it as a tribe.
Two of my tribes have been busy in recent weeks: I just co-edited a book written by more than 30 friends, all members of a network of science writers called SciLance. I’ve also connected and reconnected with alums of my alma mater, Reed College, through the Switchboard, a student-built network where Reedies of all ages ask for and offer internships, career advice, spare rooms and so on.
Dunbar’s number suggests that the maximum size of a stable social network is about 150 people. While SciLance has 30-odd members, the Switchboard is open to tens of thousands. Yet both have managed to lure notoriously independent, cocktail-party-averse types into enthusiastic daily communication with their fellow humans. (I once got a college-reunion pitch that began, “You may think you’re the only person who didn’t know a soul at Reed …”) In both cases, the results are surprisingly powerful, helping everyone do better than they would have on their own.
What makes these tribes work?






Ann: Richard, this subject is a departure for you. What is the subject, anyway? 