The loneliest Americans are the ones who can't make rent

An epidemic of bad data

Most social engagements cost money, so an inability to make ends meet is a strong predictor of loneliness.

In my career as a loneliness researcher, I’ve performed the same bit with pretty much every captive audience I’ve had access to. I ask one question: “What do you think is the loneliest demographic?” I prompt them: “Put your hands up for young people.” No hands go up. “Put your hands up for middle-aged people.” A smattering of hands goes up. “Old people?” The missing majority appears. “OK, now what about gender: women?” Almost no hands go up. “Men?” Almost all hands raise. Then with a grin, I tell them: “You’re all wrong.”

Whether I’m doing this at a house party or a psychology conference, the results are the same. Almost everyone believes old men are the loneliest group — they’ve heard about this, they’ve seen it for themselves, they know it in their bones.

For any readers of The Argument, though, that bit has been ruined for me by Lakshya Jain’s excellent work showing that the loneliest demographic is, in fact, young women. He’s not the first to find this — it’s been clear for years that, when asked directly, women, especially under 30, tend to report higher levels of loneliness than anyone else.

The disconnect between the findings and the cultural conversation is enormous. A cascade of op-eds from respectable writers at respectable outlets proclaim a male loneliness epidemic. What, are they just making it up?

Of course not. But they are drawing the wrong conclusions from bad data and fitting everything into a clicky gender-war narrative. The truth is that while they’re looking at real data, the rest of the literature tells a different story: It says that instead of gender, we should really be talking about money.

The bad data at the heart of the male loneliness epidemic panic

Whether you realize it or not, you have heard about the American Perspectives Survey, because it’s been cited in just about every single op-ed on male loneliness I can find.

Its headline finding was that since 1990, friendships have collapsed, with most of that collapse happening with men. The percentage of men without any close friends jumped from 3% to 15%, and men with at least six close friends fell by half. However you split the data, the numbers were alarming.

This bit of research established two key points that have anchored the loneliness discourse ever since: First, that social disconnectedness is skyrocketing. And second, that this is predominantly a male problem.

The American Perspectives Survey data is certainly scary, and it seems to have been the major driver of the widespread belief in an aggressive surge in loneliness. The problem is it’s wrong.