Americans—and young Americans, in particular—are dating less, coupling less, marrying less, and having fewer children. A new book offers several theories for why.
The point that the increased prevalence of the idea that "a good and meaningful life could be created through curation and self-optimization strategies" leading to the belief that that "anything that places limits on our individual choices is inherently problematic" needs more attention in my life. The podcast landscape is filled with the idea that we can optimize our health, our time, and our relationships. Yet we know that great creativity and enjoyment comes from working within tight constraints, in art, in sports, and, yes, in relationships - yet it is hard to avoid the sirens of liberty, independence, and self.
I wonder if this desire to remove the friction of social networks, of organizations might only increase with "abundance" of certain things, and whether AI will also amplify that false sense of the potential of independence.
This is a good interview but depressing. The last quote is especially sobering.
The very institutions that we need to provide social organization are seeing declines in joining and participation. The individual autonomy ethos combines with an internet that occupies our minds and fragments our attention. The result is a self-reinforcing loop: declining participation weakens institutions; weaker institutions offer fewer attractive opportunities to participate; rebuilding connections then requires more personal initiative, which makes withdrawal easier.
Being part of something larger than yourself requires subordinating your preferences to those of the group - from choosing a restaurant with friends to committing a particular night each week to a group activity. In a world that prioritizes choice above all, that cycle continues.
I don't see a way out and that's what depresses me.
Mark, I actually believe there may be a way out—through what we're calling "gyms for social courage."
We've been experimenting with creating welcoming communities where people can practice taking small social risks, navigating awkwardness, and discovering that they can survive embarrassment—and even find joy in it!
We started with online karaoke, meeting people where they already are. But karaoke isn't the point—it's the practice.
What if we could reverse the cycle you're describing? Belonging encourages participation, participation builds confidence and trust, and that confidence makes people more willing to show up for one another.
We may not be able to rebuild the institutions we've lost overnight, but perhaps we can deliberately recreate the conditions that made them valuable in the first place.
In my last job I found it incredible how many of my younger coworkers had almost no life outside of work, other than, for many of them, doing things related to work, like learning new software. I really hope there is a movement toward actual life experience while they are still young enough to have it. As a 50-something I'm glad I made the mistakes and lived the imperfect but interesting life I did. I lived in Europe in my 20's, before smart phones. I drove through Europe using MAPS! Even Paris for god's sake. It was mental and it was awesome and it was something no generation will ever experience again, and I feel so lucky to have experienced life like that. Head on, not through a screen.
Cornell Health Services--according to what I've read--offers encouraging instruction to college students for all kinds of sex. Nowhere, apparently, is romance encouraged: the private, often secret, loving, beautiful yearning of a couple--found for thousands of years in poetry and literature. I've seen several Hallmark movies, and the non-college educated guy always wins the young woman come home to run a candy shop. Her city boyfriend is selfish and incapable of baling hay etc. Romance and the attraction of burly, practical men still exists but mainly in schlocky places like Hallmark movies. On-line, this theme of the working class hunk attracting the gentrified woman isn't playing out as it did for so long in serious literature like Lady Chatterley's Lover or Keats's poetry.
THE TRAP - Before the 1940s, many women married for security. They had few options to live alone. They were unwelcome at many places of work (misogyny). The law stipulates that the husband must share the family wealth and usually continue to support any offspring well into the post-divorce future. Because today members of both genders can support themselves in adulthood, one might expect that many young adults view marriage as a luxury or a trap. However, the bait remains in the trap. For example, your income taxes are lower, and your FDIC insurance at the bank doubles to half a million dollars. It even allowed my foreign-born spouse to easily acquire US citizenship.
THE TRAP DOOR - Most Americans seem to be unaware that they can install a trap door prior to taking marriage vows, which will avoid the misery of a future ugly courtroom divorce battle. That trap door is a legal prenuptial agreement that makes clear up front how each partner's wealth and financial responsibilities (child support and even custody) will be divvied up if they elect to divorce. Not feeling trapped likely helps minimize the emotional rage triggered by spats. That might explain why, over 26 years, I cannot recall a single spat with my spouse that did not resolve in an hour or two.
Derek, what struck me most about this conversation was the connection between Daniel's "experience deficit," his observations about embarrassment and surveillance, and his final point about the disappearance of institutions that once made social participation routine.
We've lost more than places to gather. We've lost opportunities to practice being imperfect around one another—and discovering that we can survive the experience.
I've been exploring this through an online karaoke community and, more recently, street karaoke in NYC. What I've discovered is that karaoke isn't really the point—it's the practice. When people take small social risks in an environment of kindness and respect, something remarkable can happen: embarrassment becomes less threatening, and vulnerability can become a source of connection.
That's why I don't believe the solution is necessarily to get people offline. We can meet them where they are and intentionally create opportunities to practice the social courage they'll need elsewhere.
We've spent decades teaching people how to become more independent. Perhaps it's time we taught them how to become better at being interdependent.
What would it look like if we deliberately tried to rebuild the social infrastructure that helps people learn those skills?
The point that the increased prevalence of the idea that "a good and meaningful life could be created through curation and self-optimization strategies" leading to the belief that that "anything that places limits on our individual choices is inherently problematic" needs more attention in my life. The podcast landscape is filled with the idea that we can optimize our health, our time, and our relationships. Yet we know that great creativity and enjoyment comes from working within tight constraints, in art, in sports, and, yes, in relationships - yet it is hard to avoid the sirens of liberty, independence, and self.
I wonder if this desire to remove the friction of social networks, of organizations might only increase with "abundance" of certain things, and whether AI will also amplify that false sense of the potential of independence.
This is a good interview but depressing. The last quote is especially sobering.
The very institutions that we need to provide social organization are seeing declines in joining and participation. The individual autonomy ethos combines with an internet that occupies our minds and fragments our attention. The result is a self-reinforcing loop: declining participation weakens institutions; weaker institutions offer fewer attractive opportunities to participate; rebuilding connections then requires more personal initiative, which makes withdrawal easier.
Being part of something larger than yourself requires subordinating your preferences to those of the group - from choosing a restaurant with friends to committing a particular night each week to a group activity. In a world that prioritizes choice above all, that cycle continues.
I don't see a way out and that's what depresses me.
Mark, I actually believe there may be a way out—through what we're calling "gyms for social courage."
We've been experimenting with creating welcoming communities where people can practice taking small social risks, navigating awkwardness, and discovering that they can survive embarrassment—and even find joy in it!
We started with online karaoke, meeting people where they already are. But karaoke isn't the point—it's the practice.
What if we could reverse the cycle you're describing? Belonging encourages participation, participation builds confidence and trust, and that confidence makes people more willing to show up for one another.
We may not be able to rebuild the institutions we've lost overnight, but perhaps we can deliberately recreate the conditions that made them valuable in the first place.
In my last job I found it incredible how many of my younger coworkers had almost no life outside of work, other than, for many of them, doing things related to work, like learning new software. I really hope there is a movement toward actual life experience while they are still young enough to have it. As a 50-something I'm glad I made the mistakes and lived the imperfect but interesting life I did. I lived in Europe in my 20's, before smart phones. I drove through Europe using MAPS! Even Paris for god's sake. It was mental and it was awesome and it was something no generation will ever experience again, and I feel so lucky to have experienced life like that. Head on, not through a screen.
Cornell Health Services--according to what I've read--offers encouraging instruction to college students for all kinds of sex. Nowhere, apparently, is romance encouraged: the private, often secret, loving, beautiful yearning of a couple--found for thousands of years in poetry and literature. I've seen several Hallmark movies, and the non-college educated guy always wins the young woman come home to run a candy shop. Her city boyfriend is selfish and incapable of baling hay etc. Romance and the attraction of burly, practical men still exists but mainly in schlocky places like Hallmark movies. On-line, this theme of the working class hunk attracting the gentrified woman isn't playing out as it did for so long in serious literature like Lady Chatterley's Lover or Keats's poetry.
THE TRAP - Before the 1940s, many women married for security. They had few options to live alone. They were unwelcome at many places of work (misogyny). The law stipulates that the husband must share the family wealth and usually continue to support any offspring well into the post-divorce future. Because today members of both genders can support themselves in adulthood, one might expect that many young adults view marriage as a luxury or a trap. However, the bait remains in the trap. For example, your income taxes are lower, and your FDIC insurance at the bank doubles to half a million dollars. It even allowed my foreign-born spouse to easily acquire US citizenship.
THE TRAP DOOR - Most Americans seem to be unaware that they can install a trap door prior to taking marriage vows, which will avoid the misery of a future ugly courtroom divorce battle. That trap door is a legal prenuptial agreement that makes clear up front how each partner's wealth and financial responsibilities (child support and even custody) will be divvied up if they elect to divorce. Not feeling trapped likely helps minimize the emotional rage triggered by spats. That might explain why, over 26 years, I cannot recall a single spat with my spouse that did not resolve in an hour or two.
Derek, what struck me most about this conversation was the connection between Daniel's "experience deficit," his observations about embarrassment and surveillance, and his final point about the disappearance of institutions that once made social participation routine.
We've lost more than places to gather. We've lost opportunities to practice being imperfect around one another—and discovering that we can survive the experience.
I've been exploring this through an online karaoke community and, more recently, street karaoke in NYC. What I've discovered is that karaoke isn't really the point—it's the practice. When people take small social risks in an environment of kindness and respect, something remarkable can happen: embarrassment becomes less threatening, and vulnerability can become a source of connection.
That's why I don't believe the solution is necessarily to get people offline. We can meet them where they are and intentionally create opportunities to practice the social courage they'll need elsewhere.
We've spent decades teaching people how to become more independent. Perhaps it's time we taught them how to become better at being interdependent.
What would it look like if we deliberately tried to rebuild the social infrastructure that helps people learn those skills?