A (Solvable) Epidemic of Loneliness
In the first chapter of my book, Strong Towns: A Bottom-Up Revolution to Rebuild American Prosperity, I attempt to make the case that humans evolved their own habitat over thousands of years, responding to complex feedback loops that harmonized many competing objectives. These places weren’t perfect, but they contained a “spooky wisdom” that shaped us to be fully human.
In the Suburban Experiment—the radical shift in development approach we implemented from the top-down, as part of a kinetic growth strategy fully adopted after World War II—the feedback loops that gave our habitat such complex responses were broken. An abundance of resources allowed Americans to respond to stress in ways that were merely complicated.
From page 13:
The underlying assumption of the American development pattern is an abundance of resources. When this was essentially true in the decades immediately after World War II, our cities functioned in ways that were complicated, but not complex. We could… act “cleverly or stupidly, and yet still end up with an embarrassment of riches.” And we did.
Have a crime problem? Just hire more police. There’s no real incentive to design homes to face the street, to have front porches and windows that open onto the common space, to provide a base level of self-policing in a neighborhood. That would require a sacrifice of some privacy. It would force people to work cooperatively, to learn to rely on their neighbors. We have the resources, so just hire some more officers.
Have a traffic congestion problem? Just build more lanes. There is no incentive to minimize auto trips, to create neighborhoods where people can walk or bike for most of their daily needs. That would involve changing zoning codes, allowing people to start businesses in neighborhoods where they are currently prohibited, and maybe even increasing the cost of driving during peak times. We have the money, so just build more capacity.
Of course, there are many deeper and more complex problems we face as humans than crime and traffic congestion. As the negative effects of this experiment compound, one of the challenges that seems to be shifting from chronic to acute is loneliness, especially among the elderly. I recently came across a 2017 article (”These Charts Show Who You’ll Spend Your Time with Across your Lifetime”) with a chart I found utterly depressing. Notice how many hours per day someone over 65 is spending utterly alone.
Many of you know that I have a teenage daughter (next month, both of our daughters will teenagers—please pray for my wife and me). There are times when, regardless of how patient or loving my wife and I are (and we’re human so we fall short of the ideal), we’re not the right people to reach my teenager. Last week was one of those times.
Fortunately, I was able to call on a grandmother who was happy to stop by, take her with while she was volunteering, then spend some time together over lunch and a shopping/browsing excursion. I’m the dad here and, as a quick learner, did not pry into what the conversation was between them. Both of them independently expressed gratitude to me over the time spent together and there were certainly positive changes in disposition from the teen after having grandma’s understanding and reassurance.
That’s about as positive an outcome as is possible, but to make it happen I had to call my parents, discuss it with them, arrange a time, and then coordinate that with my wife and daughter. I’m fortunate to be in a position to do that, but it took intention. How much better off would both of my daughters be in life if interactions with grandparents and other trusted elderly people in our community were easier, even something that just happened passively as part of a routine day?
Well, that is what life was like for humans for literally thousands of years, and still is for most around the world. As social psychologist Jonathan Haidt has said, we’re programmed with a groupish overlay. We’re designed to be with others, not to spend hours alone, particularly at those last decades of life when we can do so much for others.
We won’t repair our habitat overnight, but there are huge incentives to work at it, and not just the financial kind that we routinely discuss here. We’ve been partnering with the AARP on their Livable Communities initiative as part of their Age-Friendly Network. They have a wealth of resources that can help us reduce those loneliness trends, to the benefit of all.
In Chapter 10 of my book, I describe walking to my grandmother’s house for lunch when I was in elementary school. Here’s a brief quote from page 213:
Grandma would feed me pizza, my favorite. For dessert, it was Twinkies—a coveted treat my practical mother would never buy—except at Christmas time, when she’d fill me full of Krumkake and Rosettes, two Norwegian cookies. Then we would just sit and talk.
I grew up thinking that was a beautiful experience for me, that she was doing something kind for me because she loved me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize how this enriched her soul as well. That we could all have opportunities to find such blessings in each other, at all ages in life.
Charles Marohn—known as “Chuck” to friends and colleagues—is the founder and president of Strong Towns. He is a land use planner and civil engineer with decades of experience. He holds a bachelor’s degree in civil engineering and a Master of Urban and Regional Planning, both from the University of Minnesota.
Marohn is the author of Strong Towns: A Bottom-Up Revolution to Rebuild American Prosperity (Wiley, 2019) and Confessions of a Recovering Engineer: Transportation for a Strong Town (Wiley 2021). He hosts the Strong Towns Podcast and is a primary writer for Strong Towns’ web content. He has presented Strong Towns concepts in hundreds of cities and towns across North America.