The Loneliness And Convenience Dance

This is where we find ourselves.

Have spilled much digital ink over the years on loneliness, including this rather long read, in part because it’s often been a defining feature of my own life. I was an only child and spent several youth brackets without friends, so I often had to walk around Central Park (I am indeed a “New York lonely boy,” if you’re familiar with that term) with a Walkman or my thoughts. As I’ve “grown up” (loosely), I think more and more that maybe the loneliness epidemic is self-inflicted, and a lot of people choose insularity. Obviously that idea varies by person.

At the same time, I have long been fascinated by this interplay of convenience and loneliness. A lot of Americans seek convenience — it’s one of the only ways to sell yourself a narrative that you’re “doing well,” because the narrative of “having lots of money” is distant for so many — to the extent that our pursuit of convenience may cause our species’ sixth mass extinction event. (Let’s avoid that harsh reality for now.)

We used to have some church friends who moved to a new, affluent neighborhood. About a year into living there, with a relative newborn still, they lamented not having any on-street, neighbor friends. I shit you not that every time you went to their house, there were five or six Amazon boxes on the porch. One time, it was literally sugar and some other baking supplies, which is like, um, the quintessential thing you would ask a neighbor for. Nope. ZON ME, BABY!

I thought there was an interplay between that pursuit of “friction-less experiences” (bullshit tech term) and their loneliness. Most people would look at it and default to the standard narrative of “relative newborn” (that’s why I slipped that nugget in), because the general idea is you have a newborn, you lose your social life. (Some people manage this better than others, but I’d argue most people take that trade-off.)

Now, my ex-wife used to be obsessed with Harvard economist Roland Fryer (weird obsession, perhaps, but whatever), and now he’s making the rounds saying this very thing:

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The easiest thing on this is probably the gym discussion. You have two options, let’s say:

1. Work out at home / Peloton / buy a squat rack at a yard sale (my friends did that literally last weekend).
2. Go to the gym.

The gym is a “friction” experience. You have to get there, get dressed, go workout, barter with people for space, tolerate the girl filming herself in the free weights area, etc. But it’s “good friction” because maybe you meet people, find friends, find some gym bros, whatever. Then compare that to “bad friction,” like sitting on a flight for two hours while they keep doing maintenance checks. Now you’re just pissed, and probably not “finding community” in that moment. (Sometimes you do make friends during shitty travel experiences, tho. I have done it, but only once or twice.)

Convenience — how so much shit is literally one click away — causes us to run from friction, but sometimes friction is good. Now think of, say, a call center. Oftentimes, you’d rather speak to a person about an issue, even if the person involves some friction in the experience. When my dad died, and I had to do all these “survivor benefits” calls for my mom, some were downright awful to go through — but hell, I’d rather the human than the bot.

But some of us chase the convenience and comfort side, and that removes us from the connection side.

So has the “on-demand economy” scaled loneliness? It’s probably a bridge too far to claim that’s the main thing, but I mean, it’s one thing — and it’s definitely food for thought.