The Loneliness Question – A Health and Wellbeing Series

The Peristyle Square, Split, Croatia. Photographer: Javier Dall | iStock.
Alone, not lonely … or are we?
By Emily Clarke
Briefly …
Loneliness is increasingly being recognised as a global public health concern. This is the first in our series of features exploring the tension between isolation and independence, and what it means to move through that space alone.
The conversation around loneliness is growing louder – amplified throughout our friendships and relationships, our homes and workplaces, and the cacophony of noise and distraction created by a plethora of digital spaces. Travelling solo doesn’t exist outside of this context. In many ways, it reflects it. If loneliness is rising, what role does solo travel play? Does it offer meaningful connection, or does it sometimes reinforce distance under the guise of independence?
Solo travel is often framed as empowering, liberating, even transformational. But there are the other more complicated moments, such as eating alone, navigating unfamiliar places without a shared reference point, or the absence of someone to celebrate a particular experience with or turn to for support.
In 2023, Vivek Murthy – the then Surgeon General of the United States – issued an advisory declaring loneliness a national public health issue. It was a striking moment, not because the feeling itself was new, but because it had finally been named at scale. Loneliness, once considered private and personal, was reframed as something broader, structural, and quietly widespread. A condition not confined to any one place or age but threaded through modern life in ways that are often difficult to see, and harder still for us to admit.
For travellers, particularly those of us who choose to travel alone, the question becomes more layered. Solo travel has long been associated with freedom, independence, and self-discovery. But it also exists within the same social currents that have brought loneliness into sharper focus. To travel alone is not simply to escape the world as it is, but to encounter it and our place within it more directly.
Beyond the United States, the language may differ, but the concern is increasingly shared. In the United Kingdom, the isolation felt by more than one in 10 people was described as a “hidden epidemic”, prompting a national response, and a dedicated Minister for Loneliness – Tracey Crouch – was appointed in 2018 by then Prime Minister Theresa May. The position reflected the ongoing governmental effort to address what had come to be seen as a widespread social issue rather than a private concern. In October of that year, the UK became the first country in the world to publish a loneliness reduction strategy, including initiatives such as social prescribing, where doctors can refer patients to community activities.
Across parts of Europe and East Asia, governments and researchers have begun to track social isolation not simply as a personal experience, but as a measurable societal shift. In countries such as Japan, where terms like ‘hikikomori’ describe extreme social withdrawal, loneliness has long been observed in more acute forms but is now being discussed more openly as part of a broader cultural and demographic change.
“… loneliness has long been observed in more acute forms but is now being discussed more openly as part of a broader cultural and demographic change.”
What is striking is not just the spread of the conversation, but its consistency. Whether framed as isolation, disconnection, or a decline in social cohesion, the underlying concern is similar – that our lives, for all their connectivity, have altered how and how often we truly engage with one another. In this context, loneliness is no longer seen as an individual failing, but as something shaped by the environments we move through, the systems we participate in, and the ways we now live.
At the same time, the picture is not entirely straightforward. While loneliness is widely described as a growing global concern, recent data suggests a more uneven pattern beneath the headline. In Australia, for example, loneliness rose during the COVID-19 pandemic but has since eased across several age groups, even as it remains a persistent issue for many. Similar patterns have been observed elsewhere, where the sharp disruption of lockdowns intensified feelings of isolation, followed by a partial recalibration as social life resumed.
This tension between the language of an ‘epidemic’ and the more complex reality beneath it has become part of the conversation itself. Loneliness is both widespread and deeply variable, shaped by age, place, culture, and circumstance. What is consistent, however, is its visibility. Once considered a private experience, it is now being measured, debated, and tracked globally – not as a single trend, but as a shifting condition of modern life.
Sources
World Health Organization. (2025). Social connection linked to improved health and reduced risk of early death.
Australian Institute of Health and Welfare. (2024). Social isolation and loneliness.
Emily Clarke is The Solo Traveller Group’s Tourism Collaborations Lead.
You are not alone. If this topic resonates more deeply than expected, it may help to speak with someone you trust or reach out to a support service in your area.
