My Loneliness is Killing Me, Literally.
The loneliness epidemic is becoming a health crisis.
In her Scientific American article, Kim Samuel argues that loneliness is more than just a personal or emotional burden—it's a public health crisis and a political threat.
Drawing from a wide range of scientific studies, historical insights, and social trends, she makes the case that chronic isolation harms not only the individual body but also the collective fabric of society.
“Loneliness can be as damaging to our health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.”
“Social connection is a fundamental human need,” Samuel writes, “and loneliness—a feeling of being unseen or unheard—can be as damaging to our health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.” This isn’t just metaphor. The physiological toll of loneliness includes chronic inflammation, heightened stress hormones, and weakened immunity, making the isolated body more susceptible to illness and early death.
Samuel traces part of this understanding to the pioneering work of psychologists Louise Hawkley and the late John Cacioppo at the University of Chicago. Their research revealed that loneliness activates the body’s fight-or-flight response. This state of hypervigilance leads to elevated cortisol levels and inflammation, which in turn compromises cardiovascular and immune health.
“Lonely individuals are constantly scanning for threats,” Samuel notes, and this state of constant alert doesn’t just exhaust the nervous system—it can erode mental well-being. Moreover, the effects of loneliness tend to spiral: as the brain interprets the world as more threatening, it pushes people further into isolation, which amplifies physical and psychological stress. In other words, loneliness creates a self-perpetuating cycle of damage.
But Samuel’s concern goes beyond biology—she connects the rise of loneliness to a breakdown in civic trust and social cohesion. Referencing political theorist Hannah Arendt, she warns that loneliness can make societies more vulnerable to authoritarianism. Arendt famously wrote, “What prepares men for totalitarian domination… is the fact that loneliness… has become an everyday experience.”
When people feel invisible or disconnected, they become easier to manipulate and more likely to seek out simplistic, often extreme ideologies that promise belonging. Samuel argues that this erosion of connection helps explain the global rise in political polarization, conspiracy theories, and far-right movements.
Loneliness, it turns out, doesn’t just harm bodies—it destabilizes democracies.
Between 2003 and 2022, face-to-face socializing declined by 30% for American men and by 45% for teenagers. Meanwhile, the number of Americans reporting they have no close friends has quadrupled since 1990. These trends have emerged alongside a steep rise in anxiety, depression, and social alienation. Samuel suggests that the spread of digital technologies, the gig economy, urban alienation, and rising income inequality have all contributed to this collapse of connection. “We live in a society that promotes hyper-individualism,” she writes, “but humans were never meant to live in isolation.” The result is a nation of people who are simultaneously wired into the internet and starved for real, meaningful interaction.
“To repair our society we must remember how to care for one another.”
In closing, Samuel calls for a cultural and political reckoning with loneliness. This means recognizing it not only as a mental health issue but also as a threat to democracy and social well-being.
She advocates for rebuilding the "infrastructure of belonging"—spaces and systems that encourage connection, mutual care, and civic engagement. Schools, workplaces, community centers, and even urban planning should be redesigned to foster togetherness.
“To repair our society,” she writes, “we must remember how to care for one another.” In a world increasingly divided by fear and disconnection, Samuel’s piece offers a compelling reminder that healing starts not just with medicine or policy—but with human presence, compassion, and touch.
