Neighbourhood theory: Why good neighbours equal space plus distance over time

Coming from a country that famously insists that everybody needs good neighbours, I must admit I’ve felt substantially short-changed for most of my life. Now that I have, at last, found myself surrounded by almost disturbingly friendly neighbours, I think I’ve realised why – I was just living too close to other people.

My newly established theory, sure to be studied by psychologists and scholars for years to come, is that the number of metres you are from your nearest neighbour will determine how well you get to know them (I’m working on the algorithm – something about distance over time = sociability). Essentially, if you’ve got a common wall between you, that’s about all you’ll ever have in common.

The reasons for this make perfect sense, now that I’ve sat down and had a good look at my living history. When I resided in tiny flats and only slightly larger apartments, I could often hear my neighbours through the walls – their shouting matches, their snoring and sometimes the other sleep-shattering things they did in their bedrooms.

In one case I could even hear what they were watching on TV, and the choices they made were so awful (they particularly enjoyed a reality show with some shouty American who sounded strangely presidential) I knew friendship was off the table. 

For these, and other reasons, I would be careful not to make eye contact in the building’s common areas, although I’m still not sure exactly why they were avoiding my eyes just as fastidiously. To support my argument, probably.

Now, I grew up in Canberra, which was, at the time, so spread out and empty that you had to walk some distance just to see your neighbour’s fence. Some people have said to me that they find Canberrans unfriendly, but I don’t think that’s right, they’re just unhappy, and sick of people asking things like “So, is this IT?” And, “Can you please direct me to the city centre, I can’t find it?”

In my youth, neighbours in the ACT were hugely friendly and always greeted you as if they’d not seen anyone outside of their immediate family for weeks.

From there, I moved to London, where my meagre means meant living, at one stage, in a converted cupboard in a below-ground flat with stunning views of people’s grimy shoes going past.

I didn’t even make friends with my housemates, let alone the neighbours. Indeed, I don’t think I ever saw them, largely because it was too cold to go outside.

After that I lived in some apartments in the Sydney CBD – very thin walls, never met anybody – before finally moving into the tightly terraced suburbs of the inner west. I did notice here that people were slightly friendlier than when I’d lived in tower blocks, and yet strangely, the further their front door was from mine, the more likely they were to want a chat.

In those inner-city villages it can also be a dangerous time-suck, knowing too many people. Essentially, because you rarely drive anywhere, you’re always seeing your neighbours on the walk to the shops, which, if you know them too well, could take hours. 

Today, finally banished to the ‘burbs, I live far enough from my neighbours that I can play loud, awful 1980s rock, and bellow badly along with it, and no one complains. This is only partly because they’re all so absurdly nice.

My new neighbours hold street parties, lots of them, they get together in one guy’s giant back yard for every Origin game. They have a putting contest on someone else’s front lawn at Christmas time. They turn up at your door and give you wine, for free, when you move in, and they have a WhatsApp group in which no one gets angry about the lack of parking spaces, they just organise wine and cheese and snooker nights.

When I tell the few people I made friends with in my old ‘hood about all this they warn me that it sounds like I’m in some kind of reality show, and to look out for hidden cameras.

But I know the truth, and the fact is, people who aren’t forced to live too close together are just far happier to get to know, and even befriend, their just-right-distanced neighbours. 

And everybody needs good neighbours.