When I sat down to write about what “loneliness” is, I knew what I wanted to say based on research – but out of curiosity, I decided to consult the dictionary. (Yes, I know that every bad bridesmaid speech and college essay starts with “Merriam-Webster defines…” but I promise this is going somewhere.)
Merriam-Webster defines “lonely” as “being without company,” “cut off from others,” “not frequented by human beings,” “sad from being alone,” and “producing a feeling of bleakness or desolation.” The top synonyms are lone, alone, solitary, solo, and single.
Together, these describe the objective experience of being without other people and the feelings associated with that experience. It makes sense – we often use “being lonely” interchangeably with “being alone.”
But are these the same thing?
According to both scholars and 18-year-old me after getting dumped at a high school graduation party surrounded by all my friends: no. You can be lonely without being alone, and you can be alone without being lonely.
Loneliness, as Daniel Perlman and Letitia Anne Peplau explain, is a negative feeling that comes from a perceived deficiency in the quality or quantity of a person’s social relations. It’s the horrible feeling you get when you aren’t getting what you need from your social relationships – or when there’s a difference between what you want or need your social relations to be, and what they actually are.
Here, quality isn’t necessarily related to quantity. In fact, according to John Cacioppo and William Patrick, “on average, at least among young adults, those who feel lonely actually spend no more time alone than do those who feel more connected.” (13)
Back to my graduation party example (because what better way to learn than through high school stories from the 2000s):
We were a couple weeks away from graduation, and my high school was throwing a party called “Project Grad,” where seniors get locked in the high school for a night of school-sponsored ice cream sundaes and magic shows. As a shy kid who newly had a boyfriend and never got invited to parties, I was super excited for a night of memories and bonding with my partner, my friends, and my classmates. Expectations were high.
So when this boyfriend broke up with me right as Project Grad was about to start, I felt deeply lonely, even though I was at an event surrounded by great friends. In that moment, being around partiers swaying arm-in-arm to Vitamin C’s “Graduation” didn’t make me feel better – if anything, it made my loneliness worse. I wasn’t happy like everyone else, so I felt left out, and all the friends in the world didn’t erase the loss of a romantic relationship. All I wanted that night was to be alone.
We’ve all been in situations like this (though hopefully with less popped collars and low-rise jeans): surrounded by other people but feeling all alone. Or, having a great partner but missing friendships, or great friendships but feeling disconnected from family – or having all of these relationships, but feeling like you just aren’t getting what you need from them.
On the other hand, we’ve all experienced how being alone can actually be great! Getting some peace and quiet at the end of a long day, listening to music, taking a walk, meditating, reading a book, catching up on shows, or taking a long drive.
So why does this matter? Why bother unpacking how “lonely” and “alone” aren’t the same? And why drag poor Merriam-Webster into this?
Because understanding the distinction between “lonely” and “alone” affects how we approach the solution.
Addressing the loneliness epidemic means that we have to help people build social connections that fulfill their needs – not just make sure people are physically around other people. This means giving people the time, resources, and knowledge to have a socially fulfilling life in a way that is safe and meaningful for them. For example:
Higher wages and ample paid time off make it easier for people to travel to see loved ones, have fun together outside of work, and go to places or events where they might meet new people.
Remote and hybrid work options give people the flexibility to decide where to build social connections. For some, connecting in the office is a great way to make friends and build community. For others, getting back their hour commute and devoting that to unwinding with family or neighbors is more conducive to social wellbeing.
Educating people on how to use social media to safely and meaningfully connect can expand their options for finding these meaningful connections. This is especially important when the people we need the most aren’t necessarily those who are physically around us. (I know, this last one is a loaded topic: more on this and the rest in upcoming essays!)
Of course, some amount of loneliness in life is inevitable (there’s no policy change that could have kept my teenage relationship intact, and my adult self is grateful for that). But the broad policy examples I offer here are just a few of the many things we can do to make meaningful social connection easier, so the losses we suffer throughout may land more gently.