The ‘loneliness epidemic’ is apparently spreading around the world, but what does it look like here in New Zealand? Rachel Judkins reports.

It’s a beautiful summer evening in Cornwall Park, with families scattered on the grass and a live band playing a backing track to their laughter. Sprawled on a picnic blanket with her young son, 46-year-old Florence* is trying to soak up the good vibes, but she can’t help feeling a heaviness. She loves doing these fun activities with her boy, but raising him alone is hard work and she craves adult company and longs to be part of a family unit again. Despite being surrounded by people, Florence is feeling lonely. 

Ironically, she isn’t alone in her loneliness. 

In 2023, a survey by global analytics firm Gallup revealed that 1 in 5 people worldwide said they felt lonely “a lot” during the previous day. In this study, Aotearoa was doing better than our allies Canada, US and the UK; on par with our neighbours Australia; but feeling lonelier than countries like Japan, Finland and Kazakhstan. But no matter where you go on this planet, loneliness is an issue.

Relationships and whanaungatanga provide humans with a sense of belonging, and because we are wired for connection, prolonged loneliness can have a profound effect on our physical and mental wellbeing. The World Health Organisation has declared loneliness to be a pressing global health threat, and the US surgeon general has been quoted in international headlines comparing the mortality risks from loneliness to smoking 15 cigarettes a day. 

While loneliness is not a new experience for humanity, the issue has been thrust into the spotlight care of the Covid-19 pandemic, and the forced social isolation that came with it. 

According to the 2020 survey carried out by the Helen Clark Foundation during New Zealand’s first level four lockdown, the rate of loneliness increased significantly across the total population. Young people were hit especially hard – before the pandemic, 5.8% felt lonely “most or all of the time”. During lockdown, that number soared to 20.8%. But these increases were only a temporary spike, with the follow up survey a year later showing that loneliness across the population had almost returned to the pre-pandemic baseline.

Anecdotally there is an understanding that societal shifts such as increased use of technology, urbanisation and changes in community and family structures have rendered us feeling lonelier, but there is a lack of solid data to support the notion that loneliness is trending upwards. What definitely has occurred though is a greater awareness of the importance of the issue and the need for individuals and societies as a whole to work together to combat it.

In her 2020 report Alone Together, researcher Holly Walker defined loneliness as “the painful feeling that occurs when one’s need for meaningful connection are unmet”. The key here is the disconnect between what level of social activity and/or meaningful relationships a person wants, and what they are getting.

Cathy Comber, CEO of Loneliness New Zealand (who recently completed a masters in counselling and loneliness), says that some people need to be more connected than others and that it is important to differentiate social isolation from loneliness. “Just because someone is alone doesn’t mean that they are suffering,” she says. “In fact many people may prefer their own company over that of a crowd and choose to live alone or spend the majority of their time alone.” Scientists studying loneliness in primates don’t look for the monkey playing contentedly by himself, but look for the one that hesitantly approaches the crowd and then withdraws instead. 

If feelings of loneliness generally wax and wane or can be associated with a temporary situation (such as a nationwide lockdown), there is usually no cause for concern, but if the feeling is deep and ongoing then it can develop into serious distress. According to a recent study published in Science Direct, loneliness and social isolation are associated with an approximately five-fold increase in risk of mortality from suicide, which is something worth paying attention to given New Zealand’s high suicide rates.

In the latest New Zealand Wellbeing Statistics, 44% of the population reported feeling lonely some time during the previous four weeks. While this is a large chunk of the population, loneliness in small doses can actually be a good thing. Comber points out that the ache of loneliness has parallels with the pain associated with hunger – just like hunger pangs remind us to eat, feelings of loneliness encourage us to seek out company. “We need people,” she says. “Apart from Bear Grylls, most of us do not survive on our own. The loneliness evolutionary driver helps us recognise that we do need to keep connected.” 

In that case, the more illuminating figure from the wellbeing data is that 4% of our population felt lonely “most or all of the time” in the previous four weeks. While this may seem a relatively small number, that’s 208,000 New Zealanders who are consistently feeling lonely and therefore more at risk.

Loneliness and vulnerability go hand in hand. The demographics most likely to experience chronic loneliness are already New Zealand’s most vulnerable citizens, including disabled people, LGBTQ+, unemployed or low income people, single parents and Māori. Young people (aged 15-24) are far more likely to feel persistent loneliness than their older neighbours. 

Josh* is a 19-year-old university student who lives at home with his parents. During the semester he is busy with lectures, labs and his part time job as a swim coach, but it is during the extended summer holidays where there is no structure or regular interactions with his peers that he finds the loneliness really creeps in. “There’s this inexplicable feeling of hurt in my heart, and my stomach feels really uncomfortable,” he explains. “It’s not the level that I want to throw up, but my heart feels heavy and I kinda wanna cry.”

Loneliness is more common during times of transition, and this period of great change in a young person’s life where they may begin tertiary study, move out of home or start a new job, can be particularly fraught. Young people feeling lonely is nothing new, though. Previous generations both here and internationally felt similar levels of loneliness in their youth, so this feeling is more a symptom of that age and stage than any kind of modern affliction.

The high incidence of loneliness in young people is often attributed to social media, since they have grown up with it as the norm for daily interactions. “I think social media is 100% a catalyst for people feeling lonely,” says Josh. “I will be going about my day normally and then if I were to go on Instagram I would see someone’s story of them having a really big group gathering. It makes me think I’m not part of the cool kids so it makes me feel kinda lonely.”

On the one hand, Josh doesn’t get together with his “homies” as much as he would like, playing video games online with them more often than getting together for his ideal meet up of BBQ and beers, but on the other, he credits the internet with widening his social circle. “I think that almost every single one of my friends nowadays I met on social media first and then we hung out.” he says. “They post something funny on their Instagram story, you reply with a funny comment or something, then you start talking to them and eventually you become friends.”

Evidence suggests that apps like TikTok and Snapchat can exacerbate loneliness depending on how it is used, but can actually protect against it when used to facilitate interactions IRL (in real life). There is a Facebook group for everyone, with a myriad of hobby groups as colourful as the people that make up our society. Owners of tiny snuffly dogs in Ōtepoti can join the group Dunedin Pugs, and for those who like to spin fire in Tāmaki Makaurau, they can join the 4,000 other members of Auckland Fire and Flow. These online groups act as a virtual community centre, connecting people with the same interests and often encouraging them to meet up in person.

The good news for anyone feeling isolated and alone is that statistically, loneliness tends to decrease with age, with each subsequent age band feeling less lonely than the one before it. But once people reach the age of 75, loneliness starts to increase again due to losing loved ones, ailing health, and decreased mobility.

Norma* lives alone in a rented flat in Christchurch with a feline friend as her only daily companion. She’s 79. Heart failure and fluid outside the lung have forced her to slow down. “I can’t go somewhere and rush around because I get out of breath,” she says. “I’m not as agile, I don’t get out and about the same, and my boys don’t want me driving cos they reckon I’m a bit hairy on the road.”

While she finds that her sons are great at helping with the groceries or driving her to doctor’s appointments, they don’t tend to linger for a cup of tea and a catch up. She’s a people person so when she goes for long periods of time without conversation or company, the dark clouds of loneliness can start to gather. “I just feel down,” she says. “I feel lost around the house. It’s just a crazy crazy feeling.” 

While the overall numbers of lonely people 75+ are still very small compared to other age groups, it is more detrimental as older people who experience chronic loneliness are at greater risk of the negative health outcomes.

Because our ancestors relied on tribal groups for survival, the perception of being separated from the pack can still trigger the fight, flight or freeze response to help mitigate immediate danger. But this state of hyperarousal is not intended to be maintained for long periods of time and can put a huge amount of stress on our body. In Alone Together, Walker writes “Those who report consistent feelings of loneliness are more likely to experience cardiovascular disease, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, dementia, and hormonal imbalances”. 

Comber points out extreme loneliness is traumatic, painful and deep and if left to fester can worsen over many years. She describes a spiral pattern called the loneliness loop model: “People who feel lonely may start to push people away and build up emotional walls because they are so scared of disappointment or rejection.” 

Josh, whose feelings of extreme loneliness are closely linked to periods of mental distress, knows this cycle all too well. “The worst is feeling like you’re stuck in this web of loneliness that you can’t get out of,” he says. “When I’m feeling lonely I don’t have the balls to reach out to people to organise something.”

A common misconception about loneliness is that having a life partner gives a person automatic immunity, or that you have to be alone to experience it. During her 15 years as a counsellor, Comber has seen dozens of married clients who, despite having someone to share their life with, feel profoundly lonely. “When this need for deep connection isn’t met, things start to get tricky,” she says. “If you feel let down by your partner, that’s where it starts.” 

Florence, a successful midlife professional, solo mum and self-confessed crazy dog lady, separated from her husband seven years ago, and remembers feeling lonely in the last few years of her marriage – a feeling that has only grew after separating. “I think when you’re in a relationship and you have experienced that level of emotional connection you expect it and you rely on it.” she says. “For it to go is excruciating.” 

As a coping mechanism Florence has found that staying busy helps. “I remember being incredibly uncomfortable in my own company and having an almost frantic effort to fill the gaps,” she laughs ruefully. “I developed a really excellent way of never being at home because being home is when you really notice the tumbleweeds rolling through.”

As people get older the fear of being alone can put pressure on singles to partner up. For those members of the lonely hearts club who are looking for love, apps like Tinder and Bumble have made dating more accessible, but not necessarily more enjoyable. According to the Pew Research Centre, only around half of online daters say their dating experiences have been positive, and while there are the occasional success stories, more often than not, the people swiping left and right alone in bed at night are the first to admit that what they are doing can perpetuate the problem. 

Florence calls online dating “dire” and will be happy if she never has to scroll past another profile picture of a guy holding a fish again. “When you begin it’s like the world of opportunity and you’re like ‘this is the place to go to cure this problem,’” she says. “But then for me I became jaded and burnt out.” 

For those wanting to connect on a purely platonic level, there are some very real barriers when it comes to socialising with others. Money or lack thereof is a big one. 

In 2024, people in households earning under $30,000 were twice as likely to report feeling lonely most or all of the time than those in households earning $150,000 or more. Living in poverty is diabolically stressful which can make forming and maintaining relationships difficult, and people who are juggling multiple jobs to cover the rent don’t have free time to socialise or the disposable income to pay for it. 

In a society increasingly dominated by smart phones and the internet, lack of access to a digital connection is another barrier. Connectivity allows individuals to look outside their physical environment for company, which is why the Helen Clark Foundation is calling for the government to help close the digital divide. In their view, an affordable connection should be considered a baseline for social inclusion much like a landline with free local calling used to be standard in New Zealand homes. 

Because she isn’t as mobile as she used to be, Norma sees her phone as a lifeline to the outside world. She looks forward to the weekly conversations with a friend of 50 years and her older brother who is in his nineties and lives far away. “Once a week or so he gives me a ring and moans about his wife “ she laughs. She says that she doesn’t mind listening to his woes and is in fact grateful for the regular contact. 

Loneliness is freely talked about in the population groups where there is an understandable context to the feeling – older people who are more socially isolated, disabled people who have accessibility barriers, or new migrants who have yet to establish friendships in a new land – but for those without an obvious reason, it can feel like a personal failing. “People who are lonely do not know who to trust, and people who are not lonely misunderstand loneliness,” Comber says. 

Florence admits “I don’t know that I’d be too open about ringing up somebody and going, ‘hey, I’m really lonely.’”, and Josh also feels vulnerable putting his hand up. “Most people you can’t really talk to about loneliness and stuff because they won’t understand. I haven’t had a deep conversation with anyone about loneliness for a long time, especially like the guys, they just take the piss out of everything.”  

There’s also the sense of being a burden. Norma admits she would “never say I’m lonely to my children”. She knows that if she were to mention the “L” word they would respond quickly but “I don’t like to be a nuisance. They’ve got young kids, it’s their life”. 

While loneliness is generally viewed as an individual problem, it is becoming more commonly accepted that the solution is, fittingly, a collective responsibility. 

In Aotearoa, a lot of the work to date has been in the senior space, with Age Concern connecting older people with their peers. On advice from her doctor, Norma has joined her local branch and now attends their Thursday hot meal at the community centre, and enjoys weekly home visits by one of their volunteers. “We have great natters and laughs and things,” she says. “When you find someone you click with, you have to make the most of it.” These regular events peppered throughout the week don’t exactly fill the empty hours that stretch from dawn to dusk, but Norma says she only feels lost from time to time now. “Since I’ve joined these groups it’s something to look forward to. You need that in life.” 

In 2018, the UK made loneliness a government priority with the introduction of a minister for loneliness, and the adoption of a national loneliness strategy. At the end of last year, Age Concern NZ called out for a similar agency to be established here. Comber says there are little bits and pieces of work being done in the community but nothing with a cohesive focus and certainly nothing led by the government. The Helen Clark Foundation acknowledges that those in power can’t directly influence our interactions with each other, but they could and should adopt policies that create conditions to facilitate or encourage meaningful connection. 

Neighbourhoods have long since provided a sense of belonging – that old fashioned notion of a village sharing cups of sugar with neighbours and watching out for each other. Despite living in the same house for 17 years, Florence feels disconnected from her community. “I could go an entire year and never see my neighbors,” she says, then giggles. “Like, I could have been eaten by my dog and nobody would know.” 

Urban planners here are starting to factor in connection to their housing designs. Relatively new Auckland suburb Hobsonville Point was designed to promote community interaction with higher density living that sees smaller individual backyards and more public shared spaces, walkability and reliable public transport, as well as regular community events. The benefit of planning neighbourhoods from scratch means that human connection can be baked in from the beginning rather than slapped on as an afterthought. 

For those wanting to tackle loneliness themselves, the internet is rife with self help guides and well-meaning listicles on what to do: try volunteering, join a club, reach out to an old friend. But for some people it is not that easy. Making friends as an adult can be difficult and daunting, taking both time and courage. 

Starting university was a hard time for Josh because he didn’t have an established network of friends from school, but he joined a bunch of campus clubs that forced him to meet new people. “If you are brave enough to go to club events, it is established that you want to make friends so everyone else is of the same mindset as you.”

Comber agrees that individual mindset is a huge part of it. “Architects and parks and all that help,” she says. “But if your individual way of being or thinking is negative, that’s within you.” She points out that some of the loneliest people live in apartments with dozens of neighbours in the same building, but they just don’t know how to connect with each other.

Our modern existence with its busyness and reliance on technology has robbed us of the many incidental human interactions that used to naturally occur in daily life – in post offices, banks, shopping malls – and we are forgetting how to make small talk. In response, Dutch supermarket chain Jumbo has introduced slow aisles or “chat checkouts” to allow deeper, or at least longer, interactions between workers and their customers. These small micro interactions can make a person feel a part of their community but also provide much-needed practice at talking to strangers, so when we do try to make new friends we feel more confident starting conversations. 

One last piece of advice from Comber: She likes to encourage her clients to learn to manage their own expectations, to try to find peace within themselves and to start enjoying their own solitude. The amount of time we spend alone increases with age, so we may as well get used to it.

Florence has been working on this for years, and recently attended a concert at the Powerstation on her own. “There is a real peacefulness when you get to the point that you are much more comfortable in your own company,” she muses. “Because in reality, the construct is not different. I’m still sitting in my house on my own but you actually just start to look at it a bit differently, it’s almost like the sun is just shining a little bit brighter.”

*Names have been changed.