The Real Reason For Increased Loneliness

A free post

Statistically, we are the loneliest we’ve ever been. Most of the time, we assume that isolation causes loneliness, and we run with the assumption because it sounds reasonable. We blame work, kids, stress, long commutes, geography, and finances for not spending time with friends and family.

But what if loneliness is less about availability and isolation and more about friction? What I mean by friction is the discomfort we feel when we try to communicate or when we hear things we don’t like.

Friction is inherent in human relationships. It always has been. Misunderstandings. Value differences. Annoyances. Political disagreements. Personality clashes. Competing needs. Subtle hurts. Repair attempts that don’t quite repair.

People hold grudges, judge, bully, criticize, and put others down. Some jump to fast conclusions. Others believe crazy things. And yet others are easily offended, take everything personally, and play blame games. Arrogance and entitlement don’t help either.

For most of human history, we endured friction because we had to. We didn’t curate our village or tribe. We didn’t swipe left on neighbors we didn’t like. We didn’t block cousins and annoying snoopers. We were forced into proximity and had to figure out how to live with them all because survival depended on it. We learned not to fear or avoid discomfort, but to deal with it, which required skills, eating humble pie, and a big-picture attitude.

Now we hide behind fake names on social media. We ghost people we don’t want to answer calls and messages from. We can block numbers, emails, and social media users. We can move to another town, get another job, and get divorced. We have the luxury to pretend that discomfort from interactions with others doesn’t exist by avoiding them.

And that, more than anything else, is driving modern loneliness. But instead of talking about our intolerance, lack of social skills, and thin skin, we talk about loneliness as if it’s a numbers problem.

The U.S. Surgeon General reported in 2023 that about half of American adults experience measurable loneliness. Young adults report even higher rates. Similar patterns are emerging in Europe and parts of Asia. But this is happening in a world of constant connection. We have phones in our pockets, group chats, video calls, and thousands of “friends” on social platforms. We’ve never been more connected. We have an explosion of events, festivals, meetups, interest groups, etc.

So the issue can’t be a lack of access to people. The issue has to be the superficiality and fragility of these connections. Because we avoid discomfort and friction, we avoid going deeper and getting to know anyone or allowing others to know us. We have no patience for explaining ourselves or listening to others. It’s easier to accuse someone of stupidity, label them toxic, selfish, and delusional, and discount them altogether than to work on understanding and appreciating nuances.

Nowadays, one of the biggest contributors to the fragility of connections is politics. At some point, politics stopped being about policy preferences. It now signals identity. It tells you what moral tribe someone belongs to. It hints at whether they are “good” or “dangerous.” Pew Research shows that large portions of both Republicans and Democrats in the U.S. view the opposing side not just as wrong, but as a threat to the nation. They see each other as dishonest and closed-minded. Nearly four in ten Americans report that political disagreements have damaged personal relationships.

When disagreement feels existential, friction feels threatening. And when friction feels threatening, especially to our identity, we withdraw.

You can see it everywhere. Families fracture over elections. Friendships dissolve after one heated dinner conversation. Dating matches evaporate over a mildly awkward comment.

The threshold for rupture is lower than it used to be. One wrong word and we’re done. So we force ourselves to keep things light. We avoid certain topics. We stick to small talk. We compartmentalize parts of ourselves depending on who we’re with. On the surface, interactions remain pleasant but thin.

Sadly, thin interactions do not build intimacy. Intimacy requires risk. It requires disclosure. It requires the willingness to stay in the room when something feels uncomfortable. It requires repair. Without repair, connection has no chance. It dies during the first disagreement or misunderstanding.

So people find themselves surrounded by others at work, in yoga classes, in dating situations, in family gatherings, and yet feel profoundly unseen. It’s this feeling of not being seen that is synonymous with loneliness.

The whole thing is one spiraling down, self-reinforcing cycle. Research shows that loneliness heightens threat sensitivity. It increases vigilance for rejection. It amplifies cortisol. The brain becomes primed to detect social danger. When we feel isolated, we become more attuned to cues that confirm that we don’t belong and that others are dangerous. In turn, this makes us more likely to avoid friction and social discomfort by avoiding other people altogether, or at least, by keeping interactions pleasant but not deep enough for us to feel seen and heard.

Interestingly, isolation makes us more suggestible, too. When we’re lonely, belonging feels urgent. Algorithms understand this even if not intentionally in a moral sense. They are optimized for engagement. And engagement rises when people feel outrage, moral validation, or threat.

Studies analyzing social media behavior consistently show that posts containing moral-emotional language spread farther than those containing neutral language. Hence, “rage-bate” was chosen as Word Of The Year for 2025.

If you’re lonely and scrolling, what captures you? Content that tells you:

• You are right.

• You are good.

• The problem is them.

• Your tribe is under attack.

• You are under existential threat.

• Your opponents are disreputable, immoral, and dangerous

Facts don’t matter, and frequently we don’t have all the facts. But this type of content simulates instant belonging. However, it also deepens division.

So the cycle becomes self-reinforcing:

Loneliness increases vulnerability.
Vulnerability increases tribal capture.
Tribal capture increases conflict.
Conflict destroys relationships.
Destroyed relationships increase loneliness.

We are caught in a loop.

There are other factors, of course. But those forces don’t fully explain why people with partners, friends, and active social calendars still feel lonely.

Evolutionarily, humans lived in small groups where exit was costly. They needed the group for survival and had to develop tolerance for conflict, skills in conflict resolution, and skills in relationship repair. Now survival doesn’t depend on the group in the same way. So our tolerance shrank. But the uncomfortable truth is that if friction becomes intolerable, isolation becomes inevitable. Connection without friction simply does not exist.

So, perhaps, loneliness is a symptom of our crisis of resilience in connection. We are less practiced at staying in unsettling conversations, at hearing different and opposing views, and at being misunderstood and trying again. At the same time, we’ve created technology to help us optimize for comfort, while also misunderstanding intimacy and connection to be nothing but comfort. So, we feel stuck and confused.

If we want to reduce loneliness, we don’t just need more events, more apps, more networks. We need thicker skin and softer hearts. We need conflict tolerance and conflict resolution skills. We need to decouple disagreement from moral annihilation. Without that, we will continue to mistake hyperconnection for belonging. And we will continue to feel alone even in crowded rooms and engaged social media spaces.

That’s just my two cents…

👉 In addition…
Lately, I’ve been thinking about running a small, structured 5-week group for people who feel disconnected. Maybe not dramatically unhappy or in crisis, but untethered from friendships, family, intimacy, and even from themselves.

This would not be a lecture series. It’s not meant to be group therapy either. It would be a guided, small-group process (max 12), real conversation, structured, practical, and will have an accountability element.

The focus:
Rebuilding meaningful connections in relationships, friendships, and your own inner life.

It will be held online.

Before I build it, I want to know if there’s real interest.

If you’d seriously consider joining, reply with YES so I can send early details when (and if) it launches. No one can see who voted.

After you vote, fill out this 1-question form, so I can get a better idea of what you would benefit the most from: https://forms.gle/UZGWKXGjbPzk3Pw88

Val.