I regret to inform you that institutions are necessary
Would you attend a U.S. Surgeon General potluck?
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I’ve written a few times in the past about loneliness and the fact that U.S. Surgeon General Vivek H. Murthy has declared an “epidemic” concerning the issue. Increasing levels of isolation are one of the things that prompted me to start writing this blog, so I’m appreciative that Murthy has made this one of his banner issues.
But I had to chuckle when I read last month about Murthy’s actual plan to combat loneliness. Detailed in a New York Times article, Murthy’s “Project Gather” posits “that eating with others can bring joy, build interpersonal connections, and ultimately help solve the loneliness epidemic in the U.S.” The project specifically features a handbook that includes “recipes for connection” — or basically suggestions for hosting get-togethers.
To kick off the project, Murthy1 attended a potluck in Washington, D.C., that is apparently a kind of model for what others might do. And next year, the project will expand to include “nationwide events like outdoor neighborhood dinners.”
So look, it’s obvious that eating together builds connections. Anyone who has ever had a meal with another person — so, everyone — knows this. Telling people to break bread together is a lovely idea and Murthy’s impulse, at least, seems to be right.
But would you attend a potluck organized by the U.S. Surgeon General? Is a coterie of elites getting together in Washington, D.C., for dinner actually a useful model for people struggling with loneliness? Just thinking practically, is the federal government nimble enough to obtain things like local street closure permits, or to reserve and pick up half a dozen porta potties?
I don’t raise these questions to pooh-pooh the idea of eating together. My point is that I just can’t imagine anyone actually attending these kinds of gatherings. Murthy’s handbook offers suggestions for hosting, but I suspect the only people who might find that useful are people who already host their existing friends. The New York Times mentions “friendsgivings” as an example of what people might do. But friendsgivings only work for people who have a bunch of friends. I struggle to see how the Surgeon General, of all people, is going to initiate friendsgivings for friend-less Americans.
At this point, the issue is probably academic because Trump plans to replace Murthy next year. But the episode nevertheless highlights the tragicomedy of trying to foster connection in a world that lacks actual institutions. Potlucks and other such gatherings are a staple of churches, neighborhood councils, Boy Scout troops and so on. So, formal institutions with organizing capabilities. But such institutions are waning; both Murthy’s office and Pew reported last year that faith in institutions is near an all-time low, with researchers meanwhile tracking a rise in isolation. Telling people to simply step up and fill the void seems like an entirely unserious solution to a very serious problem2. At best, trying to foster social connections in a post-institution world is an ongoing experiment that we’re watching unfold right now. In reality, though, we already know how that experiment is turning out because, well, there’s a loneliness epidemic.
Reading about the Surgeon General’s plan to combat loneliness reminded me of my own experiences trying to make connections. I’ve written about this several times before, but for the newcomers, in 2014 my wife and I moved to Los Angeles when I took a new job at BuzzFeed News. I didn’t know anyone but wanted friends, so I aggressively went out and did stuff. I attended art openings and comedy shows and concerts and all sorts of other stuff I found interesting. I tried to be a repeat attendee when possible, with the idea that I might meet people and make connections. It was actually a lot of fun, but in the end I didn’t make any friends. Almost my entire social circle in Los Angeles ended up coalescing around people I knew from earlier chapters in my life such as high school and college.
I think this experience — which I believe is relatively common among people who move to entirely new places well into adulthood — illustrates the difficulty of trying to build a social life without any institutional foundation. I could flit from event to event all I wanted, but I was never actually a member of anything. I wasn’t part of a group. I took on no mutual obligations or responsibilities. I gave nothing, except the occasional cover charge, and so I got nothing in return.
At the time, this was somewhat baffling to me, but it shouldn’t have been. As a teenager I was religious, a Boy Scout, a member of various school organizations, and so on. That type of public engagement continued through college, and unsurprisingly I had robust social networks throughout those periods of my life. I’m sure that’s in part because it is easier to meet and connect with people when you’re young (and single). But it shouldn’t have been a shock that someone who eventually lets their world narrow mostly to work is going to have a hard time building a big social network. In the end, I explicitly thought of myself during this period of my life as “not much of a joiner.” And well, you reap what you sow.
The details of my experience are unique, but I think the broader strokes capture a problem with would-be solutions to the loneliness epidemic, including Murthy’s. Sure it’s great to have a meal with people, but the Surgeon General’s handbook is never so bold as to tell people to, for instance, go become a scout troop leader. It never suggests coaching little league. It never tells people to go to church. I recently interviewed a guy for my job who, when his kids were in school, organized a walking club for dads. All those dads’ kids are now grown up, but the club is still going. No one is saying, “if you want to have a potluck, first you must organize a club.” Few are apparently willing to concede that in order to connect with people, you have to join them. You must, in fact, be a joiner.
Researchers have come to similar conclusions about the benefits of joining, particularly when it comes to religion. Against a backdrop of declining adolescent mental health, a 2018 paper found for example that religious participation had positive impacts on youth well-being. Churchy teens are also less plagued by depression, and less likely to engage in risky behaviors such as drug abuse. Columbia University Psychologist Lisa Miller has further noted that religion helps youth foster connection and avoid isolation. And New York University researcher (and After Babel editor) Zach Rausch recently wrote that,
Teens without a religious affiliation across the political spectrum started reporting that they felt lonely, worthless, anxious, and depressed at much higher rates starting in the early 2010s. However, religious teens, especially those who report being more conservative, did not.
This is the reason I find Murthy’s answer unserious. It fails to grapple with the atomization that leads to loneliness in the first place. We know the things that make people feel less isolated because there’s a lot of research on this topic, and those things are institutions. But becoming an actual member of something, or reenergizing the organizations of which people can be a part, is not Murthy’s plan. There is very little joining going on.
As a person who in adulthood has tended to not be a joiner, I can certainly understand. I have not, for example, tended to regularly attend church over the years for a variety of reasons that basically boil down to not enjoying it. Who wants to listen to a boring sermon about how you need to repent? Other institutions — social clubs, etc. — are largely absent in my world.
Which is to say, I understand why people chafe at the idea of participating in institutions. I understand it quite well, because I have been one of those people. One of the joys of being a grown up is that you can do whatever you want.
The problem is that we’re seeing the fruits of that attitude at scale, and for a lot of people it just doesn’t work. Isolation is rampant. Solutions like Murthy’s try to let people have their cake (literally and figuratively) and eat it too by proposing gatherings without all the pesky constraints that come with actual, organized institutions. But in doing so they fail to recognize that the pesky parts are actually the main parts. A need to repent might keep you coming back to church. Cleaning dishes after a potluck isn’t exactly fun, but it’s something you might do for an organization of which you are a member, or for an institution you believe in and which needs you. And in any case, it’s probably during those moments of drudgery — setting up chairs, mopping the floor, etc. — that you’re likely to actually meet people.
Perhaps I’m wrong, but when I look at many proposals to combat isolation they seem like recipes for potlucking alone. I’ve done that, and it didn’t work for me. Now, I’m making a more concerted effort — perhaps contra my nature as a curmudgeon — to be more of a joiner. I guess we’ll see how that works out.
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I criticize Murthy’s plan throughout this blog post, but I think he deserves credit for making loneliness a mainstream issue and also especially for writing frankly about his own experiences. I don’t know much about Murthy’s personal life, but his professional efforts make me think he’s a decent person, perhaps with an impossible task.
A cynic might argue that the practical beneficiaries of this anti-loneliness crusade are the private companies and individuals — the Times article mentions a couple — that will get government contracts.
I find it extraordinarily hard to make new friends as a married dad. I am making some new friendships at church through my work as the treasurer. It’s a bit ironic because as a gay teen the church wasn’t a safe welcoming space for me.
This topic is constantly on my mind, for the reasons you've outlined here.
I wonder: Is possible to create or find new institutions that genuinely appeal to people in the 21st century, or is the only option to return to traditional institutions (in America: Christianity)? If it's the latter, what's a person supposed to do if they no longer believe the central tenets of Christianity? I sense that most people *want* to feel a sense of belonging, but being forced to ascribe to worldview from the 1st century AD is increasingly a dealbreaker in the age of online information. Maybe the Nordic countries offer some notion of a way forward here, as they seem(?) to have a sense of belonging while not ascribing to a traditional Christian worldview?