In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General declared loneliness a public health epidemic. Not a trend. Not a cultural moment. An epidemic — with health risks comparable to smoking 15 cigarettes a day.
And the data keeps getting worse. Across the developed world, reported levels of loneliness have risen sharply, not just among the elderly but among young adults in their 20s and 30s — the most digitally connected generation in human history.
Something doesn’t add up. We have more ways to reach each other than ever before. More platforms, more group chats, more followers, more “connections.” And yet people feel less connected, less known, less close to the people around them.
The problem isn’t isolation. The problem is the quality of connection.
The difference between connected and known
You can interact with 200 people in a day and still feel lonely. That’s because loneliness isn’t about the number of people around you — it’s about whether any of them actually know you.
Researchers distinguish between social loneliness (lacking a social network) and emotional loneliness (lacking deep, intimate connections). Most young adults today don’t have a social loneliness problem. They have an emotional loneliness problem.
They have friends. They have group chats. They have plans. What they don’t have is someone who knows what they’re actually going through. Someone they can be honest with. Someone who asks the right question at the right time.
The modern loneliness paradox: surrounded by connections that don’t feel connecting.
How we got here
Social media replaced depth with breadth
Social platforms are designed for broadcasting, not connecting. You post for an audience. You curate for perception. The version of yourself that exists online is optimised for likes, not for intimacy.
The result: everyone knows what you ate for lunch. Nobody knows that you cried in the car park after work. The gap between your public self and your real self grows wider, and that gap is where loneliness lives.
Busyness became a status symbol
Somewhere along the way, “I’m so busy” became the default answer to every invitation. Busyness signals importance. Saying “I have nothing on this weekend” feels like admitting failure.
But busyness is the enemy of friendship. Deep relationships need unstructured time — the kind of time we’ve systematically eliminated from adult life.
Vulnerability became optional
We live in a culture that rewards self-sufficiency. Needing people is framed as weakness. “I’m fine” has become the universal shield. The result: everyone is performing strength while quietly craving depth.
The fix isn’t more connection. It’s better connection.
The loneliness epidemic won’t be solved by another social platform. It won’t be solved by joining more groups or attending more events. It will be solved the same way loneliness has always been solved: by one person asking another person a real question and actually listening to the answer.
That’s not revolutionary. It’s ancient. It’s how humans have built closeness for thousands of years. The problem is that we’ve lost the habit.
We’ve outsourced our social lives to platforms designed for engagement, not intimacy. We need to bring the intention back.
Small changes that compound
Replace one meme per week with a real question. In any friendship where communication has become purely transactional or performative, a single genuine question can shift the entire dynamic.
Answer first. Don’t just ask — share. When you go first with something honest, you give the other person permission to do the same.
Create micro-rituals. A weekly question exchange with one friend. A monthly Circle with your closest group. Something small and repeatable that brings intention to relationships that currently run on autopilot.
Accept async. Stop waiting for both schedules to align. Send something meaningful now. Let them respond when they can. Depth doesn’t require simultaneity.
This is why Ohh exists. Not as another social platform. Not as entertainment. As a tool for the friendships you already have — to make them feel like they used to. Deeper, not wider. Quality, not quantity. One question, one honest answer, one friendship that feels less lonely.
It starts with one conversation
The loneliness epidemic sounds like a macro problem. And it is. But the solution is radically personal. You don’t fix loneliness by fixing society. You fix it by calling one friend, asking one question, and saying something you actually mean.
You probably have someone in mind right now. Someone you haven’t talked to in a while. Someone where the friendship has settled into comfortable distance.
Send them a question tonight. Answer it yourself first. Let them know you’re still here — and that you want to know how they’re really doing.
That’s not going to solve an epidemic. But it might solve it for one person. And that’s enough to start.