Archive for the ‘Social Isolation’ Category
The public isolation project
I heard about the public isolation project via another author on Twitter a few weeks ago, and I’ve been mulling it over ever since. The idea is this: a young woman lives in a gallery window, communicating with no one except through telecommunications. Her life is on view to all passers-by, and she has no social contact (though she does have email, text message, Skype, etc.)
The project is “arty” — it’s meant to make a statement — but I think it almost understates the problem. How to put this? I’ve heard from lots and lots of people who are living lives of isolation, and they’re not being interviewed on CNN; their isolation isn’t something being documented in newspapers; it’s not something that’s going to end.
We’re hearing a lot these days about the relative isolation of living in a technologically advanced society, and there’s something to this. But I think we’re forgetting about old, brass-tacks isolation: the kind where the phone doesn’t ring, and no one visits, and touch has become a thing of the past. This kind of aloneness doesn’t get written up in the papers, or ever discussed in a public way. Yet it’s this kind of isolation (the “old fashioned” kind) that most people struggle with. This sort of aloneness interests me, and I’m going to keep trying to draw attention to it. (Everyone has their mission in life. This is mine!)
December 15, 2010 | Category: Long-term Loneliness, Social Isolation | 4 Comments »
Bowling Alone and declining social support
I promise not to turn this blog into a book club, but several readers have written in to ask me to blog about Robert Putnam’s “Bowling Alone.” If you’ve ever wondered whether isolation is in fact on the rise, Putnam’s book has the answer: yes, it is. He demonstrates this with piles of data and stats, though the book is a surprisingly easy read.
What Bowling Alone does in a really wonderful, readable fashion is document how we’ve become more alone in many areas of our lives–work, religion, political participation, and formal associations. Within every single one of these areas, togetherness is on the wane, meaning there is less companionship available now than there was thirty or forty years ago.
Critics have said that Putnam is just behind the times, and that togetherness is simply taking different forms (e.g., we’re sending emails instead of joining the Elks Club). But I think his analysis is sound. We are alone more than we used to be. Putnam’s book is nice because it’s not nostalgic: he’s not yearning for some by-gone era in which everything was somehow better than it was today. All he’s saying is that there’s less togetherness now, and fewer ways of connecting with others. Don’t be put off by the book’s hefty size: it’s a great read (and likely available at your local library!)
October 29, 2010 | Category: Long-term Loneliness, Social Isolation | 10 Comments »
Losing strangers?
I know, the concept of “losing strangers” might seem odd, especially if you feel as though you have few connections and are surrounded by people you don’t know. But I was intrigued by one of the responses to my last post. I talked about the critical role “casual” connection plays in our lives, and a reader wrote in to remind me of what sociologists call “the stranger in the train” phenomenon.
“The stranger in the train” idea works like this: you run into someone (on a plane, a train, or a bus), and you feel free to talk to them in a way that you couldn’t with your spouse or your friend, simply because you’re never going to see them again. You might, in some cases, share details of your life that you’ve never shared with anyone else — again, because the disclosure is “safe” and consequence free.
People have been writing about this phenomenon for decades, but I wonder if it’s on the wane. Is someone really a stranger if you can look them up on Facebook or MySpace? If you know even a few details about someone — Paul, sells furniture, Minnesota — you can find out quite a lot about them. And I wonder if this inadvertent familiarity doesn’t leave us more tight-lipped with each other. After all, if the stranger across from you on the train can be tracked down through a Google search, are you really prepared to tell them anything?
Many commentators have said that we don’t understand all the effects of social media, and I wonder if one of the effects is to deprive of us people we might otherwise reach out to. Yes, Facebook is good at keeping distant friends up-to-date with each other’s lives. But might it also be driving us a little further apart? Will people still be talking about the “stranger on the train” phenomenon thirty years from now? My sense is that they won’t — because we’ll have lost one more thing that previous generations used to take for granted.
October 13, 2010 | Category: Social Isolation | 10 Comments »
The kindness of strangers
It occurred to me, when Chester died, how prominently strangers have featured in my life over the past few weeks. It was my neighbor (who I barely know) who was there to help me with the death of my cat, and it was a complete stranger who stopped to talk to me (and reassure me) when I was having trouble making it up from the local cliffs.
There is so much obsession these days with close contact. These contacts can be very important, and no one should feel as though they have to live without them. But I think we forget sometimes how important casual, impromptu contact can be. We’re losing it — I now check my groceries out automatically, visit bank machines, and sometimes (though I try to resist it) get my coffee at the drive-through, where I can barely see the teller.
In doing these things, I’m not losing “support,” but I am losing contact. This loss of contact is happening to everyone, on a very large scale. We’re simply expected to get by without the casual exchanges people used to take for granted. (We’re also supposed to get by without critical interpersonal contact, but that’s a different story.) There’s a winnowing down of connection taking place, and I’m curious about why this is happening. I don’t think major social shifts happen for no reason, and I have my own notions about what’s taking place.
More to follow…my point here is just to underscore the key role strangers can play in our lives. They can help us feel more protected, more connected, more secure. In the midst of our society’s obsession with partners, commitment ceremonies, and BFFs, we need to appreciate the people we might not know too well: these are the people, I’ve learned, whose support might make all the difference.
September 29, 2010 | Category: Social Isolation | 13 Comments »
“How to be alone” video
I’m a bit slow in sending this out — many of you may have already seen this Canadian video on How To Be Alone. I don’t 100% agree that you can simply wind your way from loneliness to solitude, but You Tube is not the place for philosophical discussion. The video is nicely shot, and it’s fun to see someone dancing and dining out alone. Also, I like the birds — they remind me of my book cover!
September 2, 2010 | Category: Social Isolation | 3 Comments »
A lesson in human connection
My town is not famous for much, but it is famous for having a HUGE staircase running from pretty much sea level to the top of something that could fairly be described as a mountain. It’s really seven or eight linked staircases, with rocky gaps between each set of stairs.
I was out yesterday, hiking all over the cliffs. It was hot, and I was getting increasingly tired, but I was at the bottom of what could only be described as a “U”: no matter which direction I went in, I’d have to climb up out of the valley. So I chose the stairs.
This was a mistake. About half-way up, I was weak; sweat and sunscreen were spilling into my eyes. I thought, I am not going to make it. I had visions of being rescued by helicopter, or water dogs, or a team of police. These thoughts were mortifying, but I could…not…keep…climbing.
So I collapsed into a bunch of bushes beside the steps and sat there gasping for breath. What was I going to do? And then this very nice woman (who was also out of breath) stopped on the stairs to chat with me. I was down on the ground, looking like the dog’s breakfast, but she didn’t comment on this. She just began to talk about the hot day, and the cruelty of the steps, and how out of shape she was, and so on.
And as she talked I began to feel my heart rate slow down. I’ve read so much on human interaction and physiology, and I began to think, “I’m in a social psychology experiment!” The longer the woman talked, the better I felt. My breathing returned to normal, the sweat seemed to ebb, and it seemed as though my legs might actually begin to function again.
The woman moved on, and I let her go, but I found that the effect of our conversation was to give me the energy and reassurance I needed to continue climbing. The talk left me feeling less freaked out and exhausted–and this was just a casual chat with a stranger. But I think it was exactly what I needed right then–not just rest, but communication.
The episode made me think again of how awful and sick and anxious I was during the years I write about in Lonely, and about how social isolation might still be affecting me today. If that little episode on the steps taught me anything, it’s that the social interaction studies are right on target: we need people around us, and their presence or absence can affect us in profound ways.
August 26, 2010 | Category: Effects of Loneliness, Long-term Loneliness, Social Isolation | 11 Comments »
Reading, solitude, and reading “Solitude”
I’ve been toting around a very small book for about the past six years. It’s called “Solitude,” and it’s written by the British psychiatrist Anthony Storr. It’s probably the single best thing I’ve ever seen on the subject of solitude, creativity, and the importance of time spent alone.
I initially thought that I’d work Storr’s book into Lonely, but it never seemed to fit. And that’s because Solitude isn’t really about loneliness (though references to loneliness certainly do appear). It’s about being nourished by aloneness, about creative thinking, and about the personal flourishing that can occur despite the absence of social ties.
I don’t generally recommend books on this blog, because it’s a rare book that I think will appeal to the disparate readership this blog attracts. But I whole-heartedly recommend Solitude. (Note: in some countries, it’s called The School for Genius.) Reading Storr–as I just did, again, on this rainy morning–can take a lot of the pressure off of aloneness. It can remind you of some of the things you like about being alone, and it can reassure you that not everyone moves through life in the middle of a huge social circle.
The book won’t cure loneliness (no book does that, and don’t believe any book that tells you it will), but it makes for a fascinating read, and will help you to see aloneness in a completely new light.
August 18, 2010 | Category: Dealing with Loneliness, Loneliness and Creativity, Social Isolation | 6 Comments »
Study on social relationships and health
Well, the papers have been buzzing with news that relationships are good for your health, and that isolation is a risk factor equivalent to smoking.
I have to admit that I’m a bit mystified about all the fuss. The link between isolation and longevity has been understood since at least the late 1970s. Similarly, the risk factors attaching to loneliness (as well as the increased risk of mortality for the lonely) have been known for over a decade.
So why is this story getting blogged and buzzed and Twittered about? The risk factors haven’t changed. I think what has changed is our vulnerability to isolation. When the first studies of isolation and mortality came out in the late 70s, we weren’t so alone. It’s only today, with isolation on the rise, that a study such as this one is able to create such a bang.
If someone sees something I’m missing, please feel free to write and inform me. But there are whole textbooks written on this subject that’s being presented as “news.” Again, I think it’s our increased isolation that’s driving interest in this story, not the findings themselves.
July 30, 2010 | Category: Effects of Loneliness, Social Isolation | 3 Comments »
Casual sociability in the big city
Well, I picked a good time to travel from Newfoundland to Ontario: it’s about 100 degrees here, and I’m just stunned with heat. Aside from the heat (which is wild), I’m surprised by the number of people around. As I type, there are people walking down the street, and I have to dodge bikes when I’m off to the shops, and I can walk down a major road and see people sitting in cafes and restaurants.
There’s been an ongoing debate in the emails that have been sent to me about whether a city or a small town is a lonelier place. Both have their advantages and drawbacks. I like the solitude I have in Newfoundland, but I miss the ability to interact so easily — to brush shoulders with people, and listen to conversations in the fruit market, and watch people as they sip their drinks at patio tables.
Last night, I was feeling very much alone, and I said to myself, “Get out of the house. It doesn’t matter where you go. Just go.” And, voila, the streets were packed and I felt more cheerful, more included and connected. I’m not sure if this means that cities are less lonely than small towns — research on the subject shows that loneliness rates tend to remain stable from urban to rural environments.
I think what cities offer is sheer distraction. I know that distraction can become overwhelming, and that I’m enjoying the crowds on the sidewalks because I’m essentially a tourist. But bustle, when you’re feeling lonely, is nice. (I’ll write another post about whether the sight of friends at patio tables starts to cue envy — this hasn’t happened yet, but it’s still early days.)
July 7, 2010 | Category: Social Isolation | 7 Comments »
Loneliness and solitude
I was on Wisconsin Public Radio last week, doing a phone-in show, and several people called to ask if I was pathologizing aloneness. Surely, they said, there was nothing wrong with being alone?
And I couldn’t agree more. It’s a bit tricky, since the word “Solitude” is now stamped on my book jacket in both the US and Canada, but I see nothing at all wrong with solitude. Some people can enjoy years and years of solitude without ever feeling lonely. And I don’t think the boundaries between loneliness and solitude are made of stone. Loneliness might “break” at times, and start to feel like creative solitude, while the best bouts of solitude can run off the rails, and start to feel like a grinding loneliness.
I think the difference is subjective need. If you feel content alone, that’s great — that’s solitude, and it can be an immensely rewarding state. But if aloneness is laced with feelings of threat, envy, insufficiency, confusion, and anger, that’s not so great. That’s loneliness.
I, for one, can veer from loneliness to solitude and back again in the course of a day. In the years that I write about in Lonely, solitude was not a frequent visitor: it was loneliness that I was dealing with day after day. These days, my loneliness comes interspersed with feelings of quiet inspiration. And I would never want to give those feelings up; I’d never dream of saying that anything was wrong with them.
June 23, 2010 | Category: Loneliness and Creativity, Long-term Loneliness, Social Isolation | 5 Comments »