Loners Unite

Is There a "Community" for Non-Conformists?

This is the 100th post at The Cornfield! This month marks three years since I launched my Substack. Thank you to my subscribers and supporters!

Groucho Marx famously quipped, “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.” His remark was part of his public letter of resignation from the Friar’s Club, a show business organization he’d been pressured to join, but had never participated with. While one might interpret this immortal line as self-deprecation, one might also view it as a way of using humor to lubricate his exit from the club whilst avoiding giving offense to its venerated members. Groucho simply wasn’t a joiner.

Groucho Marx

I’ve never been a joiner. I was bullied and ostracized from a very early age. I was always the last one picked for any team. I was a small, sensitive, isolated child. Obviously, I never sought to distinguish myself in athletics, but instead devoted myself to my first love—theatre and singing—and to being a straight-A student. What I was denied in terms of popularity I made up in personal accomplishment. I admit this sent me into adulthood with a massive chip on my shoulder, and a pursuit of perfectionism that resulted in a great deal of frustration. Fortunately, in my dotage, I’ve realized that, of course, perfection is totally unattainable.

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I was lucky to have had a devoted, supportive mother who taught me that being different was a virtue, and uniqueness an advantage. I was a child of the ‘70s—one of those latchkey kids who developed self sufficiency and the ability to do things on his own. I’ve written about the virtues of being Gen X, and I am grateful to have come of age when I did. From early childhood, I spent large amounts of time unsupervised. I came home from school alone, made my own food, solved my own problems. Instead of being constantly monitored or guided, I had to think for myself. I actively sought to develop a moral conscience. I questioned everything, challenging arbitrary assumptions and rigid norms—but learned fast that my opinions had better be defendable. Authority was no longer automatically legitimate; it had to be evaluated. Trust became conditional rather than assumed.

We Gen X’ers grew up in a media environment that increasingly challenged traditional narratives. The rise of cable television, independent film, and alternative music exposed us to perspectives that questioned mainstream assumptions. We were ironic, skeptical, and resistant to overt moralizing. Cultural expressions—from punk to grunge—frequently emphasized authenticity, alienation, and distrust of artificial or imposed identities. This ambiguity forced us to develop our own interpretive frameworks.

We were the last generation to grow up entirely before the rise of social media. Our formative years occurred without continuous digital surveillance, public performance, or algorithmic reinforcement. We could experiment with ideas, identities, and beliefs without permanent public record or instant collective judgment. We had more space to develop internal conviction rather than externally reinforced identity. This fostered adaptability rather than ideological rigidity. We learned early that systems change, narratives shift, and certainty is often temporary. It’s no mystery to me why I have such skepticism toward movements that demand total ideological conformity, regardless of political orientation.

“A society with too few independent thinkers is vulnerable to control by disturbed and opportunistic leaders. A society which wants to create and maintain a free and democratic social system must create responsible independence of thought among its young.” ~ John Dewey

Independent thinking has been central to my entire life. It has its advantages and disadvantages. Plus side? I’m resistant to manipulation. I’m able—and eager—to question dominant narratives. I value my intellectual autonomy. Downsides? My reluctance to embrace collective identity and shared narratives is isolating. Sometimes this detachment can lead me into cynicism. Independence can protect individuals from conformity, but it can also (at the risk of using a now hackneyed term) marginalize us.

So is there some kind of “community” for independent thinkers and non-conformists? Is such a thing possible, or even desirable? Can an alliance be forged between people whose very nature rejects joining?

“I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself.” ~ Rita Mae Brown

Conformity is not inherently negative. Societies require shared rules and values to function. Common beliefs enable cooperation, trust, and collective action. Without some degree of agreement, social fragmentation and instability can occur—and does, all the time, in our times.

Political movements, cultural communities, and advocacy groups depend on solidarity to pursue their goals effectively. However, this same solidarity can evolve into orthodoxy—a set of beliefs that must not be questioned. When belonging becomes conditional upon agreement, conformity shifts from voluntary cohesion to enforced uniformity. At this point, disagreement may be interpreted not as a legitimate difference of opinion, but as betrayal.

The political philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in On Liberty that the suppression of dissent harms society as a whole. He maintained that even unpopular or offensive ideas serve a vital function: they challenge complacency, refine truth, and prevent intellectual stagnation. When individuals conform outwardly while privately disagreeing, society loses access to genuine debate and intellectual progress.

“Conformity is not an admirable trait. Conformity is a copout. It threatens self-awareness. It can lead groups to enforce rigid and arbitrary rules. ~Alexandra Robbins

In modern political culture, conformity is often reinforced through polarization. Individuals are expected to align fully with one political camp or another, adopting a bundle of positions that may not reflect their actual beliefs. Nuance becomes difficult because political identity itself becomes a form of social identity. To disagree on one issue may risk exclusion from the entire group.

Cultural communities, including those formed around shared experiences of marginalization—such as the LGBTQ+ community—serve essential and often life-saving functions. They provide support, protection, identity, and collective advocacy. For individuals who have experienced exclusion, these communities can offer belonging and validation that may not exist elsewhere.

Yet even within such communities, pressures toward ideological conformity can emerge. Any community that forms around shared identity or shared struggle will naturally develop narratives, priorities, and expectations about how members should think and behave. I’ve certainly experienced friction from “the community” when my personal beliefs differ from prevailing norms on a range of issues. Critical views can be all too easily interpreted as dissent. And so we have a paradox: communities formed to protect individual dignity can sometimes unintentionally constrain individual intellectual autonomy. As an independent thinker I don’t reject community. I just refuse to surrender my conscience to it.

“I believe one of the greatest human failings is to prefer to be right than to be effective. Political correctness is always obsessed with how right it is without thinking how effective it might be. I do relish transgression and I deeply and instinctively distrust conformity and orthodoxy.” ~ Stephen Fry

Independent thinking requires more than intellectual ability—it requires courage. Humans are deeply social beings, and the fear of exclusion is one of the most powerful psychological forces. To hold and express unpopular opinions risks not only disagreement but social alienation.

Independent thinkers, even when uncomfortable or unpopular, play a crucial role in preventing societies from becoming intellectually stagnant. A culture that truly values justice and truth must tolerate—even encourage—good-faith disagreement. The independent thinker stands at the intersection of belonging and autonomy. Their role is not to oppose community, but to ensure that community remains compatible with truth, conscience, and intellectual freedom. In the end, a free society depends not on unanimous agreement, but on the willingness to tolerate thoughtful disagreement. Conformity may preserve unity, but independent thought preserves truth.