The internet’s front porch

We’re reimagining community online, together.

In our always-on, real-time, infinite scroll world, Uncommon stands apart—a calm place for meaning and wonder far from the noise.

We’re a diverse community of travelers and advocates, students and writers, teachers and artists, engineers and musicians, poets and makers. We aren’t brands or superstars. We’re people, all of whom come as equals. Everyone’s voice is heard on the front porch.

Relationships are life’s great gift, but too often they’re reduced to fodder for ads. Our time and attention are invaluable and irreplaceable, yet many services define success as when we wonder where the last few hours went.

A visit to Uncommon is inspiring, thought-provoking, and deliberately brief. The site closes for 24 hours each week to remind us to find inspiration beyond our screens.

We share a fierce belief in the inherent value of each person and each moment. Wherever we gather, in person or online, in coffee shops or lingering on a porch, that’s what we talk about and celebrate.

You’re welcome here

Our story began 9 years, 4 months, and 1 day ago. The only thing missing is you. Come alongside us and help shape the next small thing on the internet.

I was reading a book recently—okay a history of Dungeons & Dragons if you must know—and a big part of the story is these early wargaming zines that got mailed around in the 60s and 70s. Reading about them made me sort of wistful. They had all these characteristics that have somehow gotten lost in the modern web… voice, continuity, a sense of membership, and (frankly) a bit of productive weirdness. I think you’re conjuring them w/ Uncommon in Common, and that’s a very good thing indeed.

Robin SloanRobin Sloan

A sigh of relief, a breath of fresh air… however I try to describe Uncommon, it comes out as a relaxed (and relaxing) exhale. In a sea of attention-grabbing apps and devices, this is a gentle invitation, a circle of curious souls, and an opportunity to connect with yourself.

Lauren BaconLauren Bacon

Uncommon is the best community on the internet right now. I can’t quite put my finger on why, and that’s good. It’s like a public service announcement for connected humanity. They’re on to something wonderfully indescribable.

Jon BellJon Bell

Uncommon is where I go as a refuge from the loud internet. It’s like stepping off a busy street and into a charming library, where you can talk if you want to, or listen if you prefer. You’re welcomed with smiles from thoughtful, feeling people. And their words are gentle sparks of light, guiding you on your way when it’s time to go.

Radhika SabaRadhika Saba

Thoughtfulness. Intimacy. Neighborliness. They’re qualities that have pervaded Uncommon since the very beginning. They’re qualities that facilitate friendship, empathy, serendipity. And they’re qualities that I hope will remain in our arms, as we build the world’s slowest social network the only way it can be built: a step at a time, together.

Jack ChengJack Cheng

Uncommon starts a conversation. Even when I’m struggling with the worst case of writers’ block, Uncommon prompts offer space to reflect and share. They are as nourishing as the best catch up conversation with a dear friend, the kind where you pick up right where you left off.

Sara WatsonSara Watson

Uncommon hints at a life where we have a greater say in how we spend our cognitive resources. And as I work to have a greater voice in how my own scarce, precious resources are used, thanks to Uncommon I know that I won’t be alone on this journey.

Kathy SierraKathy Sierra

Uncommon’s knack for perspective and gentle collective introspection, delicate curation and inherent patience has been an absolute delight, and a timely reminder of my need to slow down in many areas of my life.

Lara McPhersonLara McPherson

Within five minutes of joining Uncommon, I had a profile, a smiley lil Jenn photo, and I was answering a question about what dessert makes me smile the most that took me down a passage of thought full with nostalgia, warmth and family. (Answer: my mom’s Christmas cookies, a family tradition). Because Uncommon was the last thing I did that night, instead of having stress dreams about Twitter, I fell asleep in a cozy haze thinking about family and connection and how wonderfully lucky I was to have found a place like Uncommon to share these beautiful things in this lifetime.

Jenn TurnerJenn Turner

In this simple, uncluttered haven I find I can connect and reflect. There is no pressure to perform. No demands on my attention other than the meandering path I wish to track, like my hand pulled through the water as I lean out of a boat on a quiet river one Summer afternoon. The ripples and eddies of stories shared flowing around me as I gently explore. I came here because I wanted something more than the hectic offer of ‘more’ that underpins most social network interaction. I don’t want to broadcast. I don’t want to display. I don’t want to posture. I want the peace of un-demanded attention given freely. I want to explore that which is freely shared without expectation. I want that which is magnificent. I want Uncommon.

Drew MarshallDrew Marshall