Retirement communities in ageing societies

Retirement communities have existed in Britain since Roman times, when they were built to accommodate military officers who had retired from active duty with distinguished service records (Karn Reference Karn1977). Across Europe too, retirement schemes with religious affiliations have been a long-standing feature of provision for older people since medieval times. However, the major growth in such developments occurred initially during the 20th century when the concept spread from Europe to North America (Burgess Reference Burgess1961). Evans (Reference Evans2009a) cites work by Webster (Reference Webster2002) which shows that purpose-built retirement communities now account for approximately 11 per cent of all new housing in the USA. It is estimated that about 12 per cent of the older population live in these developments (Webster Reference Webster2002) and there are now over 2,000 retirement villages with some, like ‘Sun City’ in Arizona and ‘The Villages’ in Florida, housing tens of thousands of people.

Comparable figures for the UK are hard to come by, not least because there are no nationally collated statistics specifically related to this trend. However, the Elderly Accommodation Counsel (EAC; www.eac.org.uk) manages a ‘Housing Options’ database of UK sheltered and retirement housing for older people which, at the time of writing, includes information on 25,700 schemes for rent or purchase (http://www.eac.org.uk/shop/county-guides-sheltered-retirement-housing.aspx). In addition, their current online ‘Directory of retirement villages and communities in the UK’ (EAC 2009), lists 77 schemes described by their developers and managers as ‘retirement villages’ (Evans Reference Evans2009a). However, as in other countries (Jones et al. Reference Jones, Howe, Tilse, Bartlett and Stimson2009), there is still no universally agreed definition in the UK of what constitutes a retirement village.

‘Retirement’, ‘village’ and ‘community’ are all contested and debated terms. ‘Retirement’ sits uneasily with the ethos that many of the developers of these villages are trying to promote. Far from encouraging people to retire they are marketed, particularly in the United States of America, as environments in which people are encouraged to participate, and to become or stay active (Katz and McHugh Reference Katz, McHugh, Cole, Ray and Kastenbaum2010; McHugh Reference McHugh2000). The publicity material for DGV is a case in point, describing it as a community offering ‘exciting leisure activities’ with ‘as much or as little social activity as you want’ (DGV 2009). Moreover, previous research suggests that using the word ‘retirement’ in the phrases ‘retirement village’ or ‘retirement community’, may mean that residents and their families have expectations that people will be looked after in ways akin to being in a residential or nursing home, rather than living in an environment designed to encourage and support them to lead independent lives (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004). We also know from early studies of these environments in North America that retirement – in the sense of formal retirement from paid work – may not in fact be the prime motivation for moving to a retirement village (Marans, Hunt and Vakalo Reference Marans, Hunt, Vakalo, Altman, Lawton and Wohlwill1984). In fact, the word ‘retirement’ has been dropped in some of the newer developments in the UK.

If ‘retirement’ is a difficult term in this context, then the words ‘community’ and ‘village’ are no less fraught with problems. Geographers will be familiar with attempts to articulate different morphological categories of villages based on increasingly complex measures of density, land use, context and settlement type (Bibby and Shepherd Reference Bibby and Shepherd2004). However, a quick glance at aerial images of existing retirement villages reveals that hardly any of them fit either the more traditional or contemporary definitions or perceptions of what a ‘village’ is (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004; Croucher, Pleace and Bevan Reference Croucher, Pleace and Bevan2003; Croucher et al. Reference Croucher, Hicks, Bevan and Sanderson2007; Evans and Means Reference Evans and Means2007). Morphologically and locationally, existing retirement villages are all very different from one another; they vary from rural to suburban to urban settings, and some are in fact just a single building (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004). Moreover, the word ‘village’ is also a socially constructed term: one used informally by residents themselves to invoke idealised notions of village life (Evans Reference Evans2009a, 2009 b) but also as a marketing device by developers in their efforts to attract buyers to these age-segregated settings (Simpson Reference Simpson2007).

The word ‘community’ also presents difficulties not least because it is often used interchangeably with ‘village’. However, the term ‘retirement community’ is also used to encompass a broader range of housing options, including privately owned apartments, extra-care housing, nursing care homes, specialist dementia care units and continuing care retirement communities. Moreover, retirement villages like DGV are often marketed as communities of like-minded people, and concepts such as ‘community cohesion’, ‘community engagement’ and ‘sustainable communities’ were central to many of the policy initiatives espoused by the previous Labour administration in the UK (www.communities.gov.uk/communities). Even with a change of government, it still appears that community ‘is firmly back at the top of the agenda’ (Evans Reference Evans2009a: 7).

Understandings of ‘community’

If we are to focus on retirement villages as particular types of community, it is helpful to try to delineate the various dimensions of community with which we might be concerned. From a theoretical perspective, and for the sake of clarity, we frame our discussions around the three key dimensions of community identified in a recent review of the literature by Evans (Reference Evans2009a) : ‘community of place’, ‘community of interest’ and ‘community identity’. ‘Place’, in the sense of locality, has long been key to understanding people's relationships with where they live and with each other (Easthope Reference Easthope2004; Tuan Reference Tuan1977, Reference Tuan2001) and older people in particular are very likely to have spent considerable periods of their lives in one place; one neighbourhood, one home (Peace, Holland and Kellaher Reference Peace, Holland and Kellaher2006; Peace et al. Reference Peace, Wahl, Mollenkopf, Oswald, Bond, Peace, Dittman-Kohli and Westerhof2007; Rowles Reference Rowles1978; Smith Reference Smith2009). Often, therefore, their lives are bounded by the physical environment and lived out within a given set of places and spaces (Burholt Reference Burholt2006).

Traditionally, it was also assumed that those who live in the same geographical area somehow develop a shared identity and, to a lesser extent, shared interests (Evans Reference Evans2009a). However, alternative, but not necessarily mutually exclusive perspectives, suggest that place is less important to a sense of belonging and identity formation than people's individual biographies and what has been termed ‘elective belonging’ (Savage Reference Savage2008; Savage, Bagnall and Longhurst Reference Savage, Bagnall and Longhurst2005). Yet, it is far from clear how a retirement village, as a geographical entity, operates in these respects. Although there has been important research in North American retirement communities exploring the interplay between the physical context and the experience of ageing (Laws Reference Laws1995, Reference Laws, Jamieson, Harper and Victor1997; Osgood Reference Osgood1982; Streib Reference Streib2002), there is little comparative work to date in a UK context. We do not know, for example, the extent to which an environment like DGV constrains or facilitates the social worlds and social relationships of long-time residents. Nor do we know how identities and interests might have evolved over time, or what incomers think and feel about this new place in which they find themselves in later life. Moreover, major social changes such as globalisation, coupled with technological advancements, mean that it is also now possible to reside in one place and yet be embedded in a complex web of social relationships and social interests outwith that community (Eade Reference Eade1997; Massey Reference Massey2005).

The second key dimension of community is therefore that of ‘interest’. ‘Communities of interest’ have traditionally overlapped with ‘communities of place’, as was the case with the first religiously affiliated European retirement schemes. Communities of interest may also be based on shared heritage and include ‘occupational communities’ developed around particular workplaces or jobs. Crow and Allan (Reference Crow and Allan1994) emphasise the tight bonds, shared leisure interests and shared meanings that studies of mining communities have highlighted and it is quite possible that, as licensed victuallers, the original residents of DGV will exhibit similar understandings of community.

The third key dimension of community is that of ‘identity’. It has been observed that where people identify with – or are attached to – a given place, or indeed a given culture, a shared sense of identity can evolve. Feelings of belonging and attachment are, in turn, often expressed through collective action or community spirit (Crow and Allan Reference Crow and Allan1994). As Sarason (Reference Sarason1974: 157) asserted, this psychological sense of community ‘is one of the major bases for self-definition’, whilst more recent literature on identity and place also provides evidence of a strong link between an older person's environment and his or her sense of self (Andrews and Phillips Reference Andrews and Phillips2005; Peace, Holland and Kellaher Reference Peace, Holland, Kellaher, Rowles and Chaudhury2005, Reference Peace, Holland and Kellaher2006; Rowles and Watkins Reference Rowles, Watkins, Schaie, Wahl, Mollenkopf and Oswald2003; Scharf, Phillipson and Smith Reference Scharf, Phillipson, Smith, Wahl, Tesch-Romer and Hoff2007; Smith Reference Smith2009).

One of the defining characteristics of this dimension of community is the nature of interactions between people which lead, in McMillan and Chavis's (Reference McMillan and Chavis1986: 9) words, to a shared ‘sense of community’. As communities begin to form, and retirement communities are probably no exception, people look for similarity in others, because ‘if one can find people with similar ways of looking, feeling, thinking and being, then it is assumed that one has found a place where one can safely be oneself’ (McMillan Reference McMillan1996: 321). Perceived similarity to others contributes to group interaction and cohesion, as does a shared history. This shared history in turn ‘becomes the community's story’ (McMillan Reference McMillan1996: 322) whose values and traditions may well ‘outlive community members and remain a part of the spirit of the community’ (McMillan Reference McMillan1996: 323). McMillan and Chavis (Reference McMillan and Chavis1986) conclude that a well-defined and empirically validated understanding of how community is experienced, as opposed to its other features such as its structure or setting, might in fact help planners and developers of all kinds of programmes and services.

Although ‘sense of community’ has long been examined in North American planned towns and retirement communities (Blakely and Snyder Reference Blakely and Snyder1999; Jacobs Reference Jacobs1983; Osgood Reference Osgood1982; Plas and Lewis Reference Plas and Lewis1996; Ross Reference Ross1977; Streib and Metsch Reference Streib and Metsch2002; Sugihara and Evans Reference Sugihara and Evans2000; van den Hoonaard Reference van den Hoonaard2002), empirical validation in the context of UK purpose-built retirement villages is limited. Between 1999 and 2006, there were only two published papers in the UK reporting primary research and evaluation studies of retirement communities (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004; Croucher, Pleace and Bevan Reference Croucher, Pleace and Bevan2003). However, these studies indicate that such environments may indeed provide residents with a place in which many of them can maintain a relatively stable social identity and where neighbourliness and volunteering are valued ways of expressing commitment to a shared community (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004; Biggs et al. Reference Biggs, Bernard, Kingston and Nettleton2000; Croucher, Pleace and Bevan Reference Croucher, Pleace and Bevan2003).

More recently, Evans (Reference Evans2009a: 129) has linked conceptualisations of ‘community’ and ‘sense of community’ together into a theory of ‘community in place’. He proposes that retirement communities, as physical places and spaces, provide a built environment and a secure setting within which the social interactions that form the basis for a sense of community can be developed and sustained. Thus, the environment has social and psychological, as well as physical, dimensions, within which individuals interact and in which they invest meanings (Peace, Holland and Kellaher Reference Peace, Holland and Kellaher2006; Peace et al. Reference Peace, Wahl, Mollenkopf, Oswald, Bond, Peace, Dittman-Kohli and Westerhof2007). It may be possible then, in the face of a wider society which persists in devaluing and marginalising old age and old people (Nelson Reference Nelson2005), that purpose-built retirement villages could provide a direct challenge to contemporary ageing identities by bolstering people's sense of who they are as they age and helping to create a secure and convincing narrative for identity in later life (Biggs et al. Reference Biggs, Bernard, Kingston and Nettleton2000; Laws Reference Laws1995). It was against this background that our study of DGV sought to explore how people who live and work there experienced it as an evolving community.

The study of Denham Garden Village

DGV was the site for a four-year long mixed-method project with the acronym LARC (Longitudinal study of Ageing in a Retirement Community). LARC began in June 2006 and included biannual surveys of the resident population alongside qualitative methods involving ethnography, diary-keeping by residents, individual and group interviews, annual community conferences, regular waves of directed writing by residents, and photographic/audio-visual work.Footnote ¹ It was framed by a series of research questions that, in addition to reflecting Anchor Trust's concerns about the development of DGV, were designed to illuminate a number of more fundamental issues around what it might be like to age in such purpose-built environments. In this article, we focus on residents' attitudes to living in such a mixed-tenure, purpose-built, age-segregated community and ask:

• • What was DGV like as a community in the early days?

• • How has DGV evolved as a community since the redevelopment began in 2001?

• • How do today's residents perceive and experience the village as a community?

The findings presented and discussed below draw on data from 52 residents and from 16 individuals associated with a variety of organisations involved in the (re)development of DGV. In particular, we draw on diaries and directives written by residents and on two sets of semi-structured interviews. The mixed-method nature of this study meant that residents could choose to take part in one or more elements. For example, one resident might have completed a diary and a number of directives; another may have participated just in an interview. Socio-demographic details of the 52 residents are derived from the village-wide surveys conducted in 2007 and 2009 (see Table 1). As Table 1 shows, 11 residents completed diaries in which they recorded their experiences of life in the village writing, for example, about the sorts of things they did socially and for recreation; the ways in which they did (or did not) join in life at DGV; and the sorts of relationships they had with neighbours and people working in the village. LARC directives are invitations to residents to write on particular topics and were issued twice yearly (see www.massobs.org.uk). In this paper, we draw on 50 responses (from 41 residents, see Table 1) to the first three directives: one on ‘First impressions of Denham Garden Village’ (22 responses); one on ‘Staying active’ (14 responses), and one on ‘Community life at Denham Garden Village’ (14 responses).

Table 1. Socio-demographic profiles of residents

Notes: 1. Information is only available for residents who took part in either survey or who had partners who took part in either survey. 2. Information is only available for residents who took part in either survey. 3. One interview was completed with a couple.

The first set of semi-structured interviews was undertaken with 16 individuals who were involved in helping to formulate a vision for what was being promoted by the developers (Anchor Trust) as a flagship retirement community. Eleven of these interviews were with Anchor/DGV senior personnel (past and present) and five were with individuals from the LVNH organisation and from the architectural practice, estate agents and marketing agencies working on the redevelopment.Footnote ² Their involvement had been at either an operational or strategic level and the interviews explored respondents' differing perspectives on how DGV might continue to evolve as a community. The second set of interviews focused on the experiences of five of the licensed victuallers who had lived at DGV for a considerable time (see Table 1). The interviews considered how the original village impacted on their sense of identity, and how the redevelopment was affecting them both individually and as a community.

Following Ritchie, Spencer and O'Connor's (Reference Ritchie, Spencer, O'Connor, Ritchie and Lewis2003) analytical process, at least two members of the research team (and sometimes three) have independently reviewed the qualitative data and agreed on a series of themes and sub-themes relating to ‘community’ in its broadest sense. Using what Mason (Reference Mason2006: 8) describes as ‘corroborative logic’, where ‘different forms of data and method are used to corroborate what they are measuring’, we draw out a series of themes from the myriad perceptions, views and experiences captured in the data. These themes not only reflect the literature on community reviewed above, but also call attention to the overriding comparisons between ‘then’ and ‘now’ that participants made in the interviews and in their written accounts. The findings are therefore presented around three main themes: DGV as a ‘community of place’: then and now; DGV as a ‘community of interest’: then and now; and DGV and ‘community identity’: then and now. The 16 individuals who participated in the first set of semi-structured interviews are each given a unique identifier (e.g. Key 1, Key 2 etc.) whilst all residents, whether they were interviewees, diary-keepers or respondents to the directives, are given pseudonyms.

DGV as a ‘community of place’: then and now

Located to the north-west of London on the edge of the Chiltern Hills, DGV was built to provide accommodation for retired licensees who were facing economic hardship and/or experiencing ill health. As can be seen from the aerial photographs in Figures 1 and 2, it is bounded on the north by an area of woodland (Nightingale Wood); to the east by the main A412 road; to the south by Denham Green Lane and the village of Denham Green, and to the west (and north-west) by additional woodland and the open space of Denham aerodrome. Less evident from the photographs is the sloping nature of the terrain: dropping in the space of less than half a kilometre from a height of approximately 60 metres at the site's north-western extremity down to 45 metres at the entrance to the village on Denham Green Lane.

Figure 1. Denham Garden Village before redevelopment.

Figure 2. Denham Garden Village after redevelopment.

The aerial photograph of DGV as it was before the redevelopment began in 2001 (Figure 1) shows that it looked much like a suburban estate with very little in the way of physical barriers or landmarks to distinguish it from the surrounding residential streets and housing. On entering the village from Denham Green Lane, there was a large 100-bed nursing home set back from the road: a key landmark and a key facility. Indeed, the presence of the nursing home was one of the primary reasons for many of the original licensed victuallers moving to DGV, as Nettie Gray observed:

The physical layout and the location of buildings like the nursing home were also visual reminders of what people had moved to and what might happen as residents grew older:

In the heart of the old village (just to the east of its geographical centre), was another complex of buildings accommodating the village pub called ‘The Owl’ and the social club, the concert-cum-dance hall, and the village shop and post office (see Figure 1). This was the main hub of community life – and it is this notion of a village centre that has been retained even though the site has been completely redeveloped and remodelled.

As Figure 1 also shows, the hilly nature of the site initially dictated how the roads and bungalows were built. The roads followed the contours with very few dead ends or cul-de-sacs. The 188 one- and two-bedroom (semi-detached) bungalows were ranged in parallel with the roads, had no garages, and were separated from one another by large expanses of shared, communal open space with fences or walls being notable by their absence (Figure 3). Today, mixed-tenure accommodation and a variety of housing stock have replaced the old rented bungalows and the nursing home. DGV now comprises a mix of leasehold and rented accommodation, ranging from one- and two-bedroom apartments through to bungalows (some with up to three bedrooms) and detached two- and three-bedroom houses. All are designed to Lifetime Homes standards (British Standards Institute 2007) and many of the individual properties have well-defined and fenced-in gardens. Even where this is not permitted (as with the rented bungalows), residents have tended to delineate their territory with trellising, sheds and other physical markers (Figure 4).

Figure 3. Original bungalows.

Figure 4. New bungalows.

Despite some initial reservations (especially amongst those licensed victuallers moving from bungalows into apartments), many residents, like Lillian Martin, find the new accommodation of better quality and more spacious:

However, whilst the accommodation may be better, there are still issues for some residents about where exactly they are located, either in a given building or on the site more generally. For example, residents living on the edges of the site told us that they found the sloping terrain, and the distances from their properties to the central facilities such as the village hall and the café bar, a drawback to participating in village life. As Figure 2 shows, the site now looks very different indeed from how it was prior to the redevelopment; accommodation is at a much higher density and, although the main arterial roads remain, a number of the buildings cross rather than follow the contours. Accessibility is key and the new village has covered external walkways, suggested routes, regular shelters and no raised pavements. New central facilities include a shop, café bar, GP surgery, library, village hall, winter garden and a health spa (incorporating a gym, swimming pool and hairdresser). The largest of these central buildings also incorporates apartments and is deliberately designed to be visible from all parts of the village so that: ‘people anywhere on the site can get to this centre, you know, very easily, in terms of level access, and a degree of cover’ (Key 11).

As in the ‘old’ village, particular facilities and buildings are still important in identifying the village as a community, with the café bar having the potential to be a major focal point. To date, however, it has received mixed reviews, although residents like Dora Atkins recognise that: ‘more people using [the] café bar – meeting new friends over a meal or a drink’ would enhance community life. In addition, ‘having the Doctor on our doorstep’ (Rosa Scott) is greatly valued by residents for, as one of the key informants noted: ‘it's one of those key building blocks that brings people in and roots it in the community’ (Key 11).

DGV as a ‘community of interest’: then and now

As noted earlier, ‘communities of interest’ have traditionally overlapped with ‘communities of place’, and may have their origins in a shared heritage. Founded in 1793, The Society of Licensed Victuallers has a long and extensive charitable function, raising money both for members and for other charities (Elkins Reference Elkins1978). In fact, many of the existing licensed victuallers, and certainly a number of those we interviewed, had longstanding connections with DGV even before they moved there. Their shared occupational background also meant that they had been used to fund raising for the upkeep of DGV throughout their working lives and, once at DGV, the pub, club and shop proved to be the hub of community life. The traditional – or as one resident described it – ‘the old time bar’, was a popular venue for those with long-established links with the licensed trade:

The pub not only provided a venue for shared interests but also symbolised the sense of continuity with residents' former working lives. Likewise, the concert-cum-dance hall was the location for regular village-wide entertainment. Other major events, such as the annual garden party at which residents and outsiders alike would mingle and socialise, were also vividly recalled by the licensed victuallers:

Shared leisure interests thus revolved primarily around the pub and the club but, at the same time, were oriented around fund-raising and other activities that bound the residents together as a community.

However, as the present-day village continues to expand, making a reality of what the promotional literature describes as ‘a community of like-minded people’ presents challenges where shared interests and leisure activities are concerned, not least because the occupational backgrounds of residents are becoming ever more diverse. From the late 1980s onwards, small numbers of non-licensed victuallers began to be admitted to DGV, but everyone still rented their properties. Under the redevelopment, Anchor Trust had to accommodate the existing residents and is contractually committed to admitting a fixed number of licensed victuallers each year into rented accommodation should they require places. However, with properties for sale now retailing at between £250,000 and £500,000, a more diverse and more mixed population of both leaseholders and tenants is being attracted to live at DGV.

Notwithstanding this increasing diversity, some of the longstanding licensed victuallers like Lillian Martin are still active in facilitating the more traditional kinds of activities in the new village: ‘Oh yeah, I [play] Bingo on a Tuesday and I play whist on a Thursday and bowls on a Wednesday … also we do run sometimes a tea dance you know, just now and again’. Others have worked hard at putting on events that might bring ‘old’ and ‘new’ residents together, including reviving the annual garden party. As the new village has developed and the population diversified, so the nature of the organised activities on offer has expanded. Many residents feel that there is now considerable choice, both in terms of whether or not to participate and in terms of the opportunities to socialise and make friends. Pat Middleton, a widow who bought a house in 2006, speaks for many when she writes:

Choosing to attend social and leisure activities within the village is one way in which friendships can be formed with those who share similar interests, whether that be going for regular meals together in the café bar, playing bowls or snooker, or going on the regular weekly shopping trips, as Violet Dixon describes: I go on the Friday coach yes … and that's a social occasion too, isn't it, you can see … people that you don't see otherwise'. Percy Kerr also tells us that a revived interest in table tennis is assisting friendship formation:

That said, diary entries, directives and our observations also show that informal social contacts – often in the communal places and spaces – are as important as they had been in the old village. Then, the layout of the bungalows, and the absence of fences, facilitated informal socialising amongst residents, especially in the summer months when, as Laurence Martin remarked: ‘there would be a barbecue somewhere’. Today, residents tend to congregate just outside the shop while they wait for the bus or the regular Friday morning coach into Uxbridge, whilst the café bar is a key facility for informal socialising. In addition, as Rose Cross observes: ‘Many people know one another by sight or name and, if one walks through any of the communal areas, there is usually someone to have a chat to’. These two facets of community – both as ‘interest’ and as ‘place’ – in turn have implications for how community identity is forged and evolves over time. It is this aspect we now consider.

DGV and ‘community identity’: then and now

Feelings of belonging and attachment are at the heart of a shared sense of community identity and having a shared occupational background meant that, on arrival at DGV, many of the licensed victuallers felt a strong and almost immediate sense of connection both with the place and with other residents. As Laurence Martin said: ‘we were all the same breed … within a week you were part of the scene’. Having raised funds over the course of their working lives both for the development and the upkeep of the village, DGV very much belonged to the licensed victuallers and they to it. Indeed, a number of them continued to work at DGV, in either a paid or voluntary capacity, helping out in the kitchens or transporting residents round the site in the buggy. Nettie Gray told us:

If belonging, attachment and community identity was about participating in a collective enterprise and a shared lifestyle, it was also about the bonds between people and the friendships forged in this distinctive setting. Arthur Gibbs told us: ‘the lady next door I am quite friendly with – known her for forty years’, while Muriel Harris described friendship formation in these terms:

This sense of continuity with both people and place is important for maintaining continuity of the self. Even recent residents – without a lifetime's connection with DGV – spoke and wrote about how quickly they had settled in and felt ‘at home’, as Peter Groves explains:

Some of these feelings of belonging and attachment also appear to be bound up with a sense of pride in the village and recognition of its distinctiveness and, even, exclusivity. George Hughes wrote that it felt like living in a ‘first class hotel’ whilst Millicent Cook told us:

Being part of the village is expressed in comments about its ‘atmosphere’ and ‘feel’ and in the accounts of neighbourliness and indications of friendship and support between residents. Further on in his diary George Hughes writes about the speed with which he and his wife have made friends, while other recent residents like Reg Jones told us that: ‘For the first time in our lives we actually know our neighbours’. The support which exists is also encapsulated by Enid Foster when she writes: ‘We all look out for each other and help where we can with shopping and giving each other a lift to hospital or to the shops’. However, lest it be assumed that this rosy portrait of DGV is one of unalloyed harmony, we turn now to consider the extent to which our findings also challenge and disconfirm some of the notions of community articulated above.

Then and now, them and us: a community in transition?

An evolving community such as DGV is not without its tensions and disagreements and the findings from our study reveal that even within this ‘community of place’ there are social divisions and evidence of social exclusion and social isolation. Recently arrived licensed victualler June Peters expresses this very directly when she writes:

For their part, some of the ‘old’ licensed victuallers like Arthur Gibbs and Rosa Scott also talk about this feeling of ‘them and us’. Arthur says: ‘Now, unfortunately, with the people that have bought here, there is a feeling of them and us’; while Rosa writes: ‘New residents I feel resent we LVNH people, I don't know why, considering this was our land’.

That said, the picture is rather more complicated than simple divisions between the ‘old’ licensed victuallers and the newer people who have moved in since the redevelopment. Social divisions are rooted in a complex mixture of class, tenure, age, health status and size of the village, and may be expressed, for example, in participation or non-participation, engagement or non-engagement with what is happening. Newcomer Rebecca Jarvis writes that ‘the large number of residents, rather than the difference of backgrounds, make it difficult to mix’; a point echoed by long-term resident Enid Foster: ‘The size of the village makes it difficult to get to know all the people who live here where in the past we knew everyone’. Meanwhile, Rose Cross writes about how some of the other social divisions are reflected in the kinds of activities people do or do not take part in:

However, not all ‘new’ residents are leaseholders and a number of the new people who rent, like Lilly Bradshaw, observed that the ‘old’ licensed victuallers were in fact less welcoming to new tenants than the new leaseholders were:

Other residents make a conscious choice not to participate even though, like Arthur Gibbs, they may have been centrally involved in organising activities at one time:

Yet others are excluded from activities by virtue of their own tastes or because, try as they might, there is simply not the commitment or interest from other residents. Jerry Byrne spoke, for example, about how the shop no longer stocked his preferred newspaper, The Guardian, and how the Film Club shows ‘old’ films that do not interest him. Kathleen Lee meanwhile began by describing herself as ‘not really a “joiner”’, then went on to tell us how she had tried to get a group of residents together to pursue a particular leisure activity:

For others like Nettie Gray and Vera Poole, health status and mobility issues, coupled with the location of their accommodation, present barriers to participation and to their ability to form and maintain relationships:

Some people are also excluded from activities because other residents and/or staff consider that they are unable to participate because of their health status. This applies particularly to people with conditions such as dementia which, although not overtly raised by residents, was highlighted by some of our key informants:

There is an additional issue about the community outside the physical boundaries of the village and the fact that a number of the leisure facilities (the gym, café bar etc.) and the GP surgery are open to external visitors. Even when only licensed victuallers lived at DGV, the pub and other facilities were technically ‘open’ but, in reality, some key informants felt that, as far as the outside community was concerned, DGV was ‘Completely isolated … the LVNH ran it as a little island really and the fact that it was in Denham was just coincidental, it could've been anywhere … the only thing that was integrated was the pub’ (Key 6). Under the redevelopment, Anchor Trust ‘took some decisions, very early on, that the communal facilities … would be open to the wider community … that we wouldn't restrict it simply to the older people, living there’ (Key 1). This was a decision taken both on commercial grounds and as matter of principle, but one which has prompted conflicting responses.

From the perspective of one key informant, this decision has been a beneficial one:

However, for those who live there, the ‘public’, ‘visitors’, or ‘outsiders’ – as they are variously termed – are clearly identified as not being part of the village community and this manifests itself in, for example, disputes about the limited parking in the village centre and around the surgery. Another key informant summed these tensions up in these terms:

Not surprisingly then, the community dynamics within the village are complex and changing; relationships are forming and evolving, as are feelings of attachment and belonging. The introduction of ‘outsiders’ and ‘new’ people into an already existing community – albeit one that has undergone a major physical redevelopment – challenges and disturbs long-established bonds and ways of being and relating to one another. For some, this means that DGV ‘has lost that “togetherness”’ (Freda Parker) whilst, for others, change is embraced and welcomed. As Phyllis Horton put it: ‘I think the village will mature and evolve as time goes by’ while one of the key informants observed that: ‘I suppose in a sense you can't create communities really, but you can put in place structures that may encourage that’ (Key 11).

Discussion: a retirement community for the 21st century

Retirement communities like DGV are boundaried physical places and spaces within which issues around environment, identity and age collide. These in turn find expression in differing conceptualisations and understandings of community. In the case of DGV, time – and change over time – is key to this dynamic. Our findings illustrate not only the complexity of articulating ‘community’, but also the dynamic and evolving nature of those meanings over time. In discussing these aspects further, we first revisit the three-fold classification of community into ‘place’, ‘interest’ and ‘identity’ and consider some of the implications for our understandings of what ‘community’ is about in the context of a 21st-century, purpose-built retirement village.

Our findings indicate that the original licensed victuallers identified psychologically and emotionally with DGV as a place throughout their lives and, when they moved into the village, they brought with them a strong sense of ownership and community. For those who chose to stay, DGV as a place reflected their sense of identity as licensed victuallers and provided a setting in which to pursue shared leisure activities. Even the arrival of non-licensed victuallers from the late 1980s onwards did not seem to disturb this perhaps rather traditional, rose-tinted ‘sense of community’ and these incomers appear to have been successfully assimilated into life at DGV. Today, there is still strong evidence that ‘community of place’ retains a salience and meaning for residents both ‘old’ and ‘new’. The shared physical location, its identifiable boundaries, and the importance of centrally located communal facilities like the café bar and surgery are all consistent with the literature and empirical research on what makes for a geographically distinctive community (Andrews and Phillips Reference Andrews and Phillips2005; Croucher, Hicks and Jackson Reference Croucher, Hicks and Jackson2006; Peace, Holland and Kellaher Reference Peace, Holland and Kellaher2006; Rowles Reference Rowles1978; Smith Reference Smith2009).

The built environment also impacts on residents' sense of community, both positively in terms of spaces and places that facilitate social interaction (Evans and Means Reference Evans and Means2007), and negatively in the instances where people felt geographically distant and socially isolated (Evans Reference Evans2009b). Residents with mobility, health or financial difficulties can find themselves limited in the extent to which they are able to participate in village life or socially interact with other residents. By contrast, others see the village as a friendly and supportive place in which they have been able to form friendships with other residents, supporting the findings of several recent studies of such environments (Bernard et al. Reference Bernard, Bartlam, Biggs and Sim2004; Croucher, Pleace and Bevan Reference Croucher, Pleace and Bevan2003; Evans and Means Reference Evans and Means2007). Often too, these friendships have developed through shared interests and activities, whilst ‘neighbourly’ and supportive behaviours were also identified as important. Thus, despite the literature suggesting that ‘communities of interest’ are increasingly transcending geographical boundaries (Evans Reference Evans2009a; Massey Reference Massey2005; Savage Reference Savage2008), we would contend that DGV is a clear example of where communities of place and interest still coincide.

However, these two facets of community do not automatically translate into a shared sense of identity. Whilst the licensed victuallers appear to retain the kinds of bonds and patterns of shared meaning described by Crow and Allan (Reference Crow and Allan1994), the population of DGV is now larger and more socially and economically, if not ethnically, diverse. There is a sense that the ‘old’ licensed victuallers are increasingly ‘a community within a community’, the bonds between them having been reinforced by the arrival of ‘new’ residents (Crow and Allan Reference Crow and Allan1994) and expressed in some of the social divisions between them and newer residents. They feel DGV has lost its sense of ‘togetherness’, in contrast to those who are conscious that the village is in a period of transition. A sense of shared identity is still evolving and, as might be expected from the literature (Croucher, Hicks and Jackson Reference Croucher, Hicks and Jackson2006; Crow and Allan Reference Crow and Allan1994), this leads to tensions and differing perceptions of what the community is like and, on occasion, to negative perceptions of ageing and intimations of ageism between residents.

As we have seen, ‘new’ residents sometimes found it difficult to ‘join in’ with certain activities whilst some of the ‘old’ licensed victuallers felt that ‘new’ residents resented them and did not appreciate the history, heritage and hard work of those who had developed and kept the village running for more than 40 years before Anchor Trust took it over. At the time of writing, the physical redevelopment has only just been completed and, as yet, the village is not up to full capacity in terms of the numbers of residents it will eventually accommodate. In some ways then, it is not surprising that the village is not entirely socially cohesive if, indeed, this is ever possible. However, for one key informant, DGV will only have succeeded in becoming a true 21st-century community if: