Walk through any small town in New Zealand on a Friday night, and you’ll see the same thing: a group of people laughing over coffee at the local hall, or a quiet game of cards in the back room of a pub. These aren’t just random gatherings-they’re the last breaths of something older, deeper, and quieter than social media: social clubs.
People ask, "Are social clubs still around?" as if they’re relics from a time when men in suits met for gin and cigars, and women gathered for tea and needlepoint. But the truth is, they never really left. They just changed shape.
What social clubs actually looked like-then and now
Forty years ago, social clubs were often tied to work, religion, or ethnicity. The Rotary Club, the Returned Services Association, the Italian Women’s Association, the Lions Club-these weren’t just places to hang out. They were safety nets. If you lost your job, someone there knew someone who needed a hand. If your kid got sick, someone brought soup. If you were lonely, someone remembered your name.
Today, you won’t find many clubs with formal memberships and printed newsletters. But you’ll find the same energy in different forms. The book club that meets every second Tuesday at the library. The walking group that starts at the waterfront at 7 a.m. sharp. The knitting circle in the back of the community center that’s grown so big they’ve split into two. The men’s shed where retirees fix bikes, build birdhouses, and talk about their grandkids.
These aren’t called "social clubs" anymore. But they serve the same purpose: connection without algorithms.
Why people are walking away from apps and back to real spaces
It’s 2025, and the average person spends over four hours a day on their phone. Yet, loneliness is at an all-time high. A 2024 Health Ministry survey in New Zealand found that 42% of adults under 35 say they have no one they can rely on for a serious conversation. That’s up from 28% in 2019.
Why? Because scrolling doesn’t build trust. Likes don’t show up when your car breaks down. DMs don’t remember your birthday.
People are tired of curated lives. They want messy, real, unfiltered interaction. That’s why clubs are making a quiet comeback-not in the flashy, branded way of influencer meetups, but in the slow, steady way of regular people showing up, week after week.
In Wellington, the "After Work Walkers" group started with three people in 2022. Now it has over 120 members. No app. No sign-up form. Just a sign on the library door: "Walks every Thursday at 5:30. Bring a jacket. No pressure."
Who’s joining now-and why
It’s not just retirees. It’s not just women. It’s not just people with time to kill.
Young parents are joining play-and-chat groups because they’re tired of isolated mornings at home. Single professionals are finding their people through board game nights at the local café. Immigrants are forming language exchange clubs because they want to speak without fear of being misunderstood.
One woman I spoke to, Maria, moved from the Philippines to Dunedin in 2023. She didn’t know anyone. She didn’t speak fluent English. She found a local "Tea and Talk" group through a flyer on the community board. Now, she runs it. "I didn’t come here to be alone," she told me. "I came here to belong."
These groups don’t ask for resumes. They don’t care if you’re "successful." They care if you show up.
The hidden rules of modern social clubs
Old clubs had bylaws. New clubs have unwritten rules-and they work better.
- No pressure to talk. Silence is okay. You don’t have to perform.
- No sales pitches. No one’s selling you a course, a membership, or a supplement.
- No hierarchy. No president. No committee. Just people who like being there.
- No digital gatekeeping. You don’t need to follow them on Instagram to join.
- No expiry date. You can miss a week. Two weeks. A month. They’ll still be there.
These rules aren’t written down. They’re lived. And that’s what makes them strong.
Where to find them-no Google search needed
You won’t find modern social clubs on Eventbrite or Meetup. You’ll find them where people still gather in person.
- Community centers-especially in smaller towns
- Public libraries-they often host quiet groups you wouldn’t expect
- Local cafés with bulletin boards
- Church halls and community halls-even if you’re not religious
- Hardware stores and gardening centers-they’re full of people who like fixing things
- Volunteer groups-cooking meals, planting trees, cleaning beaches
Ask a librarian. Ask a barista. Ask someone who’s been in town for ten years. They’ll know. And they’ll point you to the next meeting.
What you get that you can’t get online
When you show up to a real group, you get something no algorithm can replicate:
- Shared silence. Sitting next to someone reading a book, knowing you’re both there for the same reason.
- Accidental friendships. The person you sit beside by chance ends up being your person.
- Consistency. The same faces, week after week. That’s how trust builds.
- Ownership. You help clean up. You bring the tea. You remember someone’s dog died last month. That’s how belonging works.
Online groups are easy to leave. Real ones? You don’t leave. You just come back.
Is this just nostalgia?
No. This isn’t about longing for the past. It’s about rejecting the present.
Technology promised connection. But what it gave us was distraction. We have more "friends" than ever. But fewer people who know our real name.
Modern social clubs aren’t trying to replace Facebook. They’re offering something better: a place where you’re not a profile. You’re a person.
And in a world that’s louder than ever, that’s the quietest revolution of all.
What to do if you want to start one
You don’t need permission. You don’t need a budget. You don’t need a website.
Here’s how it actually works:
- Find one other person who wants the same thing.
- Choose a simple, regular time and place-like "every Tuesday at 6 p.m. at the corner park" or "first Friday of the month at the library reading room".
- Make it open-ended. "Come if you want. Stay as long as you like. Bring a snack if you can."
- Put up a paper sign somewhere people look-library, café, community board.
- Don’t overthink it. Don’t make a Facebook page. Don’t collect emails. Just show up.
That’s it. The rest grows on its own.
One man in Nelson started a "Coffee and Quiet" group because he missed talking to people without his phone buzzing. Two years later, it’s the largest group in town. He still doesn’t have a website.
Are social clubs only for older people?
No. While some groups are made up of retirees, many are led by people in their 20s and 30s. Young parents, new immigrants, and single professionals are joining-and starting-groups that focus on shared interests like walking, cooking, reading, or fixing things. The key isn’t age-it’s the need for real, low-pressure connection.
Do I need to pay to join a social club?
Most modern social clubs don’t charge anything. Some might ask for a small contribution toward tea or coffee, but there’s never a membership fee. If someone asks for money upfront, it’s probably not a true social club-it’s a business disguised as one. Real clubs are free because they’re about people, not profit.
Can I start a social club even if I’m shy?
Yes. In fact, many clubs were started by people who were too shy to speak up at first. The beauty of these groups is that they don’t require you to be outgoing. You can sit quietly, listen, and still belong. The only requirement is showing up. No speeches. No introductions. Just presence.
Why don’t I hear about these clubs more often?
Because they’re not loud. They don’t run ads. They don’t have influencers. They grow slowly, through word of mouth, flyers, and quiet recommendations. You won’t see them trending on TikTok. But you’ll find them on the bulletin board at the library, the notice on the café window, or the hand-written sign outside the community hall.
Are social clubs the same as support groups?
Not always. Support groups focus on a specific issue-grief, addiction, illness. Social clubs are about connection, not healing. That said, many clubs become informal support networks over time. Someone might show up for the knitting circle and stay because they found someone who listens. The line between the two can blur, but the intention is different.
Final thought: You don’t need to be fixed. You just need to show up.
Social clubs aren’t a cure for loneliness. They’re not a quick fix. But they’re the closest thing we have to a gentle, steady antidote.
You don’t need to be popular. You don’t need to be interesting. You just need to be there.
And in a world that’s never stopped asking for your attention, that might be the most powerful thing you can do.
