Critics are calling it a ‘friendship recession’ but who, or what, is to blame?
Theodore Abbott (he/him) // News Editor
Anya Ali Mulzet (they/them) // Illustrator
Although shocking, it should come as no surprise that we are indeed facing a decline of friendship. In fact, when considering the circumstances under which this phenomenon has emerged, it’s hard to imagine any other series of events.
Both in quantity and quality, close friendships have diminished over the last 30 years. As an area of research, there is no shortage of literature offering various diagnoses for this gloomy, lonesome state of affairs. Some critics point to social media as the culprit, others look at work-culture—overall there seems to be little consensus as to which factor is contributing the most. Where the consensus lies is with regard to its impact. Across the board, everyone agrees that fewer friendships, and friendships of poorer quality, is irrefutably negative; not only for our physical, emotional and spiritual health, but negative for communities as a whole.
Measuring the quantity of friendships is hard. People tend to be reluctant when it comes to discussing their personal friendships, and especially when admitting to the lack thereof. Despite this, data tells us that over the last 30 years the number of people who report not having a close friend has increased. This trend is strongest among men, but post-Covid saw women better represented in what is sometimes called ‘the friendship recession.’
Then there’s the quality of our friendships, which is also in crisis.
About a year ago, I was at my local community centre, sitting in the sauna, eavesdropping on a conversation. Two men, both in their twenties, were having what I would characterize as a heart-to-heart. At the end of the chat, as they left, one quipped to the other that he should ‘send him an invoice.’ What this young man was commenting on was the intimacy of their conversation and, that in a certain way, by having a meaningful exchange with his friend, he had fulfilled the role of a therapist. What this exchange symbolizes is a seismic shift in the nature of close friendships, and—although anecdotal—it aligns with what the research is saying.
According to survey data, we are now less likely to turn to a friend in times of trouble than in the 1990s. As author and social scientist Richard Reeves states, “In times of crisis, you need a shoulder to cry on, or at least someone to have a conversation with. That’s less and less likely to be a friend now.”
This trend also coincides with a mushrooming of the self-help industry. Where friends once provided an essential pillar of emotional support, we are now seeing them replaced by councillors, life coaches and every variation of therapist. Additionally, psychiatric medication prescriptions have steadily increased since the early 2000s. Particularly among university students, these medications are most commonly antidepressants, anti-anxiety and psychostimulants. Although I am in no way opposed to treatments like therapy or medication, the possibility that some percentage of folks may have reached for the pill bottle when a friend was all they needed is a sobering thought.
Aside from the explanations that have already been offered by critics like Richard Reeves, it’s worth considering that the decline of friendship, to some extent, can be taken as a symptom of identity politics. Insofar as identity politics is a movement that holds the individual, and individual expression above all else, the result has been radical atomization. In short, identity politics incentivises a kind of hyper-individualism, such to the extent that solidarity and kinship play second fiddle. Similar observations have been made before, especially with regard to how identity politics works against class politics. On the World Socialist Website, Dominic Gustavo defines identity politics as “an essential tool utilized by the bourgeoisie to maintain its class domination over the working class by keeping workers divided along racial and gender lines.”
I would argue, however, that the divisive nature of identity politics extends to friendships, and is subsequently having a negative effect. This is because, as the result of elite capture, identity politics has become a movement defined by division, rather than unity. And, as the most defining ideology throughout the last twenty years, we are now struggling not only to form solidarity across political movements, but also to establish the common ground needed for basic friendships.