
What if I told you that one age group is more depressed, more anxious, and lonelier than any other in America?
You might assume I’m talking about teens. Mood disorders, self-harm, and suicide have become more common among adolescents in recent years; article after article reports that social media is toxic for teen girls especially, eroding their self-esteem and leaving them disconnected. Or you might think of older adults, often depicted in popular culture and news commentary as isolated and unhappy, their health declining and their friends dropping away.
So perhaps you’d be surprised to hear the results of a Harvard Graduate School of Education survey on mental health in America: Young adults are the ones most in crisis. Even Richard Weissbourd, who led the study in 2022, was taken aback. His team found that 36 percent of participants ages 18 to 25 reported experiencing anxiety and 29 percent reported experiencing depression—about double the proportion of 14-to-17-year-olds on each measure. More than half of young adults were worried about money, felt that the pressure to achieve hurt their mental health, and believed that their lives lacked meaning or purpose. Teenagers and senior citizens are actually the two populations with the lowest levels of anxiety and depression, Weissbourd’s research has found.
Other studies of young adults have similarly alarming findings. According to the CDC, in 2020, depression was most prevalent among 18-to-24-year-olds (and least prevalent among those 65 or older). A 2023 Gallup poll found that loneliness peaked at ages 18 to 29. And, according to one meta-analysis spanning four decades, more and more young adults reported loneliness each year. When Weissbourd repeated his survey last year, young-adult anxiety and depression had also risen, to 54 and 42 percent, respectively. Still, the struggles of young adults have gone widely unnoticed. When Weissbourd got his data, “it was really upsetting,” he told me. “What is going on here? And why aren’t we talking about it more?
The phase between adolescence and adulthood has long been daunting: You’re expected to figure out who you are, to create a life for yourself. That might sound exciting, as if all the doors are wide open, but much of the time it’s stressful—and modern challenges are making it harder. Young adults are more vulnerable than ever, but much of American society doesn’t see them that way.
One thing that gets Jennifer Tanner fired up is the myth that young adulthood is a carefree time. Many people see it as a perfect juncture, when you’re old enough to have agency but young enough to be free of big responsibilities. Commonly, though, it’s the inverse: You have new obligations but not the wisdom, support, or funds to handle them. Tanner is a developmental researcher studying “emerging adulthood,” typically defined as the years from age 18 to 29, and she thinks that many more established adults wish they could go back to that period and do things differently; in hindsight, it might seem like a golden age of possibility. “Everybody who’s 40 is like, I wish I was 18.” Meanwhile, young adults are “like, The world’s on my shoulders and I have no resources,” she told me. “We’re gaslighting the hell out of them all the time.”
Of course, being a teen isn’t easy either. Depression and anxiety are increasing among adolescents. But in high school, you’re more likely to have people keeping an eye on you, who’ll notice if you’re upset at home or if you don’t show up to school. Adults know that they should protect you, and they have some power to do it, Weissbourd said. After you graduate from high school or college, though, you might not have anyone watching over you. The friends you had in school may scatter to different places, and you may not be near your family. If you’re not regularly showing up to a workplace, either, you could largely disappear from the public eye. And if life is taking a toll, mental-health resources can be hard to come by, Tanner told me, because psychologists tend to specialize either in childhood and adolescence or adult services, which generally skew older.
As soon as you become independent, you’re expected to find housing, land a satisfying job, and connect with a community. But achieving those hallmarks of adulthood is getting harder. College tuition has skyrocketed, and many young people are saddled with student loans. With or without such debt, finding a place to live can feel impossible, given the current dearth of affordable housing. In 2022, a full half of renters spent more than 30 percent of their income on rent and utilities—a precarious situation when you haven’t yet built up savings. Under rising financial stress, finding fulfilling work can come second to paying the bills, Weissbourd explained. But that might mean missing out on a career that gives you a sense of self-worth and meaning. Jillian Stile, a clinical psychologist who works with young adults, told me that a lot of her clients are “feeling like a failure.”

On top of that, the social worlds that young people once occupied are crumbling. In the recent past, young adults were more likely to marry and have kids than they are today. They might have befriended other parents or co-workers, or both. Commonly, they’d belong to a religious congregation. Now they’re marrying and starting families later, if at all. Those with white-collar jobs are more likely to work remotely or to have colleagues who do, making it hard to find friends or mentors through work, Pamela Aronson, a sociologist at the University of Michigan at Dearborn, told me. Religious-participation rates have plunged. Americans in general are spending more time alone, and they have fewer public places to hang out and talk with strangers. For young adults who haven’t yet established social routines, the decline of in-person gatherings can be especially brutal. “Until you build those new systems around yourself that you contribute to, and they contribute back to your health and well-being,” Tanner told me, “you’re on shaky ground.”
Sources of companionship inevitably shift. Today, for example, more young people are getting support (emotional and financial) from parents; 45 percent of 18-to-29-year-olds live with their folks. But that can be isolating if you don’t also have friends nearby. Family bonds, no matter how wonderful, aren’t substitutes for a group of peers going through this sometimes-scary life phase at the same time.
Without a sense of belonging, the world can seem bleak. In Weissbourd’s study, 45 percent of young adults said they had a “sense that things are falling apart,” 42 percent said gun violence in schools was weighing on them, 34 percent said the same of climate change, and 30 percent reported worrying about political leaders being incompetent or corrupt. These issues don’t affect only young adults, but they might feel particularly grim if you can’t imagine what your life will look like in a decade. When it comes to “anxiety and depression,” Weissbourd told me, “it’s not only about your past—it’s about how you imagine your future.” And young adults? “They’re not hopeful.”
A rocky start to adulthood could cast a shadow over the rest of someone’s life. Aronson reminded me that, on average, Millennials have “less wealth than their predecessors at the same age—because their incomes were lower, because they started their jobs during a recession.” Gen Z spends a greater portion of its money on essentials than Millennials did at their age. That doesn’t bode well for Gen Z’s future finances. And there are other concerns: Maybe, if you can’t afford to pursue a rewarding job when you’re young, you’ll work your way up in a career you don’t care about—and end up feeling stuck. Perhaps if you don’t make genuine friends in young adulthood—commonly a time when people form long-lasting bonds—you’ll be lonelier in middle age. And if you lean exclusively on your parents, what will you do when they die?
Leaving individual young adults responsible for overcoming societal obstacles clearly isn’t working. “I don’t think we’re going to therapize or medicate our way out of this problem,” Weissbourd, a therapist himself, told me. He wants to see more “social infrastructure”: Libraries might arrange classes, volunteer opportunities, or crafting sessions that would be open to people of all ages but that could allow isolated young people to feel part of something. Doctors might ask young-adult patients about loneliness and offer resources to connect them with other people. Colleges could assign students an adviser for all four years and offer courses to guide students through the big questions about their place in the world. (Weissbourd teaches one at Harvard called “Becoming a Good Person and Leading a Good Life.”) Aronson suggested that workplaces should hold mentoring programs for young employees. And of course, student-loan-debt forgiveness, government support for higher education, affordable housing, and more extensive mental-health-care coverage wouldn’t hurt.
First, older adults need to acknowledge this crisis. Seeing young people as worthy of empathy means understanding today’s challenges, but it might also involve recalling one’s own youth as it really was—and finding compassion for one’s past self. While older adults may have regrets, they probably did their best with the perspective and resources they had. And they could stand to remind the young adults in their lives: Even flawed choices can lead to a life that, however imperfect, encompasses real moments of joy, accomplishment, and self-knowledge. If our culture romanticized that growth a little more and the golden glow of youth a little less, young adults might feel less alone in their distress. They might even look forward to finding out what’s next.
Original article here



We should probably pin down what we mean by loneliness, as opposed to solitude, aloneness, social isolation, disconnectedness etc. For Henry Rollins, the former Black Flag frontman turned writer, it’s something that “adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.” I’m going to file that under Poetic Nonsense. The Campaign to End Loneliness (CEL), more usefully, defines it as “a subjective, unwelcome feeling of lack or loss of companionship. It happens when there is a mismatch between the quantity and quality of the social relationships that we have, and those that we want.”
Not only do animals provide us with unconditional love and support; they also help to give structure to our days and even encourage us to get out and connect with others. Interaction with pets is also shown to help reduce stress levels.
If there’s one thing we as humans seem to have in common, it’s that most of us have felt lonely at one time or another. But is the pain that comes with feeling socially isolated simply a part of being human? Why does the world seem so different when we’re feeling lonely?
However, given the design of the study, it’s unclear whether the findings suggest loneliness causes this way of thinking or if considering fictional characters in this way causes people to feel lonely. And there’s always the possibility that a third factor causes both outcomes.
“The core features of social anxiety were not evident in loneliness,” Lieberz said. Those results suggest, she said, that treating loneliness simply by telling lonely people to go out and socialize more (the way you can treat a phobia of snakes with exposure) will often not work because it fails to address the root cause of the loneliness. In fact, a recent meta-analysis confirmed that simply providing lonely people with easier access to potential friends has no effect on subjective loneliness.
Bzdok and his team showed that some regions of the default network are not only larger in chronically lonely people but also more strongly connected to other parts of the brain. Moreover, the default network seems to be involved in many of the distinctive abilities that have evolved in humans — such as language, anticipating the future and causal reasoning. More generally, the default network activates when we think about other people, including when we interpret their intentions.
Primate studies and the results of the Neumayer III polar station experiment show that experience and social environment can exert a powerful influence on the structure of an individual’s brain, hard-wiring the changes that loneliness can cause. On the other hand, studies of twins have shown that loneliness is partly heritable: Almost 50% of the variation in individuals’ feelings of loneliness can be explained by genetic differences.
As luck would have it, the puppy and his person are exiting the ballfield just as I am (very slowly) walking by the gate.
“You remember me?” I exclaim, moving in closer so Tree and I can be heart-to-heart. “How do you do it?” I ask. “How do you stand everything that’s going on?”
And then another. And another. And another. Soon, I have a whole big pile of weed-parts.
“Can I say hello to your puppies?” I ask, crouching down to doggie-reception level. Before either their mom or dad can say yes, I’m ready to receive sloppy kisses.
Have you ever gotten into bed at the end of the day and realised that you haven’t spoken out loud to anyone since the day before? Or simply found yourself feeling completely and utterly alone?
“Those who are emotionally lonely will find it difficult to improve things without tackling the root of the problem,” says Dr. Spelman. “Emotional loneliness is not circumstantial but, rather, comes from within.”
But situational loneliness doesn’t just arise in those who relocate alone, as social media editor Sarah discovered when she moved countries with her partner. Sarah left her Sydney home in March 2017 to join her partner in London, where he had arrived a month earlier to start a new job and find the pair a home to live in — although she admits that “didn’t mean it was smooth sailing”.
“It was a really bewildering, lonely time,” she says. “The jump of being plonked into a huge arts school, in just one of hundreds of halls of residence in a sprawling city I didn’t understand, made me retreat into myself and I struggled to make friends in the face of it all.
Don Giovanni – the protagonist of Mozart’s opera Don Giovanni (1787), a legendary seducer who is also sometimes known as Don Juan – is, Kierkegaard suggested, the ultimate archetype of the aesthetic mode because he lives for immediate sexual gratification and sensuality. Don Giovanni is a player. He is handsome, seductive and exciting. Women find him irresistible: he has slept with more than 2,000 women whose names he records in his not-so-little black book. Don Giovanni seeks pleasure above all else, and dances through his hedonistic life.
Kierkegaard’s leap was guided by the commandment to ‘love thy neighbour’. In Works of Love(1847), written under Kierkegaard’s real name, he proposes that universal love, or agapē, is the secret to happiness because it overcomes the fleetingness and insecurity of aesthetic and ethical relationships. Love is Ariadne’s thread of life because, as long as you love, as long as you commit yourself to being a loving person, you’ll be safe from being hurt and alone. Kierkegaard thought that this sort of unwavering faith reflects a supremely developed human being.