We are in search of home, but our progressive march requires us to sever ourselves from not only the obligations of home but also from the ethos of home.
By Carrie Gress and Noelle Mering
We are in search of home, but our progressive march requires us to sever ourselves from not only the obligations of home but also from the ethos of home.
Various metrics confirm that, over the last 30 years there has been a sharp increase in loneliness. Almost one in four Americans (most under the age of 50) feel isolated, many with no person in whom to confide, according to a 2018 study from the Kaiser Family Foundation in partnership with The Economist. Last year in the U.K., the prime minister appointed a “minister for loneliness” in an effort to draw attention to what increasingly is seen as a societal epidemic contributing to depression and other health risks, mental and physical.
While superficially we’re more connected than ever through social-media platforms, such connectivity often serves merely to reinforce our isolation by setting a stage for a pantomime of relationship that bears closer resemblance to performer and audience member than it does to friend, lover, beloved — all of which demand vulnerability and being known.
But this loneliness trend predates social media. Robert Putnam’s book Bowling Alone: Examining Our Increasing Trend of Isolation was based on an essay that was published in 1995, when an already alarming number of people were reporting feelings of loneliness. Modern isolation is distinct from solitude, the latter being more like a conscious and positive retreat from distraction. Isolation is more of an omission, a deprivation of what ought to be.