Modern social thought has long emphasized that communities are not natural givens, but constructed realities. Among the most influential accounts is that of Benedict Richard O'Gorman Anderson, who described nations as “imagined communities”—formed not through direct personal ties, but through shared narratives, symbols, and mediated forms of belonging.

This insight remains powerful. It explains how large-scale societies cohere without requiring face-to-face interaction, and how individuals come to experience themselves as part of a collective they will never fully encounter.

But it may not go far enough.

To say that a community is imagined is to explain how it is conceived. It does not yet explain how it persists.

An imagined structure, on its own, is inert. It can be held, shared, transmitted—but without further processes, it does not act, and it does not endure as a lived reality.

The crucial step lies elsewhere.

Communities do not exist because they are imagined.
They exist because they are enacted.

This requires another shift in perspective. Instead of asking what people believe about a community, we ask: what do people repeatedly do that brings it into being?

Consider the ordinary, often unnoticed actions that structure collective life.

A document is presented and accepted.
A boundary is observed.
A regulation is followed.
A procedure is completed.

None of these acts, taken individually, appears to constitute a community. Yet each of them participates in a larger pattern: they reproduce the conditions under which the collective becomes real.

At no point does the community exist as a continuous, self-sustaining entity. It appears only through these actions, and only for as long as they are carried out.

Between them, there is no active community—only the possibility of one.

This perspective helps explain a persistent tension. Societies can remain stable even when belief weakens. Individuals may question narratives, reject identities, or disengage from symbolic forms of belonging. Yet if the underlying actions continue—if roles are performed, if procedures are followed, if interactions proceed within established frameworks—the collective does not dissolve.

It continues to be enacted.

This suggests that belief, while significant, is not foundational. It can support, reinforce, or destabilize a system. But it is not what ultimately sustains it.

What sustains it is repetition.

A community, then, is not a thing that exists and is then maintained. It is a process that must be continuously performed. Its apparent solidity is the effect of density: a sufficiently uninterrupted sequence of actions that creates the impression of permanence.

Seen in this way, the distinction between imagination and reality begins to blur. What is imagined provides a schema, a shared orientation. But what is done produces the actual.

The community is not located in either alone.

It emerges only when they converge in action.

This also reveals a deeper fragility. If the actions that reproduce a community were to cease—not symbolically, but practically—the structure would not gradually erode. It would simply fail to appear.

Not because it has been destroyed, but because it has not been enacted.

The persistence of any collective, then, depends less on what its members think, and more on what they continue to do.

And this doing, however routine, however unremarkable, is the only place where the community ever truly exists.

We often hear that countries or societies exist because people believe in them.

That’s partly true—but it’s not the full story.

Think about what actually happens every day:

• People follow rules

• People recognize documents

• People move within boundaries

• People complete procedures

Individually, these actions seem small.

But together, they do something important:

👉 they keep the system running

Now imagine the opposite.

What if people stopped doing these things?

Not protesting. Not arguing. Just… not acting within the system.

No procedures. No compliance. No participation.

What would happen?

👉 The system wouldn’t “lose legitimacy” first
👉 It would simply stop functioning

Because nothing is being enacted anymore.

So the key shift is this:

• Belief helps

• Narratives matter

But neither is enough on its own.

What actually makes a society “real” is this:

👉 people keep acting as if it is

And in doing so—

they bring it into existence, again and again.

You can think of it like a shared game:

• The rules exist

• The idea of the game exists

But the game only becomes real when people play.

Society works the same way.

It doesn’t sit there as a solid object.

It is continuously produced by what people do.

So the uncomfortable version is:

A society exists only as long as it is being enacted.

And every ordinary action—

no matter how small—

is part of that process.

A community exists only when it is enacted.

To the extent possible under law, this work has been waived of copyright and dedicated to the public domain. For details, see the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.

Modern social thought has long emphasized that communities are not natural givens, but constructed realities. Among the most influential accounts is that of Benedict Richard O'Gorman Anderson, who described nations as “imagined communities”—formed not through direct personal ties, but through shared narratives, symbols, and mediated forms of belonging.

This insight remains powerful. It explains how large-scale societies cohere without requiring face-to-face interaction, and how individuals come to experience themselves as part of a collective they will never fully encounter.

But it may not go far enough.

To say that a community is imagined is to explain how it is conceived. It does not yet explain how it persists.

An imagined structure, on its own, is inert. It can be held, shared, transmitted—but without further processes, it does not act, and it does not endure as a lived reality.

The crucial step lies elsewhere.

Communities do not exist because they are imagined.
They exist because they are enacted.

This requires another shift in perspective. Instead of asking what people believe about a community, we ask: what do people repeatedly do that brings it into being?

Consider the ordinary, often unnoticed actions that structure collective life.

A document is presented and accepted.
A boundary is observed.
A regulation is followed.
A procedure is completed.

None of these acts, taken individually, appears to constitute a community. Yet each of them participates in a larger pattern: they reproduce the conditions under which the collective becomes real.

At no point does the community exist as a continuous, self-sustaining entity. It appears only through these actions, and only for as long as they are carried out.

Between them, there is no active community—only the possibility of one.

This perspective helps explain a persistent tension. Societies can remain stable even when belief weakens. Individuals may question narratives, reject identities, or disengage from symbolic forms of belonging. Yet if the underlying actions continue—if roles are performed, if procedures are followed, if interactions proceed within established frameworks—the collective does not dissolve.

It continues to be enacted.

This suggests that belief, while significant, is not foundational. It can support, reinforce, or destabilize a system. But it is not what ultimately sustains it.

What sustains it is repetition.

A community, then, is not a thing that exists and is then maintained. It is a process that must be continuously performed. Its apparent solidity is the effect of density: a sufficiently uninterrupted sequence of actions that creates the impression of permanence.

Seen in this way, the distinction between imagination and reality begins to blur. What is imagined provides a schema, a shared orientation. But what is done produces the actual.

The community is not located in either alone.

It emerges only when they converge in action.

This also reveals a deeper fragility. If the actions that reproduce a community were to cease—not symbolically, but practically—the structure would not gradually erode. It would simply fail to appear.

Not because it has been destroyed, but because it has not been enacted.

The persistence of any collective, then, depends less on what its members think, and more on what they continue to do.

And this doing, however routine, however unremarkable, is the only place where the community ever truly exists.

We often hear that countries or societies exist because people believe in them.

That’s partly true—but it’s not the full story.

Think about what actually happens every day:

• People follow rules

• People recognize documents

• People move within boundaries

• People complete procedures

Individually, these actions seem small.

But together, they do something important:

👉 they keep the system running

Now imagine the opposite.

What if people stopped doing these things?

Not protesting. Not arguing. Just… not acting within the system.

No procedures. No compliance. No participation.

What would happen?

👉 The system wouldn’t “lose legitimacy” first
👉 It would simply stop functioning

Because nothing is being enacted anymore.

So the key shift is this:

• Belief helps

• Narratives matter

But neither is enough on its own.

What actually makes a society “real” is this:

👉 people keep acting as if it is

And in doing so—

they bring it into existence, again and again.

You can think of it like a shared game:

• The rules exist

• The idea of the game exists

But the game only becomes real when people play.

Society works the same way.

It doesn’t sit there as a solid object.

It is continuously produced by what people do.

So the uncomfortable version is:

A society exists only as long as it is being enacted.

And every ordinary action—

no matter how small—

is part of that process.

A community exists only when it is enacted.

To the extent possible under law, this work has been waived of copyright and dedicated to the public domain. For details, see the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.