When digital connection becomes community

As a researcher of disability, I have spent years emphasising the empowering role of social media and digital technologies.

I have written about access, voice, and visibility — about how platforms can amplify marginalised perspectives and foster inclusion.

Yet there is a quieter affordance that receives far less attention, perhaps because it is more intimate than institutional: The way social media alleviates loneliness by creating spaces of shared experience for those who might otherwise remain alone.

I was reminded of this recently while watching a historic speech by King Charles III delivered to the United States Congress. The timing, inconvenient for someone living in Oman, meant that I was watching late at night.

More significantly, I had no one physically present to share the moment with. This was not new. In 2011, I watched the wedding of Prince William and Catherine, Princess of Wales, alone in my room.

It felt like an event that demanded collective witnessing, yet I experienced it in isolation. I later learned that some colleagues had gathered for a viewing party, to which I had not been invited.

At the time, even if I had wanted to host such a gathering, it would not have been possible. My mother controlled the household television, and communal viewing was simply not an option.

What has changed since then is not my solitary physical setting but the nature of presence itself.

As I watched King Charles’s speech, I was simultaneously part of a dispersed but connected audience. Through livestreams hosted by royal commentators on YouTube, I joined a community that had assembled before the event, remained active during it, and continued afterward with analysis and discussion.

Viewers commented in real time, exchanged interpretations, and reacted collectively. The experience resembled being at a gathering — one where conversation flowed, where anticipation was shared, and where the event extended beyond its formal duration into communal reflection.

This sense of belonging is not limited to royal events. A few weeks earlier, I watched the Artemis II coverage through Nasa's Live YouTube Channel.

My nieces, who share my interest, followed the event from their own home. We exchanged messages through WhatsApp, creating a small, private layer of interaction. At the same time, I was engaged with a broader audience online, reacting to the same moments with people I did not know personally but with whom I shared an enthusiasm that felt immediate and genuine.

There is a qualitative difference between simply consuming media and participating in a digitally mediated gathering. The latter produces a sense of co-presence that challenges traditional understandings of solitude.

For individuals who are geographically isolated, socially marginalised, or simply surrounded by people who do not share their interests, these platforms offer a way to 'find one’s tribe.'

This is not merely about distraction or entertainment. It is about recognition — the feeling that one’s passions, however niche, are valid and shared.

For those of us who have experienced constrained social environments, whether due to family dynamics, disability, or circumstance, this affordance is profound.

It transforms moments that might otherwise reinforce isolation into opportunities for connection.

Watching an event alone no longer means being alone in the experience. The screen becomes a portal, not just to content, but to community.

As I look ahead to future events, I no longer anticipate solitude in the same way. I may still sit in my own living room, but I will not be alone.

Social media has not replaced physical gatherings, nor should it. But it has created an alternative form of togetherness, one that is particularly meaningful for those who have long been on the margins of collective experience.