When it comes to the term 'community', what was said decades ago still seems to apply: 'The term community is used in different senses for different purposes. When used in the popular sense, everyone seems to know what they are talking about, although they may mean different things and use the term loosely. As used by the sociologist, no one seems to agree on the concept, or even whether there is such a thing' (Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation 1968, p. 3).

The term is used to refer to a group of people that is formed in a specific territory (e.g. district, block of flats), but also in virtual space; it addresses shared interests (profession, leisure time, political or religious beliefs), shared experiences and identities (e.g. gender, class, 'race', sexual orientation, cultural practices...), specific circumstances (e.g. parenthood, school or university attendance) or kinship. These different aspects often overlap (Hampton/ Heaven 2014).

It is therefore difficult to determine the size and boundaries of communities. In virtual space, it can be potentially vast; in territorial space, its boundaries will look different from the internal perspective of its members than from the perspective of a city government that defines it administratively. In turn, a local community may include several different communities (religious, leisure, identity, etc.). The term community is a loaded one: ‘The idea of community is evocative. It suggests both images and feelings of identity, belonging, shared circumstance, and common cause’ (Chaskin 2013, p.105). It is also ambivalent: community can serve as a point of reference for solidarity and collective empowerment, but also as a starting point for ethnic-nationalist formation, as a vanishing point for yearnings for a sense of home and belonging in a globalised world, or as a (forced) compensation for inadequate welfare state services.

An early study on community work describes the essence of community as ‘a sense of common bond, the sharing of an identity, membership in a group, holding some things, physical or spiritual, in common as a team, coupled with the acknowledgment of rights and obligations with respect to all others so identified’ (Inkeles quoted in Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation 1968 p. 3). Many of the classics of community work (cf. Ross 1967) advocate an understanding of community based on an organic concept of community, as coined by Ferdinand Tönnies (1979/1887) and continually updated, for example, in communitarianism (see Etzioni 1993, Klekotko 2024). Th, the community is understood as a relatively autonomous and fundamental social unit. This understanding implies a tendency towards homogenisation. It suggests that a geographical area and the circumstances and interests of the people living in it are the same, thus obscuring the existence of unequal social positions and distributions of power. Even small residential areas break apart into very different 'sociospheres' (Albrow 1996), into different groups, each with their own way of using the area and interacting with each other. They see each other but have nothing to do with each other, they may cross paths, but they still move in a kind of parallel world in the same area. Even belonging to the same ethnic group or gender does not automatically lead to identical interests or values. Community does not automatically mean cohesion. This point needs to be emphasised if we are to avoid creating an illusory, romantic idea of community and obscuring social hierarchies and structural dependencies. Robert J. Chaskin describes the danger of 'suppressing the recognition and appreciation of difference, underemphasizing the inherent reality of conflict and division within and without communities, and eliding broader issues of structure and agency that shape community circumstances from within and without through the decisions and actions of political and market actors' (2013, p. 109).

The pioneer of community organising, Saul D. Alinsky, understands community objectively as a spatially defined and dynamic network of relationships, organisations and institutions that develops due to immigration, which has an internal socialising effect and is a dependent part of an overall urban context and influenced by social influences from outside, i.e. it is not a closed unit (Szynka 2006: 150).

Yet, not all communities are local; people also connect virtually or across district boundaries according to their interests. However, local communities are the primary reference point for StoP.  Klekotko (2024) calls this the 'community as place perspective'. This conceptualises physical location and spatial proximity as the basis for the networking of local interests and identity formation: 'It is the conjunction of these three elements, i.e. shared territory (spatial aspect), interests or otherwise objective ties (social aspect), and practices of everyday life (cultural aspect)' (Klekotko 2024 p. 3).

When this Toolbox refers to community, it usually means the local form, i.e. the neighbourhood. Like 'community', the term 'neighbourhood' evokes a range of associations - from a socially romantic notion of harmonious, supportive co-existence to a restrictive system of control, to a purely spatial, emotionally neutral context. As with the term 'community', there has been research and lively discussion on this topic for many decades (see Klekotko 2024, Drilling et al. 2022).

In fact, the term ‘neighbourhood’ has historically meant different things in different geographical, socio-cultural or societal contexts. Neighbourhood in the pre-industrial era had different qualities than in the 21st century, not only regarding individualisation or digitalisation; it is different in terms of spatial expansion and social interaction in the village than in the city, in a high-rise or an American suburban settlement, and is different in Berlin than in a megacity of the global south like Lagos.

However, there are always two elements that define them, whether at the level of definition or analysis: social relations and place (Kurtenbach 2024 p 82). Who people themselves consider their neighbours varies and can range from neighbours on the same floor of an apartment building to an entire (clearly defined) residential area (see Klages 1968: 103). In a broader sense, the neighbourhood also includes those who provide local commercial or social and medical services, as well as facilities such as schools, kindergartens and public libraries. When we talk about neighbourhood in StoP, we include these institutions. They are sometimes referred to as 'formal neighbours', as opposed to 'informal neighbours', who live only in the neighbourhood. There are also neighbours who are both, living and working in the neighbourhood. Both groups are needed for mobilisation, organisation, action and change!

Neighbours are a social group that 'interact primarily because they live near each other' (Hamm 1998: 173). The starting point and primary criterion for identifying neighbours is therefore residential or spatial proximity. Who lives where is determined by rents and the housing market, sometimes by employers or government housing programmes. As a result, for many people neighbourhood is usually predetermined and not freely chosen; it is also always a question of resources and status.

A neighbourhood in the sense of a social relationship, on the other hand, must first be established; it does not exist from the outset. Relationships can be avoided or desired and actively lived. Neighbourhood is dynamic, its size varies according to one's own mobility and networking. The place can also change, e.g. through new developments, traffic routing, climate change. Neighbourhood is therefore not a given, but a practice and always in flux (Blokland 2017, Drilling et al. 2022).

It is therefore difficult to define the size and boundaries of a neighbourhood. The distance from the typical American's home to the edge of their neighbourhood is between 520 and 1060 metres, according to specific government documents (Donaldson 2013: 2). The neighbourhood in which events are directly experienced or known is likely to be much smaller, unless they are deliberately communicated through communication networks. This is an important point for StoP community work in sparsely populated areas, e.g. rural or suburban areas. Here it is important to strengthen and use such networks.

Like kinship, work or club membership, the neighbourhood can be seen as a 'focal point' through which people come into contact and do things together. People are more likely to form social relationships if they live in the same area. Participation in local activities, such as a neighbourhood festival or simply waiting at the bus stop, can lead to interactions and thus proximity, which in turn can lead to ties and thus networks. The density and frequency of contacts is determined by additional commonalities such as children, work, shared gardens or pre-existing friendships or kinship relationships.

Spatial proximity does not necessarily lead to the emergence of a solidary community (Klekotko 2024: 17). How neighbourly relations actually develop, whether a peaceful and friendly community is formed from a collection of people living side by side or whether small civil wars rage depends on numerous factors. These include physical and social conditions. It makes a difference whether the house and stairwell are inviting and spacious or dark and forbidding, whether there are communal areas (garden, laundry room) and whether the walls are solid or very thin, making it easy to overhear everything that goes on. The existence of public spaces and everyday contact places like local businesses and shopping streets can enhance interactions and relations (Steigemann 2019). Historical experience of the neighbourhood also plays a role. Totalitarian regimes, of which there have been some in Europe, often used neighbours as spies and informers. For this reason, the term 'neighbourhood' does not have a good ring to it, especially for older people. We can hope (and do something!) that history will not repeat itself.  

The way in which people live together is always determined by societal concepts about, i.e. women, men, gender, by a variety of stereotypes and prejudices, by racism and class divisions. People see each other through the lens of their mutual attributions and expectations, as well as their individual biographical experiences. Neighbourhoods, especially if they are small and homogeneous and people identify with them, can also be exclusionary, as  Bernardo and Palma-Oliviera (2016, p. 587) show in their study: ‘We found that participants with greater identification with their neighbourhood were those that showed greater motivation to discriminate against members of the outgroup.’

There is no universally established positive meaning of neighbourhood; the helpful neighbour is contrasted with the ‘annoying’ neighbour. The following positive characteristics were mentioned in surveys: talkative, helpful, sociable, generous; negative were: envious, unfriendly, withdrawn, curious, noisy and nosey. The latter leads to the topic of neighbourhood conflicts. These are not uncommon and often bitter, the most common cause at least in Germany being noise, followed by inconsiderateness (Ipsos 2019, p. 1)

In the past, neighbourly help was essential for securing the material necessities of life; it consisted of fixed tasks and duties. However, this binding, cooperative structure began to disintegrate in the run-up to industrialisation. With industrialisation, the functional differentiation of society, the introduction of civil law and public insurance systems, it lost its importance (cf. Klages 1968: 99). This process is continuing. Traditional and long-term social ties, whether family or neighbourhood, whether to churches or employers, are declining, while individualisation and ‘singularisation’ (Reckwitz 2020) are increasing. People's living environments are no longer confined to a single neighbourhood, and modern means of communication and transport tend to dissolve local ties (see Klekotko 2024:17; Wellman 1979). The urban population is becoming more diverse in terms of origins and lifestyles, values and political positions are diverging. Relationships are becoming less committed and more distant, and social control is declining. In villages, too, the structure of the population and the nature of social contact are changing because of the commercialisation of agriculture, migration, the growth of tourism, the expansion of the road network or access to the Internet. (Belina et al. 2022).

Not only since Robert Putnam's highly acclaimed work 'Bowling Alone' (2000), but also since the beginning of (urban) sociological research, has it been described, noted and lamented that community is being lost, traditional milieus are dissolving, anonymity is spreading, people are becoming increasingly alienated from one another and withdrawing into their private four walls (cf. Durkheim 1992/1930; Fischer 1982, Simmel 1995/1903; Wirth 1974/1938). Urban life in particular stands for the loss of reliable, socially integrating relationships. 'Few ideas saturate Western thought as does the conviction that modern life has destroyed 'community'. Virtually taken for granted by philosophers and citizens alike is the belief that modern society has disrupted people's natural relations to one another, loosened individuals' commitments to kin and neighbours, and substituted shallow encounters with passing acquaintances [...] The city plays a key role in this drama' (Fischer 1982: 1).

In the 'age of globalisation', social upheaval has accelerated, with massive changes taking place in a short space of time. Zygmunt Bauman (2001) has described this social change in dramatic terms. He speaks of a 'whirlwind' (ibid: 46) that sweeps everything up, tears it apart and destroys the conditions for collective action. The fears of the future and the dark forebodings that afflict people divide and separate them, even though they suffer from the same uncertainties and conditions. This is a development that has intensified over the years and continues to do so today. Insecurity and precariousness do not only characterise everyday working life and family situations. Bauman vividly describes how these developments are increasingly affecting everyday infrastructures. Nothing stays long enough to become familiar; small shops and local bank branches are disappearing and being replaced by supermarket chains, mechanical telephone voices and website icons: ‘Gone are most of the steady and solidly dug-in orientation points which suggested a social setting that was more durable, more secure and more reliable than the timespan of an individual life’ (2001: 47).

However, this perspective of a 'lost community' does not do justice to the actual situation. On the one hand, globalisation also produces its opposite: alongside a rising nationalism, there is also a longing for local roots, for identification, for clear contexts, for social and local ties. A societal system that has made permanent change and insecurity its basic condition thus produces resistance and alternative proposals at the same time.

One of the 'unintended consequences of modern capitalism is that it has strengthened the value of place, aroused a longing for community', as Richard Sennett put it back in 1998 (p.138).

On the other hand, based on a wealth of empirical evidence, it can be said that 'social ties continue to function effectively, although their strength may vary according to the demographic, social and cultural composition of the neighbourhood' (Klekotko 2024, p.5). Social networks do not dissolve without replacement, but their character is changing: "the new forms of neighbourliness and 'communitisation' are more fluid and open" (Drilling et al. 2022: 8).

In contrast to earlier rural communities, each of which consisted of a single, tightly knit network, these are more dispersed, loosely knit and flexible networks. Although core networks and household sizes are becoming smaller, the number of lone parents and single households has increased enormously. At the same time, new forms of community building are emerging along with the increase in small and non-family households (Peukert 2019: 24). The personal networks of many people are expanding through the growth of 'patchwork families' and self-chosen, not biologically but socially defined parenthood and cohabitation. These are not necessarily characterised by close physical proximity, but even in modern cities people sometimes live close to friends, relatives (by choice) or work colleagues, or they choose to live close to them because it saves time and travel, is convenient for organising everyday life and/or because they value being close to each other. Especially in times of individualisation, flexible or overlong working hours, second jobs and modern consumption patterns, as a single person or single parent you are existentially dependent on helpful contacts in the neighbourhood, unless you don't have plants or pets, always have everything you need in stock, never get sick and don't order any packages.

Digitalisation and social media are also creating new networks, although they are often blamed for polarisation and social fragmentation. But they are also creating new structures of exchange, such as networks of social engagement and neighbourhood help organised through apps. In particular, the coronavirus pandemic has given rise to additional new forms of solidarity, organised and experienced through digital neighbourhood platforms (Kurtenbach 2024, p. 118).

Local communities and networks have also taken on a new significance in terms of the nature of political intervention: 'New types of local communities are emerging and operating within public spaces. They are not defined by traditions or neighbourhood ties, but by collective actions and shared goals that benefit the entire community' (Klekotko 2024:14).

These neighbourhood initiatives may, for example, fight against gentrification and for the preservation of housing, against social injustice and for a better care infrastructure, against overtourism in their neighbourhood, or they may create gardens together and work for a healthier environment (Anguelovski 2015, Arana 2023, Baracskai 2024, Cornish 2021, Jupp 2022, Milbourne 2021).

Whether and how people use their local community depends, on the one hand, on the amenities and quality of life in the neighbourhood. It makes a difference whether there are public facilities, parks and shopping facilities. A study by Anne Steigemann shows the great importance of local businesses for community building: ‘Most centrally, business people clearly foster social benefits that go beyond the mere provision of goods. Their business settings generate important forms of interaction, with real meaning for such facets of neighbourhood life as sense of belonging, rootedness, social trust, and managing difference... These businesses concretely bring (diverse) urban dwellers together far more often than other forms of civic engagement’ (Steigemann 2019, p 301).

On the other hand, it depends on the socio-economic status and integration of the residents into the wider society.  Not all people are equally mobile. Local communities have always been, and still are, important for people who are less mobile and socially marginalised. (White) People with higher incomes and levels of education tend to have larger, more diverse networks and a greater stake in society and its goods. Refugee and ethnic minority status, poverty, old age or disabilities lead to reduced mobility and thus greater dependence on a local community. 'People who are less integrated into the larger society (...) tend to have networks that are smaller, more intense and more frequently engaged  within the neighbourhood' (Chaskin 2013: 111). For them, the neighbourhood fulfils key social functions. This is often also the case for women with young children resp. people with caring responsibilities.

As Vallée et. al. (2014, n.p.) state: ‘Residential area does indeed remain one essential anchor space in personal daily organisation, notably for people with limited daily mobility (such as the elderly) and/or for activities requiring proximity to home (such as doctors’ visits and purchase of drugs for those who are sick and confined to bed, or last-minute grocery shopping).’ And, we would add, for bystanders and neighbours, to stop domestic violence and transform its foundations by changing attitudes, behaviour and gender norms in the socio-spatial environment.

The underlying idea of StoP is that communities, especially local communities, can make an important contribution to preventing and protecting against domestic violence and that this potential can be activated and effectively realised through education, relationship building, mobilisation and organisation. In the following we would like to clarify exactly what this contribution looks like and what qualities of communities we can rely on to achieve the goal of supportive, attentive and proactive neighbourhoods and non-violent, equal relationships.

The StoP concept is grounded in science and practice. Our thinking is based on insights from network and social capital theory, neighbourhood and engagement research, and our experience of StoP work in now 60 local communities in Austria and Germany, supported by international evidence from community work (Gloor, Meier 2022).

Why does the StoP concept focus on the neighbourhood? This is where domestic violence happens. Because of their physical proximity, neighbours learn about partner violence and become (involuntary) witnesses. They are part of a socio-spatial network with stronger or weaker ties that absorbs and passes on information. Neighbours hear something, either directly, such as shouting and sobbing from the flat next door, or indirectly through chats in the neighbourhood, e.g. at the local sports club, at the bakery or in the bar. At the hairdresser's they learn that a certain neighbour rarely leaves the house anymore and that her husband apparently forbids her to go to the hairdresser's.

They see or suspect something by chance, e.g. they are at the playground with their children and a woman sits on the bench next to them, crying quietly to herself. They work in a nursery school and two of the children are suddenly absent for several days, and their mother is nowhere to be found. A woman from the community choir has been coming less and less often, seems withdrawn, and during choir practice she receives a text message from her boyfriend every few minutes. You see your neighbour shopping with a swollen face. On the way home, you see someone verbally or physically threatening their companion.

There are countless small clues in everyday life. Domestic violence is not always involved, but it is likely.

Neighbours are often involved, at least indirectly. They feel disturbed and frightened by what they see or suspect. They may be angry or sympathetic, want to help but are at a loss, don't know how and feel unable to do anything themselves; they look away or turn up the TV; they get angry at the women involved, blame them or think it's a private matter that shouldn't be interfered with; they think it's an expression of love when someone keeps calling their partner or won't let them go out alone; they think that violence is an expression of a particular culture and that nothing can be done about it.

How people in the local community think or react matters and can make a big difference. Violence can be prevented or hidden and supported. Their attitudes and behaviour can save lives or encourage violence, even if only through indifference and passivity.

The uniqueness and the great potential of neighbours is their proximity. They live close by and it doesn't take them long to reach a victim of violence if something happens. Conversely, they can be reached quickly if help is needed. They meet perpetrators and victims in the stairwell, at the street party, while shopping - they can say something, they can do something. And this is the starting point for StoP's community work.

The basic idea is that neighbourhoods are a spatially embedded web of relationships, i.e. a social network that produces support services. To understand and describe these services, they are referred to as social capital. WHO defines social capital as follows

‘Social capital represents the degree of social cohesion which exists in communities. It refers to the processes between people which establish networks, norms, and social trust, and facilitate co-ordination and co-operation for mutual benefit. Social capital is created from the myriad of everyday interactions between people, and is embodied in such structures as civic and religious groups, family membership, informal community networks, and in norms of voluntarism, altruism and trust. The stronger these networks and bonds, the more likely it is that members of a community will co-operate for mutual benefit.’ (WHO 1998: 19)

There are many theories of social capital (Tsounis/ Xanthopoulou 2024). A much quoted theory goes back to James Colemann (1988, 1990). For him, social capital is generated in interpersonal relationships and involves a utility calculation, i.e. moments of rational action in the context of one's own interests and goal attainment. Another comes from the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. He defines social capital as 'the totality of actual and potential resources linked to the possession of a permanent network of more or less institutionalised relationships of mutual knowledge or recognition; or, in other words, these are resources based on belonging to a group' (1983: 190; 191). Yet another theory is that of Robert Putnam. The core idea of social capital theory is that social networks have value [...], social capital refers to connections between individuals - social networks and the norm of reciprocity and trustworthiness arise from them' (Putnam 2000: 19). For him, social capital is more a collective property of larger social structures. Putnam attributes the following positive attributes to social capital: mutual support, cooperation, trust building and civic engagement, as well as promoting the functioning of institutions.

An empirical study by Carolyn R. Block and Wesley G. Skogan (2001), based on repeated interviews with 210 abused women in Chicago, supplemented by extensive local census data and police statistics, found that the presence of an informal support network and a lower level of social isolation increased the likelihood that an abused woman would take action and seek help. The extent to which the informal network is sympathetic to the woman and provides emotional and practical support, particularly in times of crisis, has a positive effect on the stopping of violence, the reduction of violence (as measured by the length of periods of non-violence) and the likelihood of escaping violence in the future (see ibid: 90, 92).

The following social network support resources have enormous potential for help and change

These qualities become apparent in situations of opportunity, need and emergency. An important key to this is their low barriers, their accessibility. Health research has provided ample evidence of the beneficial effects of informal social networks. They reduce the negative impact of stressful life events and help people cope better with transitions, crises and stress situations such as retirement, divorce, bereavement or unemployment (Bruns 2013, Hartung 2019, Hollstein 2001). Robert Putnam formulates their salutogenic importance somewhat casually: '‘Social capital appears to be a complement, if not a substitute for Prozac, sleeping pills, antacids, vitamin C, and other drugs we buy at the corner pharmacy.’ (2000: 289).

From the perspective of developmental psychology, social networks are like an ‘escort’ (Röhrle 1994), since they form a social environment that is necessary for individual human development, not only in times of crisis, but throughout the entire life course. Social networks have a socialising effect and transmit, for example, socio-cultural norms and guidelines to the micro level of the family system, which is at the same time part of larger networks at the meso level. Network functions such as social support and normative control have direct and indirect effects on the family climate, on parental attitudes and interactional styles, on the cognitive and social stimulation of adolescents and their perception of social roles, and on the development of specific cognitive abilities and structures. Conversely, family and environmental contexts influence social networks. Many studies show that people's behavioural and educational choices are also motivated by role models in their social environment.

‘My fate depends not only on whether I study, stay off drugs, go to church, (+ act peaceful, S.St.) but also whether my neighbours do these things’ (Putnam 2000: 312).

If active rejection of discriminatory and violent behaviour towards women or queer people were the rule rather than the exception, if neighbours spoke out clearly and disapprovingly about violent incidents, if they offered help to a woman who had been abused in their building in front of their children, then role models would be created that could help establish new patterns of behaviour and reduce violence!

This is exactly what a major study by Christopher Browning (2002) shows. He makes a compelling case for the importance of the neighbourhood. His analysis focused on three variables: (a) the number of women murdered by their partners in the neighbourhoods studied, (b) the incidence of non-fatal serious violence by the current partner in the previous year, and (c) whether the women had spoken to informal or professional helpers about their relationship conflicts and experiences of violence. He found a correlation between the prevalence of norms of non-intervention and homicide rates: specifically, when norms in a neighbourhood supported intervention in the use of violence, homicide rates decreased. This connection was also found for non-fatal violence, but not to the same extent. According to Browning, the moderating influence of collective efficacy on lethal and non-lethal violence is in any case stronger the less valid norms of non-intervention are: ‘increasingly prevalent non-intervention norms, on average lead to an increase in the likelihood of partner violence among women’ (ibid.: 845).

Regarding the willingness to disclose, Browning's study shows that it increases a) the stronger the collective efficacy, b) the more sources of conflict there are in the women's relationships, c) the more severe the violence, d) the more friends the women have, and e) the younger they are. Browning summarized his findings as follows:

Our task, then, is to ensure that the collective capacity and willingness to act on partner/domestic violence is strengthened!

However, it has to be emphasized that social capital is unequally distributed and that its use is subject to many preconditions. Therefore, we will first address some important objections and describe our substantive and methodological considerations:

1. The fact that these network resources exist does not automatically mean that they are effective; they may simply be 'dormant' and unused.

TRUE. That is why there is a need for professional organisers who can mobilise this potential support in 'purposeful actions' (Lin 2001: 41) specifically for helping, protecting and preventing partner violence, and who create the conditions for their use. This is precisely what StoP does. StoP's work focuses on using information, individual and public talks, counselling, workshops and actions to raise awareness of how valuable, important and feasible these forms of support are.

2. The availability of social capital is not individual but socially and structurally embedded and depends on the social status and professional position of the individual. The extent of social network resources and access to them varies greatly, depending on the size of the mobilisable network of relationships and the nature and extent of the resources (money, education, relationships) of other network members. People who are denied social recognition and belonging, who are poor, unemployed, marginalised and isolated, have less social capital. This often applies to victims of domestic violence, especially in poor, migrant and/or queer communities. In addition, social relationships are not for free, they require maintenance, cost time, commitment and possibly money, create mutual obligations (reciprocity) and possibly burdens that not everyone can bear.

TRUE. This is also an argument for installing additional resources in the form of professional support for networking in these communities. External support is needed, and money and staff must be made available to ensure that this support is effective and does not overwhelm people. However, the benefits of social networks and the costs of domestic violence (legal, medical, loss of work, etc.) far outweigh the costs of a StoP project (full-time organisers and resources for education and outreach).

StoP is like an additional resource, helping to strengthen and expand the resources people already have. StoP organisers combine the mobilisation of individual network resources with the organisation of collective mutual support systems in the context of neighbourhood groups. These groups are set up by StoP in local communities and provide a reliable, accessible structure for change and solidarity.

3. Robert Putnam emphasises that social capital is not a priori beneficial and socially inclusive: ‘Networks and the associated norms of reciprocity are generally good for those inside the network, but the external effects of social capital are by no means always positive’ (2001: 21). He cites sects, racial exclusion, ethnocentrism and corruption as negative aspects and notes that mafia-like structures or street gangs also build social capital. A network can deliberately use its social capital against other groups and be internally controlling, restrictive and oppressive.

TRUE. We need to be aware of this and take this knowledge into account. In this context, it is helpful to distinguish between inward-looking 'bonding capital', which aims to strengthen internal ties and is a 'social superglue' (2001: 22), and outward-looking 'bridging capital', which connects people from different social backgrounds and builds bridges. Bonding social capital is found in rather small, dense, homogeneous networks, such as (extended) family networks. In such networks, all individuals in the network know each other directly; these are referred to as 'first-order zone’ contacts. Such networks support fixed, simple, clear patterns of identity, they offer a high degree of reciprocity, i.e. mutual obligation and usually reliable help and thus security.

Strong local networks can exercise effective social control, which is necessary, for example, to hold violent partners accountable – either before the situation escalates to the point where the police have to be called, to make police action unnecessary and to solve the situation within the community or to supplement police orders. However, it is also possible to become stuck in this dense web, unable or not allowed to experience alternatives to established ways of life. For women in abusive relationships, it can become such a trap if this close social environment holds a more traditional view of gender roles, trivialises the violence and requires the woman to endure it.

In contrast, the 'bridge-building' capital includes less secure and sustainable relationships. This second-order zone involves 'weak ties', i.e. a loose network whose members do not all know each other personally, only occasionally and with less commitment, and which covers greater social distances. Contacts are more indirect, i.e. I only know person A, who in turn knows person B, who puts me in touch with them, so to speak, and forms a 'bridge' for me through which I can reach person B. According to the 'strength of weak ties' theorem (Granovetter 1973), the larger the pool of bridge people, and thus of weak ties and network people, the more access points there are to more distant resources, to more and new information and to different ways of thinking. A loose network transcends the horizon of the immediate social environment and thus opens more diverse options. Also, digital networks, neighbourhood platforms, forums and messenger services play an increasing role. This is of existential importance for those affected by partner violence.

StoP is a new resource in local communities that helps to bring people together, to strengthen and expand existing networks, to feed information and ideas about loving partnerships.

4. Nowadays, people in neighbourhoods don't know each other and don't help each other; those networks don't exist anymore. Either everything is very isolated and anonymous, or it is digital.

NOT TRUE! Several recent studies from Germany, a highly individualised and very diverse society, have shown that almost 70 per cent of respondents in Germany occasionally support their neighbours in minor matters. Overall, some 19.8 per cent of respondents in Germany had close contact with their neighbours, with four per cent of them having very close contact. Results from another study of 3,000 respondents in Germany in 2021 showed that 49 per cent of young adults met or chatted with their neighbours at least once a month, compared to 71 per cent of families (Statista 2023). According to Kurtenbach's research, the neighbourhood 'is also a source for overcoming crises and provides support in everyday life that hardly any other relationship can offer' (2024: 77).

Volunteering is on the rise - both in the context of civil society organisations! The long-term study, based on data from the German Socio-Economic Panel (SOEP), a representative survey of around 30,000 people in almost 22,000 households, shows that the proportion of volunteers aged 17 and over will rise from almost a quarter (24%) in 1992 to more than a third (35%) in 2021, and that regular volunteering will also increase. In 2021, more than a fifth (22%) said they volunteered at least once a month (Alscher et al. 2024 a).

The German Survey on Volunteering shows similar trends: 'In 2019, 39.7 per cent of people aged 14 and over living in Germany are involved in some form of voluntary activity. In 1999, this figure was only 30.9 per cent. Volunteering is most prevalent in the areas of sports and exercise, culture and music, and social work.' (Simonson et al. 2021: 4)

Engagement has also increased in the self-organised, informal sector. In 1999, 37 % of respondents aged 17 and over said they helped friends, relatives or neighbours with everyday tasks at least once a month; by 2017, this figure had risen to 47 %, or almost half (Alscher et al. 2024 b).

When asked about their motivations, 86 % of people cite a general desire to help others, to do something for specific groups or causes (82 %), to get involved because they feel needed (82 %), or simply to improve or maintain the quality of life in their community (70 %). The joy of helping is also frequently cited. This is consistent with the findings of a study of StoP work (Wachter 2024).

As one activist put it:

There is also a personal concern about the issue, a motivation to spare others what they have been through:

There is also a personal concern about the issue, a motivation to spare others what they have been through:

In all approaches to mobilising civic engagement, there is a risk of instrumentalisation, with state agencies withdrawing and shifting responsibility to the communities. StoP's community organisation and people's self-organisation are an important complement to, but not a substitute for, state social structures and services. Women's shelters, professional counselling centres and programmes for perpetrators have other tasks and are urgently needed. Only together will it work, only together we can be succesful!

Ultimately, it takes more than local communities to truly end violence. Problems such as domestic violence and gender inequality do not arise in a local community and cannot be stopped there alone. This is even more true in the globalised and interconnected world of the 21st century. Communities are shaped by macro-structural forces determined by technological developments in transport and communication, global trends in urbanisation, economic interests, migration, climate change and (geo)political power relations. These overarching influences also include patriarchal patterns of coexistence, reflected in the unequal distribution of rights, resources and work.

Local movements need to link up with other groups, organisations and policy-makers at regional and national levels to achieve improvements through policy decisions, programmes and legislation. This is why the StoP approach involves building alliances beyond the local community and working in networks, as explained in step 8 of the 'How to do StoP' section of this toolbox. Positive changes at the macro-societal level have a knock-on effect on communities, improving conditions there. Conversely, new ideas and good examples from the local level can have an impact on society.

Robert Chaskin (2013, p. 105) describes these two-way directions of intervention as follows:

 'Local communities (such as neighbourhoods) are often the foundation for broader mobilisation and advocacy efforts, but they are also a focus of change in themselves'.

Neighbourhoods are not inherently a helpful and supportive network of relationships, but they can be (and often already are). Because of its proximity, the neighbourhood is a social-ecological opportunity structure for processes of network formation. It forms social capital and provides points of contact and valuable potential, e.g. for exchanging information and learning from each other, which also includes unlearning ignorant, violence-promoting attitudes; for mutual material and emotional support, and for direct protection. An organising authority, a vision, resources and appropriate know-how are needed to put this potential for preventing and ending domestic violence into practice.  This is what StoP stands for with its concept based on community organising and its wealth of knowledge and methods.

Before we present the eight organising steps with concrete examples and methods in the third major chapter of the toolbox - How to do StoP - the next section provides more information about the basics, principles and ideas of community organising.