In The Great Good Place (1989), Sociologist Ray Oldenburg identified the importance of "third places" – spaces that are neither home nor work, where people can gather and interact on equal footing. These neutral public spaces like parks, cafes, and community centres once allowed for spontaneous interactions and a low-cost entry point to social life outside the home. In the market of loneliness, these third places are increasingly scarce. Instead, our cities are filled with "non-places" – spaces designed for transit and consumption rather than lingering and socialising (Chang & Brooks, 2023). In our very own Brisbane, the dominance of car culture and lack of walkable spaces have unwittingly enabled people to move through environments without ever truly engaging with the physical place or the people within it. As opportunities for spontaneous social encounters – where people might trust, learn from, and help their neighbours – become a rarity, community members are more likely to go through life developing judgements based on limited information, fostering prejudice and deepening social divisions (Conti, 2022).

Accordingly, when we are dissatisfied with our lifestyle, opportunities or simply the people we know, modern life offers unprecedented choices for mobility. People can travel across the globe, relocate for work, or start anew in a different city. Yet, this mobility comes at a cost – leaving behind established communities and support systems. Many of my friends who moved interstate or out of the country for university have struggled during their first year, experiencing feelings of disconnection and the challenge of building new social networks from scratch. One of the most difficult aspects has been the lack of shared social history with their classmates, roommates, and neighbourhoods. Shared experiences, memories, inside jokes, local traditions, and mutual connections often form the foundation of close friendships. Without these touchpoints or opportunities for casual, face-to-face interactions in third places, it seems many of us now find it harder to connect with new people on a deeper level.

The 2018 Urbanisation and Quality of Life Survey conducted in 40 transitioning rural-urban areas in China found a significant link between emotional loneliness, the perceived deficit in quality of social connections, and urbanisation at country, township, and neighbourhood levels (Chen & Gong, 2021). Accordingly, many of us, in this time of spiking housing prices, likely live like "broiler house" chickens – physically close but socially isolated in densely populated apartment complexes, where we often remain strangers to those living just a few feet away. Factors like increased crime, reduced social support, poverty, high levels of violence and accidents, insecure tenure, and poor housing (Mckenzie, 2008) are further factors feeding social loneliness, indicating a lack of an adequate social network (Wolters et al., 2023).

When people feel this social disconnect, their risk of anxiety and depression expedites, alongside their risk of heart disease (29%), dementia (50%), and stroke (32%) (Murthy, 2023). Such mental health implications pose risks comparable to smoking 15 cigarettes a day and lead to substantial economic costs. Among older adults in the US alone, isolation accounts for an estimated $6.7 billion in excess Medicare spending (HHS, 2023).

Despite such costs, loneliness continues to go unaddressed, and people increasingly withdraw into environments that feel safe but are ultimately isolating – behind screens, in cars, or within the confines of private homes. As the world outside grows more complex, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming, it seems a setting of increasing individualism has inevitably developed (Osbourne, 2023).

For many, social media serves as the only viable third place, but it falls short of replacing real-world interactions. Online platforms lack the depth and nuance of face-to-face encounters when designed for transactional exchanges rather than fostering genuine connections (Chang & Brooks, 2023). This format reduces the richness of human interaction to a series of likes, comments, and shares. With the rise of online shopping and at-home streaming, individuals are reduced to mere consumers, and their interactions are limited to transactional exchanges (Conti, 2022). Our constant chase for fleeting cultural trends that shift each month reflects not only this but feeds the cycle of isolation: people withdraw into their private lives, feeling that their ordinary moments seem unworthy of sharing (Parham, 2023). When this endless cycle becomes exhausting, we retreat to rewatching shows like Gilmore Girls for the tenth time, yearning for the comforting nostalgia and the simpler, more meaningful times of our childhood that these remakes promise to rekindle.

But Lorelai Gilmore is not your best friend. As third places fade and meaningful connections are more difficult to come by, consumerism steps in to fill the void. People form parasocial relationships and collect material goods, demonstrating how the scarcity and effort that once made relationships valuable are now transferred to consumer products (Xiang et al., 2016). We see this in the brief yet cult-like obsessions with products, from people queuing overnight for limited-edition releases of Stanley Cups and Sonny Angels to the latest tech gadgets. Perhaps the thrill of acquiring the new trend offers a satisfying escape and sense of belonging through consumerist rituals (Lamour, 2024). Yet, the semblance of genuine human connection and memories is hollow and cannot provide the sense of community and purpose that comes from engaging with others in tangible, shared experiences.

With fewer opportunities for unscripted, organic interactions, our "social muscles" have weakened. Children, once free to roam and engage in unstructured play, will likely never experience what we recall fondly, instead growing up in environments where their social experiences are curated and controlled. Walk into a Sephora, and you’ll find preteens demanding concealers and anti-aging products, lured into an adult world before they even understand it (Spencer-Elliott, 2024). They miss out on learning conflict resolution and social negotiation through the "raw and natural" friction of navigating friendships and disputes growing up (Fitzpatrick, 2023).

Almost all job applications these days emphasise the value of soft skills, perhaps because adults, too, suffer from this lack of friction. When faced with disagreements, many retreat into echo chambers of like-minded individuals, both online and offline, further entrenching their isolation. Feelings of loneliness only serve to accelerate this as they lead to more polarisation and lessen our ability to come together to address issues like climate change and economic inequality (HHS, 2023).

Addressing the market of loneliness requires a fundamental shift in how we perceive and structure our lives. First, we need to reinvest in public and third places that are accessible, inclusive, and free from the pressures of consumerism. Urban design should promote walkability, public transportation, and spaces that encourage social interaction. At the same time, we must acknowledge the role that digital platforms play in our lives and find ways to make them more conducive to genuine connection rather than isolation.