Chapter Content
Okay, so, "How Did We Get Here?" right? That's the question. And it kind of starts with this story about this guy, Scott. So, Scott hits his ten-year work anniversary, and he gets this email from his boss, you know, saying he *has* to go to this well-being and resilience program. And his reaction? Basically, "Screw that," and he deletes it. Like, he was not in a good place at all.
He was going through a really tough divorce. Apparently, him and his wife were, like, super comfortable financially, but after the breakup, he was, like, broke. He's trying to build a new life for his four kids, and he's struggling, *really* struggling. And, you know, he's blaming his ex-wife, which, I guess, made him feel a little better in the moment. But, you know.
He would have been the first to admit he was the *last* person who needed a well-being program. He was a prison guard for ten years, and he used to love his job, but now? He just hated being there. He was, like, combative and withdrawn. If someone questioned him, he wouldn't even listen; he'd just get super aggressive, trying to win the argument, not by being right, but by being louder and more intimidating, you know?
And it wasn't much better at home, even though he loved his kids. He was raising them the way his dad raised him, very strict. No room for discussion. It was his way or no way, and he was fine with that. He admits there was a lot of yelling, and not much joy, you know? It was just work, home, sleep, repeat. Just trying to get through each day without some huge disaster.
So, here's the thing. Unlike a lot of these stories, he actually quit drinking during this time. Like, even his usual vices weren't doing it for him anymore. He knew he was in a bad spot mentally, but he just didn't have the energy to do anything about it.
What finally got him to sign up for the program was this friend, Faye, who he worked with. She'd already done it and thought it would help him. They’d kinda lost touch because he'd stopped hanging out in the break room, stopped going for after-work drinks, just kept his head down.
He used to be, like, a really friendly guy, and Faye hated seeing him so disconnected and, well, distrustful. So, one day, she basically tells him to stop fighting the program and just do it. She said he needed it. And Scott, he always liked Faye, so he agreed, reluctantly.
And that was it, that was the nudge he needed. It totally changed him. He realized the people at work weren't his enemies, you know? They didn't think he was an idiot, or at least he didn’t think they did, so, he was asking himself, why was he fighting with them all the time? Why was he always ready for a fight? Wouldn't working together be, like, a *lot* more productive? He realized he hadn't trusted anyone since his divorce, but did they really deserve all his anger? He used to be one of the most well-liked people there, right? He used to believe they were all working together to make a difference.
He couldn't even remember when he stopped caring about making a difference at work. He used to really care about the women in the prison, hoping they would turn their lives around after getting out. But, yeah, lately he'd just been going through the motions. He’d just assumed everyone else was too.
When did he stop caring about the people around him? Why did work and home feel like a never-ending chore instead of places to contribute something? Why was he pushing away all connections with people he liked and admired? Where was this anger and isolation getting him?
Nowhere. He realized. He looked around that room, at all the people he used to be close to, and he decided to soften up, open his eyes, and believe in something again.
The trainer reminded them that it was a program for them to learn about themselves, to get comfortable, to move around, no rules. And for Scott, that was huge. It was about *him* learning, not just the teacher lecturing, you know? It fit his learning style way better.
He also really appreciated the focus on a growth mindset, understanding their own strengths. He realized one of his strengths used to be that he was good with people. He used to be. And he realized he could grow that skill again, that he could grow in all sorts of ways.
He felt changed, completely. Like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head. He wanted to share this feeling. So, he went to thank Faye, and then he asked her if she'd be willing to take *another* course with him, to become trainers themselves.
He didn't know it then, but he had already taken the first steps towards flourishing: connecting with his colleagues again, Faye above all, and maybe even finding his purpose: connecting with people and helping them find their own strengths. The program also focused on mindfulness and meditation. He started looking inside himself, calming himself, focusing on what he *could* control, and thinking about how all of this could help the people in the prison, you know? That was something.
This whole thing is about moving from feeling defeated and bitter and isolated to finding purpose again. There's this real sweetness to life when you find something bigger to live for. It's this transformation of going from the depths of despair to finding a reason to fight and live again.
So, that’s Scott’s story, right? But how did we get here *generally*? How did so many people end up in this place of languishing? Well, it's complicated, but a big part of it is the decline of warm, trusting relationships, the brain and body's reaction to loneliness, and things like racism and discrimination.
Loneliness is a public health crisis now. It's linked to shorter lives and all sorts of mental and physical problems. But the "war on loneliness" is really about fixing the lack of real connections, belonging, and acceptance in our lives. Loneliness is only a part, but an important part, of the bigger problem of languishing.
A study showed that in 2021, a lot of people felt lonely frequently. And for younger people, it was even worse. People are spending more time alone. Even people with partners and kids. And it's getting harder to make new friends as we get older and move around.
Data shows that loneliness actually increases as we age, too. Close relationships disappear, and sometimes where we live impacts things. Living alone used to be really uncommon, but now a lot of places are seeing up to sixty percent of the living arrangements be solitary.
Social isolation is assumed to increase with the amount of time spent alone, but, really, they correlate modestly. Spending time with people doesn’t mean that it's time spent with meaningful people. You can feel lonely even when you're around a lot of people if you're not close to them, right? And you can spend more time alone, but spend that little time with those you are close to, and not feel lonely because you're experiencing trusting relationships with others.
But here's the thing: loneliness, social isolation, and living alone are linked to premature death. Studies show they all increase your chances of dying earlier.
And loneliness rarely happens in a vacuum. You know, maybe you lose your sense of purpose because you feel like you have nothing left to give. Then you stop going to your social clubs, withdrawing from society. That has ripple effects. You become less accepting of yourself, less confident, feel like you're not growing, and start thinking your life is over.
It's not just loneliness, but also a loss of purpose, personal growth, social contribution, all those things.
We know from studies that being alone in a room is really uncomfortable for many people, especially now. When people were asked to be alone with their thoughts, without phones or anything, a lot of them had a hard time concentrating, and most of them didn’t even enjoy it.
And get this: some people would rather give themselves electric shocks than be alone with their thoughts! Like, they chose to hurt themselves rather than feel nothing.
Silence and stillness can be forced on you by circumstances, or even others. Being quiet and still for too long can feel like punishment, aversive, like emptiness. That awkward pause in a meeting that motivates someone to speak. It can become a source of deep pain, emotional pain.
One psychologist, Rachel Zoffness, talks about how this emotional distress feels like physical pain, and says the more you label mental or physical distress as a "bad" thing, the more you heighten the sensitivity of your central nervous system to pain. It doesn't matter to your brain if it’s a needle or the feeling of being unlovable, the same pain center is being activated.
Who can say that a broken bone hurts more than a broken heart? It hurts to live in fear, to be ostracized, to feel shame, to experience discrimination. All of those things trigger stress hormones.
That pain is trying to tell us to do something constructive, to seek therapy. But too many people can't, so they turn to drugs or alcohol to mask the pain. It feels like a warm hug. We try to find the feeling of connection from addictive substances when we can't get it from the real thing, especially when that real thing has been a source of great pain.
Now, connection can cut both ways. The absence of it can cause pain, but for some, the presence of it can be a source of trauma and pain that we try to mask.
Feeling disconnected. That’s what Scott felt. And he wanted to blame his wife. We all want to find something easy to blame. Like social media. As smartphones became more common, in-person interactions went down. But social media is just a tool, and we choose how to use it. Sometimes we pick the wrong tool. Sometimes we use email instead of talking to someone in person, which would build more trust.
Key indicators of connection were actually declining way *before* smartphones, too. Civic engagement, for instance. David Brooks, the writer, talked about how trust has collapsed over the years, and nations with higher trust are more functional.
Membership in religious groups has been dropping for years. And studies link this to an increase in deaths of despair, like suicide and drug overdoses. It's a loss of community, leading to loneliness.
We've been seeing trust in our schools, our government, even our fellow Americans, decline as well.
So, building connections requires skills.
We're becoming a lot like Nate from Ted Lasso, by sharpening our cruelty rather than working on our empathy. Negative and divisive comments get more attention. It's like we're practicing the wrong skills. We're building a world where cruelty is normal. The win-at-all-costs mentality makes us shed our kinder selves.
We think more social connections will reduce loneliness, but it depends on what both sides bring to the relationship. We need those connections characterized by warmth, trust, patience, mutual understanding, and empathy. Being alone more means we might be losing our skills for getting what we need from those connections.
That's why there's so many books on emotional intelligence. We have to build these skills. We're losing our ability to be vulnerable and communicate in a healthy way. It's hard to find people we share interests with. Making new friends as an adult takes effort. And exposing yourself to unplanned interactions can be challenging.
It's also about shared interests and values, or at least acceptance, tolerance, and curiosity. We're sharing ourselves and our lives with others. The question is whether we have something meaningful to share.
Social connections and a meaningful life reinforce each other.
It's tempting to think that social connections cause meaning in life, but it can go both ways. Flourishing is the combination of connection and a meaningful life. It may be the answer to the problem of living and working alone, feeling lonely, and languishing.
Isolating people erodes the meaningfulness of life. When people are made to feel rejected, they lose their meaning in life. Restoring that feeling of belonging increases their sense of meaning.
Feelings of loneliness are tied to our sense of purpose, and having a meaningful life motivates us to connect with others. Having more connections and having a more meaningful life predicts the lack of loneliness.
We know we crave human connection to thrive, but we keep making decisions that lead to us being and feeling more alone. Connection makes our lives meaningful, and a meaningful life makes us want to connect and share it with others.
But for some, the world is an actively hostile place. Discrimination based on things like race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation, can suppress seven of the components of flourishing.
This makes it harder to feel that society is becoming better, make sense of what's happening, feel like you belong, hold yourself in high regard, feel confident to think and express ideas, manage your life, and have a trusting attitude towards others.
Facing stereotyping, prejudice, injustice, and brutality can take a huge toll.
Even success can be costly to those who overcome the odds against them. It builds up chronic stress over time.
Black Americans report higher levels of self-esteem and social support, which can be protective factors against languishing. Black parents are more likely to believe that they are role models to their children. But this "advantage" seems to disappear with age.
When looking at rates of languishing, it’s important to remember they are also dismissed, underdiagnosed, and undertreated by the healthcare industry. Doctors routinely judge Black patients' pain as lower than white patients', prescribing less medication.
And the spike in hate crimes and verbal harassment against Asian Americans in the wake of the pandemic has caused immense psychological distress.
So, this discrimination causes a lot of pain across these various groups, and should galvanize cries for social change. Self-care can't solve a problem they didn't start.
As we fight for a more safe, equitable, and antiracist world, we still have bodies and emotions, desires, and fears. And research has started to recognize that these social and environmental factors play a profound role in what health outcomes people have.
We need to look at the quality of our relationships and the strength of our community ties. These social "resources" are especially important in disadvantaged communities, where flourishing can have a more dramatic impact on your quality of life.
For instance, one study showed that the racial mortality gap between Black and white Americans disappeared among adults who flourished. The authors theorized that flourishing may replenish the social resources that counteract the social conditions which lead to early mortality.
But this isn't to say that flourishing can "erase" all of those wrongs, it creates the conditions for health equity. Individual efforts and public health policy can work together.
Now, the genetic response to adversity is known as the conserved transcriptional response to adversity, or CTRA.
When our mind senses a threat, it activates the genes that create inflammation and decreases the expression of antiviral and antibody genes.
Inflammation is useful for injury, but not emotional stressors. Those stressors activate our CTRA, which increases the risk of developing things like cancer, diabetes, and mental health issues. And lonely people have more inflammation.
How can we moderate our CTRA in times of stress? Flourishing has emerged as one of the leading predictors of a more muted CTRA.
It's not just the "feeling good" part of flourishing, it's the "functioning well" part. It's the sense that you're living a meaningful life. When people with higher psychological well-being are stressed, their inflammation genes aren't ramped up as much.
When you like most parts of your personality, when you have warm relationships, when you're challenged to grow, when your life has purpose, when you're confident, and when you can manage your life, you have higher psychological well-being. That can be powerful medicine.