Town hall meetings have been an integral part of the United States’ democratic process since before the U.S. was an independent nation. The first recorded “town meeting” was in Dorchester, Massachusetts in 1633, nearly one and a half centuries before the signing of The Declaration of Independence.

What is the importance of a town hall meeting? At its heart, a town hall meeting is a public forum where anyone can speak, has access to politicians who make crucial decisions, and may even be able to cast a vote in favor of, or against, propositions that might directly affect the community. In a world where it is common for only a select few to have access to decisionmakers, the opportunity to directly engage in democracy is both rare and valuable. 

^{A memorial stone for the First Meeting House in Dorchester, Massachusetts. Photo from the Salem Witch Museum.}

Perhaps just as importantly, these community assemblies are, at their best, instruments of accountability. This may mean accountability of politicians and leaders to citizens, or even citizens to one another. But at the end of the day, while participants can say their piece, they are immediately held responsible for their words and actions by their peers—whether that is the accuracy of the information they profess, or the effects of decisions they support. 

  ^{Seattle City Councilmember Eddie Lin speaks to a full house at an April 22 Public Safety Town Hall in North Beacon Hill. From South Seattle Emerald Photo by Chris Rojas.}

But what happens when we take the real-life interactions (and consequences) away by moving a town hall into the digital space? Eureka Day, playwright Jonathan Spector’s 2018 satiric comedy, shows us how the purported “democracy” of the internet and social media can actually have the opposite effect. 

In Eureka Day, the community of a small, self-proclaimed “progressive” private school is hit with a mumps outbreak. The leaders of the Eureka Day School in Berkeley, California pride themselves on a truly democratic approach to decision-making, and when catastrophe strikes their community, they attempt to use their typical process—a “Community Activated Conversation.” 

^{Actors Quinn Mattfeld, Jonathan Slavin, and Sara Hennessy in rehearsals for Eureka Day (2026) at Seattle Rep. Photo by Sayed Alamy.}

The leadership committee soon finds out that, what might work for decisions about school fundraiser locations or end-of-school-year play titles, doesn’t necessarily translate to a health crisis. And when their conversations move to a virtual town hall for community input and feedback is shared from behind the safety of a screen, we as an audience are confronted with the question: How can a conversation that works in person sometimes feel so disconnected when it moves online?

Recent research shows us that a phenomenon called “online disinhibition” causes behavior known as “virtual toxicity,” where people feel free to behave in ways they would not normally in an IRL (“In Real Life”) setting, according to the CalTech D.A.D. (Disembodiment, lack of Accountability, and Disinhibition) Framework by CalTech Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience Dean Mobbs:

“When I’m speaking to somebody online,” Mobbs explains, “the conversation I’m having is all in my head…Your internal world is your playground not just for ideas, or for what you want to say, but sometimes for things you shouldn’t say. And when you are communicating in this disembodied state…you begin to forget that you’re having a conversation with a real person.” (CalTech.edu, 2024)

^{A figure showing Embodied vs Disembodied Communication. From Hobbs, et. al article "Three roots of online toxicity: disembodiment, accountability, and disinhibition" in Trends In Cognitive Sciences Volume 28, Issue 9, p.814-828. September 2024.}

Is there a guarantee that, had the leadership of Eureka Day School hosted an in-person rather than virtual town hall, the outcome would have been more productive? Not at all, but in our current reality, where we have moved significant public and private human interactions to the digital world (dating apps vs. meeting in-person; social media vs. IRL conversations with friends and family; virtual meetings vs. work gatherings; research with human librarians or educators vs. asking an AI agent, etc.), it’s time to reevaluate what some of these practices have cost us as a society and keep the positive changes (accessibility options, ability to stay in touch long-distance), while we do away with what doesn’t serve us. 

Eureka Day is a piece of art that shows us a fictional microcosm of one small community, in one town. The question now is whether we are ready to recognize connections between the story on stage and our current real-world crises, and—more importantly—what are we willing to do about it? 

^{Sara Hennessy and Nemuna Ceesay in rehearsals for Eureka Day (2026) at Seattle Rep. Photo by Sayed Alamy.}

Catch all the chaos in the chat when you see Eureka Day. Playing September 24– November 15 in the Leo K. Theater at Seattle Rep.

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