The Cult of Camp Social: A Glimpse into a New Kind of Community Building

The rise of adult summer camps like Camp Social has sparked both fascination and skepticism. On one hand, it’s heartening to see women – and men – seeking out opportunities to reconnect with their childhood selves, make new friends, and find community in an increasingly isolating society. On the other hand, paying hundreds (or thousands) of dollars to “find your tribe” raises questions about the commodification of social relationships.

Camp Social, founded by Liv Schreiber, is one of the most successful iterations of this trend. With a waitlist north of 60,000 people, it’s clear that there’s demand for a space where adults can bond over shared experiences and activities. But what does this phenomenon say about our society? Are we so disconnected from each other that we need to pay for the privilege of making friends?

The demographics of Camp Social reveal a telling pattern: the majority of attendees are women in their 50s and 60s, who have largely given up on traditional social networks after raising families or entering the workforce. For these women, forming new connections can be daunting, and Camp Social promises to take care of all the hard work.

Schreiber’s approach emphasizes recreation over personal growth. Gone are the days of trust-building exercises and group therapy sessions; instead, campers participate in activities like archery, rock climbing, and choreographed dance routines to Cher and Shania Twain songs. The “friend-making” focus is more akin to a well-designed social experiment than any genuine attempt to foster meaningful connections.

But what about the women who are most in need of this kind of support – those with anxiety, depression, or other mental health conditions? Are they being catered for by Camp Social’s carefully curated activities and welcoming counselors, or are they simply being tokenized as part of the camp’s “diverse” experience?

Schreiber’s background is instructive. A successful real estate agent turned matchmaker, she launched her business on the back of a perceived gap in the market: women (and men) struggling to make friends as adults. What does it say about our society that we’re willing to pay top dollar for the privilege of having someone else orchestrate our social lives?

As I spent time with the women of Cabin 3, I couldn’t help but wonder if Camp Social is more than just a fad – or even a solution – to our societal problems. Is it a symptom of something deeper? A culture that values convenience and efficiency over genuine human connection? Or simply a reflection of our own anxieties about aging, loneliness, and the search for meaning in an increasingly isolating world?

As I watched the women of Cabin 3 dancing together at the flagpole, laughing and shouting out “Camp Social,” I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’re witnessing something more profound than just a new kind of summer camp. We’re seeing the culmination of a decades-long trend towards greater isolation and disconnection – and the desperate attempts to fill the void with carefully crafted experiences and pseudo-communities.

The long-term effects of this trend are impossible to predict, but one thing is certain: Camp Social – and its ilk – will only continue to thrive as long as we’re willing to pay for the privilege of having someone else do the hard work of making friends.