I am relieved that you don’t have to be old or past it with wrinkles and creaks to be lonely. It’s encouraging that the solitary soul affliction isn’t only for little old ladies clinging on to their handbags in nursing homes or lost-looking widowers walking their yappy little dogs along Dollymount strand.
Regular readers of the of The Irish Times may have noticed a recent letter from an anonymous 30-something-year-old to Trish Murphy, of the Tell Me About It column. It may well become one of the most-read articles of 2024.
Wouldn’t it be great to talk to some of the people who read this cry-for-help and its professional response?
I love the treasury of solitude most of the time: withdrawing from our frenetic world is a gift; breathing slowly while sitting – just like I am now – and reflecting on the utter madness of the human condition
Wouldn’t it be even better if these people – of all ages, I’m guessing – were not afraid or ashamed to identify themselves?
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I bet you they are there on the bus or train sitting beside you or me right now, looking cool, even sophisticated. They’re sitting across from you at the canteen table on college campuses all over the country or, indeed, asking the most interesting questions at tutorials. I bet you they are also that pain in the arse who always seems to be the life and soul of the party, witty and good looking, receiving all the attention.
Sometimes, I am one of those lonely people.
Ironically though, it isn’t usually when I am alone. I love the treasury of solitude most of the time: withdrawing from our frenetic world is a gift; breathing slowly while sitting – just like I am now – and reflecting on the utter madness of the human condition. Watching a tiny Great Tit dangle on the flowering clematis that frames the window of my office. Feeling the expansion of light coming over the horizon out there on the edge of Clew Bay. Drinking my morning coffee and writing a list that leads off with a new eyebrow pencil or bunion plaster and ends with lemons, garlic crème fraîche and my latest discovery, une bouteille de Tour de Montrabech – most importantly a vin biologique.
Actually, it is there in the aisle of the supermarket that I sometimes feel lonely.
As a one-time tutor in the science of sociology, I believe that quantitative studies of any issue, including the condition of loneliness, fall far short of the complexity of its causes
Watching couples at the butcher’s counter chat over what sized Sunday roast they need; parents hauling toddlers away from the sweets stand, or young lovers stealing a quick peck on the cheek as they decide on the ingredients for a stir-fry.
As a one-time tutor in the science of sociology, I believe that quantitative studies of any issue, including the condition of loneliness, fall far short of the complexity of its causes, but at least highlight the extent of the problem.
According to the UK’s Campaign to End Loneliness, some 25 million people have reported that “they are occasionally, sometimes, or often lonely”. In the United States, its pioneering surgeon general Vivek Murty argues that loneliness “has escalated into a public health emergency, affecting one in two Americans, with health impacts as serious as addiction and obesity, and warned it was as dangerous to health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day”.
He is at the helm of a new World Health Organisation commission to address social isolation. In a Guardian interview with Murty earlier this year, it stated: “Not only does [loneliness] undermine physical and mental health, but, in his diagnosis, it underpins many of our more pernicious ills, including violence, addiction and extremism. The antidote, he says, is human connection.”
Such campaigns, commissions and advocacy are to be welcomed, of course. Open discussion will highlight the obvious causes such as social isolation, feelings of disconnectedness due to the anonymity of metropolitan living and working or indeed latchkey commuting. Unsurprisingly, Murty raises the huge issue of device addictions.
But isn’t that just a symptom of a new cultural phenomenon and not the essential cause which is much more visceral?
He observed that the dining halls on college campuses which used to be the loudest places have become much quieter. “People are listening to something in their earbuds. They’re looking at their phones, they’re on their laptops. And young people are telling us that when conversations become uncomfortable or hard, it’s much easier to just pull out your phone.”
But isn’t that just a symptom of a new cultural phenomenon and not the essential cause which is much more visceral?
The key question for me still is why is there such a stigma to loneliness.
Why are we ashamed of feeling lost sometimes?
Is it not simply a part of our human condition?
Ah! Yes, it is time to read Beckett’s Endgame again – just for the laugh.