Relationships

Back in the 1970s, the Swedish vacuum maker Electrolux expanded into the US market with the slogan - [Nothing sucks like an Electrolux](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZrQqnRhmZ0). Even though it was grammatically correct and pointed towards the efficiency of its vacuum cleaners, the saying didn’t fly with the American audience, and how could it? The literal meaning was swept under the rug of slang, the prevalent form of communication.

Failure of communication, I realised, starts with our inability to understand others, which is the result of our gross inability to hold alternate perspectives.

Closer home, one innocent word that can start a war is ‘Bhaiya’. It translates to ‘elder brother’, historically used as a sign of respect. Indians use Bhaiya as a suffix to address elder brothers and their friends but also in one-off social interactions with, say, the carpenter, security guard or the [rickshaw-wallah](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auto_rickshaw) - basically, any stranger. Only when I moved to Mumbai seven years ago did I realise that one can badly offend rickshaw-wallahs if one addresses them as [Bhaiya](https://www.indiatoday.in/amp/news-analysis/story/bhaiya-uttar-pradesh-up-bihar-punjab-channi-1914880-2022-02-18). Why? Because it has now morphed into a derogatory word for a class of migrant labourers from select central states. I had once called out to a rickshaw driver in all my innocence- “Bhaiya, will you go to Bandra?” and a high decibel noise hit me back - “*Bhaiya kisko bola, haan?*” (Who do you think you called Bhaiya, huh?)

I chose not to engage with him and let him process his reaction, which was clearly towards a deep-rooted trigger point. I learned an important lesson that day: all it takes to diffuse a situation is for one side to understand the other’s perspective in the heat of the moment.

Now, what about communication and perspective-taking in relationships that last longer than a conversation on the street?

It would not be an exaggeration to say that most relationships are laced with telephone-game-equivalent conversations where the mind wants to say something, the deployed words mean something else, and the final message is as distorted as a badly auto-tuned cringe pop song.

> How can one interpret what ‘hmmm’ means in a text message? Is it agreement, disagreement, no comments, thinking mode, none of the above, or all of the above?

Imagine a conversation between a husband and a wife where the wife, on returning home after a long day at work, is received by her husband at the door with - “You got home late today?”

He wanted to confess that he missed her and was waiting to share with her his workplace stories, but who speaks directly in such an articulate world anyway?

Blamed and shamed, the wife retorts with- “You have no idea how much pressure I am under!” when she just wanted to declare how tired she was.

Both essentially wanted to hug each other, but because of this inability, rather a blatant refusal to hold each other’s perspective, it ended up being an argument with a common theme - you don’t understand.

The above example is not a work of fiction. I know a couple just like this.

I know many couples (and not just romantic partners; there are friends, siblings, parent-child, neighbours, you name it!) who indulge in such twisted conversations, and if it resembles any persons, living or dead, whom you know, it will not be co-incidental. This turn of events transcends generational and even geographical boundaries simply because, somehow, it has become difficult for us to express ourselves the way we want to.

According to a survey by the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers (AAML), [67.5%](https://divorce.laws.com/number-one-reason-for-divorce) of marriages fail because of a communication breakdown, which is not surprising, given how [terrible we are at understanding each other.](https://hbr.org/2015/04/were-all-terrible-at-understanding-each-other)

This is why I find the phrase ‘You don’t understand’ quite amusing, almost paradoxical. It’s like two people in a conversation keep screaming ‘You don’t understand’ to each other without pausing to bridge the gap between ‘You’ and ‘I’; to see what it is that ‘I don’t understand’ about what the other is saying which may, in all possibility, change what they were trying to say in the first place.

The fact is that it’s not the ‘what’ but the ‘where they’re coming from’ (or what’s their perspective on the matter) that we have trouble understanding, which becomes the root cause of miscommunication.

More often than not, the human tendency to put self-first results in disastrous social interactions. Stretch it enough; it becomes an intolerable pattern of narcissistic behaviour.

::post[floatRight]{#what-happened-when-i-ditched-self-empowerment-and-embraced-critical-thinking}

For instance, my Outlook Calendar became a witness to just how far our inability to take alternate perspectives has gone after it started failing miserably at the one job it has - managing schedules. There have been times when I had three overlapping invites for the same helpless thirty-minute slot. I could almost hear the voice of the new meeting host- “I do see that your Calendar is red, but *you don’t understand*; my agenda is way more important!” Initially, I tried to imitate Hermoine Granger (without her [time-turner](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Time-Turner)) to be in multiple meetings simultaneously by using the fancy ‘hold’ option, but it turns out it is not as fancy as it sounds. The only thing I got in return was a sense of pseudo-productivity, ultimately leading to burnout. Eventually, I had to be okay with declining the double bookings, but I realised it was not enough. To stop it from becoming a plaguing pattern, I started adding comments for the over-eager people to ensure my perspective was also appreciated; while declining their invites or requesting a reschedule.

The bitter truth is that the more learned a society becomes, the fewer words are put to use as originally intended - to communicate. It’s become a one-way street to further one’s agenda, with the pathway of listening indefinitely blocked.

Yes, large-scale problems have arisen due to no or improper communication. But the unfortunate reality is that too much communication without actually intending to communicate has emerged as the winner of the ruin-the-peace contest. More dangerously so, when too much communication happens without holding others’ perspectives and turns what could have been an amicable social interaction into a volcano-erupting, earth-shattering level of argument. Just look at the Parliament sessions [across the world](https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-35524966). Leaders have repeatedly proven that the ‘*we*’ in ‘This is how *we* do it’ really alters the way we take alternate perspectives and hold a comprehensible communication.

To make it worse, technology has not helped in this regard. Peculiar ways to communicate have knocked on our doors, and so have newer ways to confuse effectively. How can one interpret what ‘hmmm’ means in a text message? Is it agreement, disagreement, no comments, thinking mode, none of the above, or all of the above? What about the journey from Okay through Ok to K? For one, using K can be a time-saving endeavour, and for another, it can be used to convey how fumingly angry they are.

To decode these new-age mysteries, we need to know more about the human using the technology than the technology itself. The fact is that each person has had a unique life experience and hence, a unique perspective. Even a set of identical [twins](https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2013/05/14/182633402/how-can-identical-twins-turn-out-so-different) would have slightly, if not vastly, different life trajectories based on their individuality. Then how can we expect different people in a team or social circle, however homogeneous they seem to be, to behave in the same way?

This is where human interactions become interesting. Our perceptions have to match; our realities do not. Our perspective-taking ability gets developed over hundreds of millions of seconds of learning and evolving, and it allows us to expand our thinking as well as our sense of ‘we’, but not at the expense of our core beliefs, thus beautifully taking care of the age-old debate of identity vs conformity. This has made me see ‘Be the bigger person’ in a completely different light.

Oh, I have now graduated to addressing rickshaw-wallahs as ‘Chacha’ (Uncle). Life doesn’t suck anymore.

I chose not to engage with him and let him process his reaction, which was clearly towards a deep-rooted trigger point. I learned an important lesson that day.

How to bridge a gap and understand the unintelligible

:style[How to bridge a gap]{block="true" fontSize="70"} :style[and understand the]{block="true" fontSize="73"} :style[unintelligible]{block="true" fontSize="107" lineHeight="1"}

Friendship is an art that requires talent, time, and dedication. Sometimes it lasts a lifetime, sometimes not, but its importance lies in the extent to which it lives in us. In a society obsessed with romantic love and professional success - the perfect job, the ideal partner, the golden children, and the little house in the country - we easily forget the degree to which our close friends are fundamental components not only of the shaping of our individuality, but of our lives.

Two weeks after my mother died, a message appeared on her Messenger (we had not yet cancelled her accounts, which today is tantamount to officially writing you off as dead). One of her best friends from her twenties was writing to announce that she had finally retired and now had time to talk.

The idea that friendships become harder to maintain once you pass the thirties curve seems to be a fact. Life changes; we change. I recently asked a group of people whether they found it more complicated to maintain and make friends after 30; their answer was a resounding yes. Amidst work obligations, partners, family, and the twists and turns of life, it can be easy to lose track. By the time we realise it, our lives barely collide. Still, part of me cannot help but wonder, is it a lack of time or interest?

The web is littered with photos of friends toasting and articles about how social relationships affect our health. We know about the correlation between genetic traits and environment; that gazing into each other's eyes activates our brain's social network; that there is a higher rate of cardiovascular problems among people who feel lonely; that we are born to connect; that dementia worsens if a person is isolated; that our immune system declines when we are depressed and that prolonged levels of stress ages us. But we say little about the influence of friendship over our being and our lives.

I grew up in a family where friends were considered the family of choice. There would always seem to be someone having coffee in the kitchen. For my parents, friends didn't take up time; they filled the house with life. And although, as a child, I sometimes found it a drag when my parents' friends held me in the kitchen with the same endless stories, I am grateful they instilled in me the importance of those long evenings of food, wine, storytelling and political debates. And although we changed countries often, and they inevitably lost many of their friends along the way, they managed to keep in touch with most of those close to them. Preserving relationships was not only possible but essential. I am talking about a generation that grew up without the means of communication we have today. An international phone call would cost you an arm and a leg.

![Man sitting at a table alone](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1654429310/post/friends_table_gk7pkt.jpg "None of the post-covid hyper-connectivity seems to replace the power of presence. In the absence of body contact, relationships remain on the fringes of the intangible, the unreal and the immediate. Image adapted from Reddit.")

Throughout lockdown the scarce amount of communication I was having with some of my friends became obvious. Yes, we would look at our Instagram feeds and drop a "like" here and there, but we barely called each other. Given that we are the most digitised generation with the most access to media, and given that we were at home and were being spared the day-to-day commute to work, the lack of meaningful encounters no longer seemed to be a matter of lack of time. And while the pandemic brought us together in many ways, it also showed us the cracks in society. The elderly were already dying alone, and the so-called *epidemic of loneliness* was already raging. As for me and many others, it made me take a closer look at the nature of my relationships. If you don't call your friends when the world seems to be falling apart, when then? Is this hyper-connectivity in which we live giving us the illusion that we are connected when, in fact, there is no real connection? What does it mean to have meaningful relationships?

Because if the pandemic made one thing clear, it is that the hyper-connectivity in which we live did not save us from feeling lonely and isolated. Social media and platforms have allowed us to communicate; stay informed; work remotely; do yoga via YouTube; read books; connect with people from all over the world; listen to music, share millions of photos, links, articles, and videos; and binge-watch series and films -- and I will be forever grateful for this. Yet, none of this seems to replace the power of presence. In the absence of body contact, relationships remain on the fringes of the intangible, the unreal and the immediate.

As if in the dematerialisation of the world, our reality was slipping into fiction, preventing us from having more authentic relationships. Looking at our friends' lives through the pictures they post doesn't mean that we are part of it; More visibility does not imply a connection. And while social media is an incredible expansion of our relationship with others, we need physical contact. Not only because physical touch lowers stress and increases oxytocin, and God knows how many other hormones tied to love and our ability to bond. But because touch certifies our existence, it makes us real; it anchors us in the present moment. To quote Robin Dunbar: "There is an honesty about touch that cannot be matched by any other sense". Our body is a manifestation of who we are. We experience the world through our senses. And while you can tell a lot about a person by the way they write or speak, it is through the body that people communicate what they cannot articulate. It's how they move, their gestures, the silences, and their gaze that reveals the other person in all their complexity. You can control what you say in a chat, you can pretend, lie, and create fiction on Instagram, but you can't help but feel your body contract when someone you don't like touches you. Our body gives us away, and it is in that vulnerability where truth finds the space to grow.

It's what we experience together that binds us in a particular way. These shared spaces are built daily through different scenarios. The morning coffees, the shitty jobs we endured together, the fights, the half-paid rents, the books we shared, the synchronisation of our bodies as we danced, sang, walked, and explored new places together without knowing what would happen, the complicit exchanges of glances, the thousands of series we watched encrusted on the couch, all the meals, drinks and late-night talks, the losses and existential crises we navigated together.

![Friends taking pictures](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1654429310/post/friends_camera_o94hzs.jpg "In cycles of closeness and distance, I keep learning the fragile balance between holding tight and letting go. Friends who endure over time are like a piece of art built over a lifetime. Image: Halfpoint/Adobe.")

Friendships are built on a day-to-day basis and cemented in the rockiest moments. Getting to know each other takes time, breaking with the illusion of immediacy and reclaiming the beauty of being real. Having close ties involves more than going out to dinner from time to time, it's about being in each other's lives. When apathy or inertia dominates our relationships, we stop seeing one another and fall into blind spots. That is why making room for new friends throughout our lives is important, as they allow us to see ourselves through new eyes. As a gateway to new parts of us that are waiting to be born. We need to be able to keep those doors open.

Every friend is a piece of ourselves that claims us, and every friendship is the product of the unique combination of two people. Understanding friendship as a living bond means leaving room for change and opening it up to the possibility of further growth. In this exploration of who we are and what we create, when we are together, the other person becomes part of you.

As Aristotle said, a friend is another self.

We internalise our closest friends as well as our families of origin. Whether or not we have an ongoing relationship with them, they become part of us. And yet the prevailing narrative encourages us to expect less and less from our friends.

If the rise of the individual has given us the freedom to lead a life different from that set by society; it should also give us the freedom to recreate other forms of community beyond the established models that have nothing to do with our circumstances. As Johann Hari says in his book *Lost Connections,* the phrase ‘“nobody can help you except yourself” has been taken to such extremes and misinterpretations that it has become an easy way of simply not being there for other people’. And I couldn't agree more.

I suspect that the loss of community and the exacerbated focus on the couple as the only source of existential fulfilment is causing people to feel lonelier and more anxious. And although the degree of intimacy and love within a couple is higher and the commitment deeper, our close friends are also meaningful and intimate relationships.

> Our choice to show up at weddings as a family unit wasn't just a cute stunt. It was an extension of our political belief that friendship is a relationship that's equal in importance to romantic and family bonds.

As societies evolve, so do family dynamics and structures. The freedom to create another kind of family starts with claiming other forms of family units, whether they are homoparental or multinuclear, and challenging the idea that being single or childless means being alone. Not being in a couple does not mean not having other types of relationships or that such relationships are uncommitted. Two close friends who one day decide to live together and share expenses are indeed intertwining their lives. Is that not also a family? Living and sharing the intimacy of a home is part of building a solid and authentic relationship. Close friends are also love stories. To legitimise it is to redefine our way of loving and living. As Aminatou Sow and Anne Friedman say in their book *Big Friendship*, "Our choice to show up at weddings as a family unit wasn't just a cute stunt. It was an extension of our political belief that friendship is a relationship that's equal in importance to romantic and family bonds.".

Family units mirror the social structure. If you change the way families function, you pull the strings of society. Chosen families have not only allowed people to find space for belonging, but they have also allowed those spaces to have an impact on the world. From the coming together of women who became feminist movements to the LGTBQ community, where people expelled from their families of origin could find a space of inclusion, support and recognition. Or the immigrants who, finding themselves alone in another country, created networks of support and financial assistance with people who became family. Chosen families have certainly been a decisive hub.

Choosing a friend as a family is a conscious decision to be part of each other's lives. It involves being willing to embrace the challenges that will inevitably come and seeing the hard times as opportunities for growth and empowerment.

To take the time to connect and improve our relationships is to take responsibility for them. And, as in a long marriage where you repeatedly marry different versions of the same person, from time to time, we are pulled to step out of apathy and need to decide whether to keep choosing each other.

In cycles of closeness and distance, I keep learning the fragile balance between holding tight and letting go. Friends who endure over time are like a piece of art built over a lifetime. A testimony of our life together; our friendships have made the intangible visible and expanded our worlds. Together, we have explored the miracle of being alive and what it means to be human. We have made art into a way of life. In the words of a friend, they are our existential map.

Friendships after thirty seem to be harder to maintain. But is it due to lack of time or interest?

Where did all my friends go?

In 2013, the first major [research investigation](https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0072754) was launched into online friendships. It was suggested that online friendships don’t have as much positive impact as real-life, face-to-face relationships. If anything, some of the data might have even implied that more online friends pointed to being less well-off in wealth or mental health. It might have been the first study of its kind, but it didn’t paint a pretty picture for those hoping to make lifelong bonds through the internet. Especially so for those who are either disabled, from an isolated community, or otherwise shy.

I don’t exactly have a lot of friends in real life. To clarify, I mean in a face-to-face sort of way. As someone with high-functioning autism, I always find myself to be the person who prefers to keep to himself under most circumstances. If there’s one interest I’m into that others might not have, then it’s a foregone conclusion that I will end up alone, minding my own business.

During my first year of university, I initially tried to join a group of students who have autism like me. Once again, I struggled to relate to much of the group until around November, when I simply focused on using the library for leisure and research. The membership fee for most student societies was a tad bit much for what they offered, so people like me, who are mostly frugal spenders, tend to turn away from such.

> That’s my social life, as depressing as it sounds. You feel left out no matter how many people know you; it’s like being forced to join a party that you never wanted to go to, only for it to last for years.

Enter Discord. I made an account in 2019 just to join one gaming community, although I forgot about it for nearly nine months. When the COVID pandemic broke out in England, I was forced to remain at home due to a lockdown measure. At that time, I was getting into a cartoon show that was managing to build up a fandom of teenagers and young adults. In February, I joined the community to just lurk and look at some fan-made works. It was around June when I started to talk there occasionally. In September, I decided to get more active, sharing whatever content I liked online for others to see and joining in with the inside jokes. That marks when, with a bit of geeking about indie music, I started a small conversation with another user. Let’s call them ‘Assassin’.

Here’s a caveat about my initial impression of online friendships back then. I genuinely thought they were a bit of rubbish and, at times, a slightly naive kind of relationship. I once had a handful of short-lived experiences with online friends from video games. Some of these relations can sometimes be forgetful or even prejudiced-tinged. Like phone numbers, they become graveyards of vague, anonymous names once known. As a result, you have a neurodivergent person who’s awfully picky about who to be close with.

::post[floatLeft]{#where-did-all-my-friends-go}

The first conversation I had with Assassin, someone who was interested in one other thing about me outside of just gaming, was a breath of fresh air. We were both interested in music that fits just outside of the mainstream. This was when things started to spiral for a bit. Assassin was friends with another user with even closer music tastes to mine, who was happy to talk about indie music with me. Then it escalated to me getting into an online social group, growing closer and more comfortable with each passing day. Now, I feel a lot more at ease with myself and with the friend group I have.

Such relationships have helped me feel better when sharing information with others worldwide. There are numerous benefits to having online friends. In [OECD](https://www.oecd-ilibrary.org/sites/11f6c5b4-en/index.html?itemId=/content/component/11f6c5b4-en), sociology professor Gustavo S. Mesch highlights its potential in “*improving access to information, knowledge and skills that are unavailable locally, and provide opportunities for diversification of social relationships*”. An article from [ABC](https://www.abc.net.au/everyday/how-online-friendships-compare-to-real-friends/11456856) mentioned that online media's largely anonymous side enables people to express their most vulnerable side.

We can see that as time passes by, online friends are starting to become more common, especially among the younger generations like the Millennials and Zoomers. A [YouGov survey](https://yougov.co.uk/topics/society/articles-reports/2021/12/16/yougov-friendship-study-part-five-how-covid-19-imp) highlights how the COVID pandemic not only led to many finding their friendships ending but also put more emphasis on contacting friends through either online, video, or phone calls. In a book titled [*How the World Changed Social Media*](https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1g69z35.14?searchText=online+friendship&searchUri=%2Faction%2FdoBasicSearch%3FQuery%3Donline%2Bfriendship&ab_segments=0%2Fbasic_search_gsv2%2Fcontrol&refreqid=fastly-default%3A67cefcc39bc6d2d477be06012cda8ac1&seq=1), numerous cited research points to how most college-educated people use online means to remain in contact with their friends after graduating. All this is on top of most people using it to make up for shallow offline relationships and curate their identity as authentic if they’re either from a country like Trinidad, or struggle to express themselves in a face-to-face scenario like me.

![A man on a computer smiling|2000x1333](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1686601813/post/gamer_ft7obw.jpg "It is possible to form emotional connections with someone on the other side of the globe. In many cases, these relationships are deeper than in-person relationships.")

Even as it becomes normalised among the younger generations, the idea of having online friends is still criticised. Many argue that it lacks the depth of connection that real-life relationships do, nor do they offer a form of security from pressing issues like becoming too needy. One could flag concerns about echo chambers when you confide with like-minded individuals over unverified information. If [Barbro Fröding and Martin Peterson](https://www.researchgate.net/publication/257560846_Why_virtual_friendship_is_no_genuine_friendship) have any say, you could wax philosophical points on how the value of online friendship is devalued when you consider Aristotle’s theory. When acknowledging honesty from someone you've never met in real life, the prospect of such a bond can be scary. So, what’s the problem with these arguments?

The key problem around the presumed ‘cons’ of online friendship is that such issues have been acknowledged in long-distance relationships [ever since ancient Greece](https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20220302-the-myths-and-reality-of-modern-friendship). As scary as it is to be deceived by a user with whom you would play a round of multiplayer games with now and then, lecherous and manipulative friendships have essentially been around as long as mankind has existed. Conspiracy theories and extremist beliefs existed long before the internet, documented as far back as 1863.

Numerous articles already highlight how friendship between people of varying ethnic, religious, or social backgrounds can reduce prejudice. Dr Angela Bahns’ [*The effect of diversity beliefs on friendship formation*](https://researchoutreach.org/articles/diversity-beliefs-friendship-formation/)’ highlights how a common belief in values can help diversify your friend group. The sheer amount of presence enabled by the internet will help ensure that you will find those you will feel comfortable with, people from other parts of the country, the continent, or even the globe.

::post[floatRight]{#solo-cinema-trips-are-not-admitting-defeat}

The points above on [Aristotle’s theory of friendship](https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/friendship/#NatuFrie) can now work on all three aspects. He breaks down the three factors of an ideal friendship as virtue, pleasure, and utility. As the younger generations lean more towards progressive change and are more open-minded in cultural divergence, they can easily find those who share their views. The prevalence of online gaming enables many to find pleasure in each other. Finally, a utility can be extracted through a reflexive approach in giving advice or looking through resources to address a concurrent problem that someone might be facing.

My fellowship with Assassin has sadly ended as they have moved on from Discord completely. However, this one experience allowed me to develop and change into someone I did not expect to become at all. It’s something that I will never take for granted; I now know people who are from Japan, the United States, Brazil, Romania, India, and many more.

Once mocked as being a worthless metric on one’s self-esteem, having online friends is now defined less by numbers and more by an emotional connection to those from the other side of the Earth. It’s weird to say it knowing how often we use the internet now, but it’s magical how we can learn more about differences through the eyes of what would’ve been a stranger. For all the fears, an online friendship is remarkable to keep as a memory, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once thought of as naive fairy tale nonsense, making lifelong friends through the internet now feels like a reality never seen before by older generations.

Online friendships are not a joke

The dimming lights, the darkness. The big screen in front of you illuminates and an echoing voice fills the room, reminding you in no uncertain terms to turn your phone off. You sink back into your seat as the opening credits of the newest blockbuster roll over you, and you lose yourself completely in the picture. Two or so hours later, you emerge from the darkness, blinking in the comparative brightness of the foyer. You thank the people behind the counter and go on your way.

What I have just described sounds like something that a lot of people would consider to be a fairly usual evening out. A trip to the cinema, perhaps to see the newest Marvel blockbuster or a rom-com. With prices for tickets skyrocketing in the cost of living crisis, it surely isn’t as frequent as it used to be but it is certainly common. However, take a moment to relive that visualisation again and work out exactly who you are with, in that scenario.

I learned recently that most people don’t go to the cinema by themselves by casually mentioning on a first date that it was one of my favourite things to do in the evenings, that I usually went once or twice a week. “By yourself?!” he exclaimed. I nodded, unsure as to why this was such an unusual thing. After this, I began asking my friends, many of whom were also shocked: the cinema is something you go to with friends, with your family, on a date. To our generation, it simply isn’t something you do by yourself.

It seems to have been drilled into us by years of childhood birthday parties at the pictures that going to the cinema by yourself is inherently lonely. That to do so is to have admitted defeat, to say that you don’t have anyone else to go with. I have texted group chats, trying to find someone to go to see a BFI release that is only playing for one screening because I was too scared to go on my own. Yet when you look at it realistically, if you were to see someone by themselves in a museum or an art gallery, or even in Primark, you wouldn’t think twice about it. They’re by themselves, some alone time. It’s self care and doing something you enjoy. Why is the cinema any different?

Dr Libby Watson, a clinical psychologist at the University of London [said in an interview](https://www.readersdigest.co.uk/health/wellbeing/the-key-to-happiness-spending-time-alone) that:

:::quote
“Alone time can be restorative and replenishing, providing psychological benefits in terms of stress reduction, understanding the self, and in identifying triggers of stress and other harmful states.”
:::

If you look at a trip to the cinema logically, it makes sense that it is something that you would do by yourself, as it is intrinsically a solo experience: everyone will interpret a film differently. You may go with someone else, but you will sit in the darkness in silence, and understand the movie in your own, deeply personal way.

It’s easier to organise as well. There’s none of the back and forth about when and where, which film you should watch, who is free on what night. You aren’t having to debate the merits of the different rows, whether the back of the cinema does genuinely give the best view or whether you should plump for the luxury VIP seating. You can make your own plans for what you want to see, when and where.

If we take doing so many other things by ourselves as self care - museums, shopping, even going for walks - why is the cinema still so different? Why is it still believed to be a lonely thing to do by yourself, even though you are unable to talk whilst you are there? Is it, perhaps, the fact that we are conditioned to believe that we should go with others? There are countless examples in pop culture of the cinema being used for friendship groups to meet up, or dates, with [*Heartstopper*](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt10638036/) being the first recent example to come to mind, even if that scenario does not end well for the characters.

Film and the cinema, especially independent cinemas, need our patronage more than ever. If Netflix is your way of switching off, maybe it’s time to try sitting in the dark, getting lost in the big screen instead. It can be put down as an act of self care, it is proven to reduce stress, and it’d be so much easier to organise than going with someone else. It certainly isn't easy to completely ignore social convention, especially in an age where the internet and the TV are telling you that what you are doing isn’t the norm. But if it’s what you love, then it can seem like a fair trade-off.

On a first date, I mentioned it was one of my favourite things to do. “By yourself?!” he exclaimed. I nodded, unsure why this was such an unusual thing.

Solo cinema trips aren’t admitting defeat - it’s self care

Solo cinema trips aren’t admitting defeat - it’s self care.

The feminism of Fawcett, Pankhurst and Davison is not the feminism of today. Today, the issues facing women exist in private and *in* their privates. Individual lives and sexual culture perpetuate patriarchal and regressive ideals about women and sex. Today, our challenges exist in the private sphere.

The most significant of these challenges? Sex. Only recently have sex and sexual culture been thrust into the forefront of feminist philosophy and discussion. It is in this culture that women are portrayed as objects and made to perform for a system of oppression more than any other aspect of feminist thought. The very act of sex has been moulded to male desire, and the very fact that we call it 'penetrative sex' - ignoring other sexual activity - is a testament to that fact. After all, it is only the penis owner who is doing the penetrating.

Women today are the inheritors of our patriarchal history. Today, our society is [burdened by the archaic idea](https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/dating-health/article/contraception-2022#:~:text=Isn%E2%80%99t%20it%20time%20we%20thought%20of%20contraception%20as%20more%20of%20an%20%E2%80%9Cus%E2%80%9D%20problem%20than%20a%20%E2%80%9Cthem%E2%80%9D%20problem%3F) that it is women and girls who have the responsibility for contraception and safe sex. According to [The Economist](https://www.economist.com/science-and-technology/2023/02/15/a-step-towards-a-contraceptive-pill-for-men#:~:text=H,overwhelmingly%20female%20issue.), "nuanced discussion" of the variety, merits and failures of contraception takes place frequently in female locker rooms, and rarely, if ever, in male ones. An [article from GQ](https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/dating-health/article/contraception-2022#:~:text=Contraception%20was%20so%20tied%20into%20the%20liberating%20of%20women%2C%20it%E2%80%99s%20no%20wonder%20there%E2%80%99s%20been%20little%20impetus%20to%20expand%20male%20contraception%20options%3A) suggests that the feminist movement may be, in part, to blame for this, as contraception and 'women's liberation' have been so intertwined that no one has cared to challenge the responsibility problem. Indeed, French feminist, writer and existentialist philosopher, Simone de Beauvoir, [demanded access to contraception and abortion](https://thedecisionlab.com/thinkers/political-science/simone-de-beauvoir#:~:text=de%20Beauvoir%20demanded%20access%20to%20contraception%20and%20the%20freedom%20to%20abortion.) as means by which women may be liberated from patriarchal dominion. Beauvoir's *Manifesto of the 343* - which called on 342 other women to come forward with their experiences with access, or lack thereof, to birth control and reproductive rights, and sign a petition - [led to the eventual legalisation of abortion in France.](https://thedecisionlab.com/thinkers/political-science/simone-de-beauvoir#:~:text=Her%20second%20contribution,at%20the%20time.)

De Beauvoir wasn't necessarily wrong, women's reproductive rights and unfettered access to abortion, contraception and birth control are very important to ensure sexual ethics and that individuals can take control of their own sex lives. However, we must break away from the idea that contraception is solely a woman's responsibility, we must move forward. Thanks to the wonders of science, moving forward is now looking like a definite possibility, if not now then certainly in the near future. Behold: the male contraceptive pill.

The earlier article from The Economist holds that the lack of options available for men, beyond that of condoms and vasectomies, is a reasonable explanation for the lack of male 'locker room discussion' around contraception. Compared to women, who ["may pick from a range which includes the Pill, vaginal rings, copper intrauterine devices, hormonal intrauterine devices, contraceptive sponges, cervical caps, spermicides, diaphragms, female condoms and tubal ligation"](https://www.economist.com/science-and-technology/2023/02/15/a-step-towards-a-contraceptive-pill-for-men#:~:text=may%20pick%20from%20a%20range%20which%20includes%20the%20Pill%2C%20vaginal%20rings%2C%20copper%20intrauterine%20devices%2C%20hormonal%20intrauterine%20devices%2C%20contraceptive%20sponges%2C%20cervical%20caps%2C%20spermicides%2C%20diaphragms%2C%20female%20condoms%20and%20tubal%20ligation.) there are very few conversation-starters for men.

![On the left, the Female Contraceptive Pill. On the right, condoms for men.|2000x1333](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1678745606/post/contraception_gender_ctkiwq.jpg "All but two of the contraceptive options are the burden of women. But “The Pill” may now become an option for men also.")

Well now it looks like we might be able to get one started. Scientific studies on mice have given experts reason to believe that a male pill taken shortly before sex is a real possibility. According to a recent survey, [over 50% of men would take such a pill if it were to become available](https://www.theindependentpharmacy.co.uk/contraceptive-pill/guides/male-contraception-pill-survey#:~:text=52%25%20of%20UK%20men%20said%20they%20would%20take%20a%20male%20contraceptive%20pill.), which may, in turn, make male contraception a breeding ground for innovation. The same survey found that a similar percentage of women supported the idea, as it would ignite a more ['equal spread of responsibility'.](https://www.theindependentpharmacy.co.uk/contraceptive-pill/guides/male-contraception-pill-survey#:~:text=Over%20half%20of%20UK%20women%20think%20male%20contraception%20development%20is%20a%20good%20thing.%20because%20%22it%20will%20encourage%20a%20more%20equal%20spread%20of%20responsibility%22.)Another study, this time by the [Harvard Innovation](https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/heres-what-men-actually-think-of-the-game-changing-male-contraceptive-pill_uk_63ef73b5e4b02c25737c7472#:~:text=and%20YLabs%2C%20American%20research%20institution%20from%20the%20Harvard%20Innovation%20Lab%20found%20that%2078%20percent%20of%20men%20worldwide%20and%2065%25%20of%20men%20in%20the%20UK%20would%20take%20contraception%20if%20it%20was%20available) Lab, found that 78% of men worldwide would take the contraceptive if it was available, in addition to 65% of men in the UK.

As you can imagine, these scientists have had their work cut out for them. Preventing millions upon millions of sperm from swimming is no small task. Yet, [by blocking a critical fertility protein](https://www.theguardian.com/society/2023/feb/17/male-contraceptive-taken-shortly-before-sex-shows-promise-say-scientists#:~:text=Study%20in%20mice%20suggests%20drug%20could%20temporarily%20stop%20sperm%20moving%20by%20blocking%20critical%20protein) - for up to [24 hours](https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/heres-what-men-actually-think-of-the-game-changing-male-contraceptive-pill_uk_63ef73b5e4b02c25737c7472#:~:text=a%20fertility%20protein%20for%2024%20hours.) - scientists have managed to assess that doing that just might be possible. All that is left now, are the potential side-effects, which, apparently, are the chief concern among men. Side-effects have long been associated with female contraceptives, but when weighed against the prospect of unwanted or unplanned pregnancy, breast tenderness, nausea and headaches seem relatively inconsequential. Apparently [47% of men would not tolerate the new contraceptive if it came with side-effects, especially those which affect their libido, or, sex drive.](https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/heres-what-men-actually-think-of-the-game-changing-male-contraceptive-pill_uk_63ef73b5e4b02c25737c7472#:~:text=47%25%20of%20men%20in%20the%20UK%20would%20not%20be%20willing%20to%20tolerate%20any%20side%20effects%20of%20contraception.%20Especially%20if%20it%20could%20affect%20their%20libido.)

> Are men truly concerned with the side-effects, or is it that their refusal to accept responsibility for safe, ethical sex is manifested into how taking a new contraceptive would rid themselves of their mojo?

I, however, count myself among the 53%. If taking the pill meant that I could have safe, enjoyable sex where there are no questions or doubts about responsibility then I'm all for it. Also, what's not to like? It's a simple solution, as opposed to putting on a condom or getting a vasectomy (either of which I'm still all for) - the only two options currently available to men. You'd certainly find this in my locker-room discussions, you'd have to get me in the locker-room first, but catch me in a library or Waterstones and we'll talk.

Am I concerned about the side-effects, chiefly, the potential loss of my libido? In truth, no I am not. Sex drive is influenced by biological, psychological, and social factors, and so the likely cause of any loss of my libido would be the stress from A-Level exams or the anxiety from university applications. Even so, scientists are currently working on [adding testosterone or a similar compound to the pill](https://www.theguardian.com/society/2023/feb/17/male-contraceptive-taken-shortly-before-sex-shows-promise-say-scientists#:~:text=To%20get%20around%20the%20problem%2C%20researchers%20have%20added%20testosterone%2C%20or%20a%20testosterone%2Dlike%20compound%20to%20the%20contraceptives%20%E2%80%93%20an%20approach%20that%20has%20been%20trialled%20in%20jabs%2C%20gels%20and%20pills.%20Although%20the%20former%20hit%20a%20glitch%20with%20unpleasant%20side%2Deffects%2C%20trials%20of%20other%20methods%20are%20going%20well.), keeping any loss of drive at bay. So, what's the excuse?

This would seem reasonable to most men, of course, as they don’t have to weigh up such side-effects with the prospect of pregnancy. It may be because of this, the pressure from greater consequence, that men have viewed contraception as a largely female responsibility. Indeed, women have also voiced their concerns, mainly [their reluctance to hand over responsibility as they feel their sexual partner may not take the pill regularly.](https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/heres-what-men-actually-think-of-the-game-changing-male-contraceptive-pill_uk_63ef73b5e4b02c25737c7472#:~:text=Women%20who%20took%20part%20in%20We%2DVibes%20study%20agreed%2C%20saying%20that%20they%20would%20find%20it%20difficult%20to%20give%20away%20responsibility%20and%20there%20was%20too%20much%20concern%20that%20their%20partner%20might%20not%20take%20the%20contraceptives%20regularly.) So, from the responsibility problem, we have the side-effect and trust problems. Of course, men are right to be concerned with the potential side-effects of new contraceptives, to a certain extent. Is it, though, that they are truly concerned with these side-effects, or is it that their refusal to accept responsibility for safe, ethical sex is manifested into how taking a new contraceptive would rid themselves of their mojo?

These concerns, however, do not remove the fact that social and sexual institutions - including the responsibility problem - need to be removed, and replaced by an uncodified system where safe sex is on the agenda of both partners. Well, finally, perhaps that is now possible. As in many times in human history, advances in science may serve to also advance the code of ethics by which we live.

So, our problems aren't equal suffrage, legal and economic independence, or the ability for women to succeed in the public sphere; rather, our present and future challenges exist behind closed doors - bedroom doors, specifically (or the kitchen, garden or wherever your passions find you).

Society is finally changing its views around sex and parenthood. We no longer view a key metric of adulthood as having children and starting a family. [A recent study found that almost half of Gen-Z don't plan on having children](https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/cost-of-living/almost-half-gen-z-dont-23484684#:~:text=Almost%20half%20of%20Generation,economy%20is%20to%20blame). This is why the new pill is so important in safeguarding couples' and individuals' rights to choose.

A male contraceptive pill would shift the burden of responsibility to the centre-ground between partners, and allow a truly enlightened society to develop from the recognition that some of us just don't want children. What do we get out of all of this? Choice.

Radical reform of sexual culture is now the brief of 21st century feminism, and it is from now that we can begin taking action.

Radical reform of sexual culture is now the brief of 21st-century feminism, with the male contraceptive pill providing more choices for couples and individuals.

What men really think about the Male Contraceptive Pill

What men really think about the 'Male Pill'

Men are unable to talk about toxic masculinity. At least, that’s what I gathered when I asked my friend for a second opinion on the topic. Even as close friends, we struggled above little more than a shrug of the shoulders and a closing comment - "there's not much to be said about it anymore" - which came not because he believes, nor do I, that it is a non-problem or because discussing it would be unbeneficial. And nor because he is convinced that we have already mapped the topic entirely. Instead, it was because most debates rotate around the same questions and approaches, focusing on machismo, misogyny, and how they manifest, rather than men’s inability to simply confront the topic at hand. In a dismissive and defensive manner, men shy away from challenging toxic behaviour. As such, it has become so conventional now that it makes up the patriarchal fabric of our contemporary societies.

From catcalling to the objectification of women, psychological manipulation to physical threat, or mansplaining to domestic violence, toxic masculinity underlies the social relations men and women assume. Even for the most humble, we assume courtesy for interest, mistake friendship for sexual attraction, and excuse emotions or behaviour with "man up" and "boys will be boys". Yet to challenge this behaviour is a challenge itself. I admit that in the beginning, what I had in mind was an article about what toxic masculinity is, how it affects people, and how to approach it critically. However, it felt too general. I realised that discussing toxic masculinity from a broad perspective would not have been as interesting and valuable as I had imagined. It would have been yet another redundant argument about stuff you probably already know and agree with. So, why not talk directly to men and confront them directly on our inability to engage in a debate. We men are too toxic to even talk about toxic behaviours. And understanding why is a password to change.

### "One cannot say anything, then!"

So, again, why is it so hard to confront people about it and why are men very dismissive or defensive about masculinity and toxic traits? The answer, I point out, is less self-pitying or arrogant than you would believe. It is already a manifestation of how our ideas of masculinity shape our response or silence. To put it bluntly, there is a "toxic masculine" way to address and discuss the topic, self-pitying or arrogant on the surface, way more complex in reality.

This is a significant problem of debates regarding "toxic masculinity" - we seem to be unable to talk about it. Many men feel attacked when confronted with the fact that they are members of a social category that *has been and is* privileged in most parameters: economically, politically, academically, and the list goes on. Some even cry out they are being targeted simply for being men. They often reply "but not all men!" or downplay ignorantly or maliciously the consequences of toxic behaviours for themselves and others. Discussing issues like "patriarchy", to use an overarching term, is of paramount importance, and turning your head away from social behaviours or structures will not help.

Examples? "But not all men!"; "But women themselves choose psychology instead of engineering, so they can't complain about the gender gap!"; "It's nature!", "Ben Shapiro is my role model" and so on. This is what I mean by turning your head away and ignoring, purposely or not, the question of patriarchy or masculinity. Feel free to add the examples that came up to you. But the question remains: why are we not able or comfortable to talk about toxic masculinity?

The inability to even be confronted with such questions is already symptomatic. The issue here seems to be that those understandings of masculinity – misogyny, aggressiveness etc. – we sketched above concur to create a very crystallised identity. If women assume behaviours and attitudes that traditionally have been male prerogative, it is a form of empowerment. The spectrum of characteristics widely accepted to be "feminine" grows. And hopefully, it grows until we, as societies, will not be able to separate between supposed feminine and masculine attitudes. However, when embracing other "non-traditional" behaviours, masculinity is perceived to be losing something. Whenever men are detached from their traditional identity, they are perceived as "less", less of a man, not manly enough, and so on.

Male identity seems to be viewed as something already "full" and "complete", with the dreadful consequence that every possible modification to the meaning of "being a man" is taking away from masculinity rather than enriching it. For example, being caring is not considered empowering for a man – even if it is – precisely because maleness is already understood as being complete and another feature added into the mix would be detrimental. In psychological terms, having a penis is already a complete identity, manifesting in different attitudes and behaviours, while other characteristics are forms of castration.

This is a crucial problem for male identity, as its characteristics and historical social position make many men believe that they can only descend from a supposed peak form of masculinity. And this is the exact definitory consequence of privilege. Not being able to talk about it is already a symptom of an understanding of "oneself" which cannot sustain redefinition. It is no surprise that many men are unable to discuss it – or even eat a banana – if what is a stake in their mind is their very self. They cannot accept contradiction because their identity has not the elasticity to do so. If they enter a discussion about it, they are already lost because, by simply being open to question, they would be conferring doubt to something that should be supposedly conclusive. They have a crystallised identity; A masculine identity cursed to remain bound within itself due to a "natural" state of things characterised by alleged natural behaviours, social or historical roles, or a combination of those. In this identity, they are unable to embrace multiple and different ways of being a man – or a homo sapiens for that matter – ultimately condemned to indefinite stoicism and prowess. You are a man, or you are not a man. There is no in-between.

### You don't have to be alpha

I want to bring a practical example to understand what I mean by crystallised masculinity in a more mundane setting. However, this will also be an example of how and why toxic masculinity is harmful to women or minorities, and to men themselves.

I want to draw from classic toxic masculinity discussions and incel-like debates to illustrate the point. The value of a person, and specifically a man, does not need to rely on the ability to interact with other people. This might be taken as an obvious and redundant discourse. But it is important. There is a strange conception in many men, consciously or not, that validation is directly linked to the ability to successfully interact with other people, both men and women. In other words: many people perceive that esteem, affection and eroticism equate to recognition. If, in the eyes of men, there is just "one way to be a boy", there is also only one way to be "seen" as such. And if you are wondering why some people freak out when ghosted or rejected, it is because their identity is completely constructed around being able to interact with others – mostly with women. When this aspect fails, it is almost like their whole being falls apart. Their identity is denied or dismissed.

As an identity that revolves around "success" and "conquest", toxic masculinity is strictly linked with sexuality such that being *accepted* as a man means being successful with the opposite sex. And if sexual success and prowess are core to toxic masculinity, it follows that a rejection on an erotic level is a failure on a personal – identity – level. Sexual rejection may resemble a personal rejection precisely because success and prowess are the concepts around which toxic masculinity revolves around and cannot escape from. If being a man means being successful, being unsuccessful is a sabotage of the very pillars on which a toxic masculine identity stands. And for many men, precisely due to a crystallised sense of oneself, being non-men means non-being.

### Man up and listen

I have no solution for this problem, it is bigger than me and extremely complex, but its consequences are very real. Honestly, I sometimes have suffered because of it in terms of my mental health, and also, I admit that growing up I might have said things that can be classified as toxic. It is so strongly embedded in our education and identity that even a person fully aware of what toxic masculinity is and fully against it, like myself, might unconsciously or unintentionally make a toxic masculine comment. There are some aspects of masculinity that can be harmful even without being explicit or denigratory. That's why we need to talk about it with more freedom; it is crucial both for ourselves and others. Mental health is what is at stake, and this is what we should be focusing on. We need to rethink our behaviour and be very critical towards ourselves and how we behave and what we say, even if our actions and words seem harmless.

I just wanted to share my thoughts on this topic hoping that it might help someone. It might not, but we need to talk about it. *We need to talk about and to toxic men*. We need to discuss, debate and confront each other about it. And if you, my dear reader, are thinking about it, this small contribution has already been successful. And, if my fellow XY chromosome owners are confronted with these questions, please just "man up" and face them. It's the least we can do, for god's sake.

Men are too toxic to talk about toxic behaviours. And understanding why is a password to change.

We need to talk about Toxic Masculinity

It has been two years since the beginning of the first UK lockdown. Initially, I remember, it wasn’t supposed to last for more than a few months at the most – my friends and I all assumed that things would be back to normal when we returned to university in September. I was even added to a group chat which was given the semi-apocalyptic name of *Lil party after the end*. As it happened, the end never came and neither did the party; many of the people in the chat had either graduated or were at home by the time indoor gatherings became legal again. Still, once the new semester started, I realised that my situation was infinitely better than that of the freshers whose first experience of independence involved living in prison-like accommodation and eating at tables set up in a manner which, when I saw them, brought back unpleasant memories of my old school exam hall.

University students formed one of the sections of society whose wellbeing was ignored the most. They only featured in the news to be blamed for the rise in cases in the autumn of 2020, or for a bit of sensationalism when they were locked up in their halls and fined for what had once been normal behaviour. There was a deep sense of public virtue in staying away from other people: we were saving lives, we were doing our bit for the NHS, and to break the rules showed incredible stupidity or extreme selfishness. But the narrative now seems to be changing. Even *The Guardian*, which consistently argued that government restrictions did not go far enough, has begun in the last months to feature pieces suggesting that [lockdown did the UK more harm than good](https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/jan/02/britain-got-it-wrong-on-covid-long-lockdown-did-more-harm-than-good-says-scientist).

It is important to consider the negative effects of lockdown, for on top of loneliness, mental health issues, and the [exacerbation of educational inequality](https://literacytrust.org.uk/information/what-is-literacy/covid-19-and-literacy/covid-19-and-literacy-the-attainment-gap-and-learning-loss/), the physical isolation it imposed created a world where children’s birthday parties could be interrupted by the police, but [where social services failed to detect](https://www.birmingham.ac.uk/schools/social-policy/social-policy-matters/news/2021/december-issue/harry-ferguson-on-lockdown-social-work-and-arthur-labinjo-hughes.aspx) the ultimately fatal abuse of a small boy at the hands of his father and stepmother. Somewhere, something went seriously wrong: measures implemented to save lives and preserve health stripped being alive of much of its joy and meaning, and the wellbeing of certain vulnerable groups was forfeited in the name of protecting others. It was an era in which good intentions brought about numerous inconsistencies; where reducing COVID-related deaths mattered, but where other risks, and alongside them the value of individual lives, were forgotten.

![Guardian Article|1200x750](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1648834080/post/long_lockdown_ebeq8v.webp "The narrative is now changing. Even The Guardian, which argued for more restrictions, has seemingly backtracked. Source: [The Guardian](https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/jan/02/britain-got-it-wrong-on-covid-long-lockdown-did-more-harm-than-good-says-scientist).")

Clearly then, cost-benefit analyses matter, but on their own the lessons that we might draw from them will only go so far. To understand the contradictions of lockdown, we must consider the wider issue of how they came to be, and in what context. A key development that we were facing in the West when the virus hit us was the decline of the Christian faith, which brought with it momentous change in social and moral understandings of the human person. Religion fundamentally shapes the question of what life means and what we ought to do with it, particularly within the context of preparing for death and eternity. At a time of unbelief where scientific progress meant that life expectancy was higher than it had ever been, we had been able to ignore this issue to a certain extent. But then we were suddenly confronted with a highly contagious new illness with no known cure, and thus the fleetingness of human existence returned to the forefront of our minds.

Seeing extreme measures brought in to protect our lives through our health services, as desperate and possibly as self-destructive as they were, was therefore no real surprise. Most of us were fully in favour of them. Though Christianity may be declining, we still believe in caring for others, even to the point of suffering for their sake. Nonetheless, in a world without God, other powers naturally take His place: this time, we trusted in the infallibility of certain scientists, and hoped in our governments to guide and protect us. The centuries-old tradition of Sunday church attendance came to an abrupt halt, and the weekly ritual of clapping for the NHS was born. We used modern technology to simulate the connections that we had been denied: it was the main component in the facilitation of prolonged lockdown policies and a replacement for almost all aspects of the pre-pandemic day-to-day. However, relying on it in such a manner led to a widespread sense of emptiness. It gave us the means through which to function, but COVID came too early for us to have determined in what measure technology could, or perhaps more crucially, *should*, replace ordinary in-person interaction – and much less to have come to well-considered conclusions about the extent to which the state has the right to enshrine such dependency in law.

![An NHS nurse’s account of a man denied visitation to his wife who died alone in the hospital. The quote reads: I remember 20 May 2020 vividly. I spent hours on the phone to a man who was in the hospital car park, utterly desperate to see his wife. He begged, wept, shouted to be let in, but we said no - for the greater good of everyone else. She died unexpectedly and alone, as the Government had a party.|1200x714](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1648834080/post/nhs_quote_cfyzfx.webp "An NHS nurse’s account of a man denied visitation to his wife who died alone in the hospital. There is something profoundly disturbing about denying the human social disposition of social iteration to the effect of forcing people to die alone in the name of the greater good. Source: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UKLabour/status/1481679941456515079/photo/1).")

It is primarily through physical or in-person interaction that we express our recognition of each other’s inherent value; it is how we foster respect, friendship and love in their most real and fullest sense. Lockdown restrictions took that from us, but when looking at the broader picture leading up to 2020, it becomes noticeable that the previous grounding for our understanding of the dignity and worth of each human life, influenced and moulded by faith, had to a great extent crumbled by the time COVID arrived. It was, again, too soon for any kind of firm general alternative to have been established. Earlier I touched upon the idea that obeying even the minutest of rules was of grave moral concern – the skeleton of Christian virtue ethics reapplied within the body of a new age, perhaps. In lockdown, the simplicity of these timeless principles gave way to distortion when complex and personal choices became subject to general, temporary, and often confusing laws. The precept of “Love thy neighbour” was used to deny the human social disposition and turn our physical nature into a mortal threat; the greater good of reducing death rates was deemed an acceptable excuse for implementing policies that [forced people to die alone](https://twitter.com/uklabour/status/1481679941456515079). There is something profoundly disturbing about this. Somehow, as benevolent as the intentions behind these policies may have been, they refused the respect and compassion that was owed to each of those who faced the end of their lives by themselves. It is a contradiction in terms to suggest that love can be fostered through distance from others which, when so prolonged in the spirit of fear, risks dehumanising us in the end.

Where death, disease, and significant cultural shifts come together, the best option might, in a state of panic, appear to be that of forfeiting the dignity of the individual for the welfare of the majority. The need to counteract our natural frailty with our innovative power can in such times create an outlook in which the ends always justify the means. Yet, two years on from the beginning of the first lockdown, it seems to be less certain that implementing rigid COVID-19 regulations for so long was in fact justifiable. This kind of consequentialist morality cannot guarantee the making of fundamentally good decisions, whether political or personal: somewhere in these crises, a balance needs to be struck between protecting the vulnerable and preserving what gives life meaning and value. Whether lockdown was worth it or not, I can only hope that our different experiences might help us to think more deeply about what that value is.

Somewhere, something went seriously wrong: measures implemented to save lives, stripped being alive of much of its joy and meaning.

Lockdown: When "Love Thy Neighbour" meant dying alone

:color[Lockdown:]{color=#ffffff} When "Love Thy Neighbour" meant dying alone

The last live Christmas carols that I heard have melted from memory. I now only recall the collective happiness of our village, huddling together in the frosted dark, swaying in unison with the angelic choir whose hymns warmed our hearts. It’s a Christmas we see in old paintings, Victorian cards, and festive models of snow-capped villages that you find in Garden Centres. They depict an almost idyllic scene; where neighbours hand-in-hand circle a vibrant tree in shared celebration and love, later enriched during a procession in their shared space - the Church. For hundreds of years the local Church stood as a citadel of the community; where people came together, communicated, caught up, and *cared*. All I can do is reminisce today, listening to “Good King Wenceslas”, sung from my noise-cancelling AirPods, whilst winding down from a Netflix binge and a dinner for one. Where once my community would embrace me in fellowship, my “Traditional Christmas” playlist is left to simulate the solidarity in which I once lived. My flatmate is doing the same beyond the 2-inch wall that separates us. For this is Atheist Britain. Where the name of your neighbour is not known; where being alone is normal; where community is dead.

The value of community should not be understated. An animate community is [integral to our happiness.](http://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.178.6504&rep=rep1&type=pdf) From our cave-dwelling days to our modern metropolises, a strong sense of belonging is shown to [reduce the risk of depression, lower the risk of heart disease, and increase life expectancy among other benefits](https://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780195187243.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780195187243-e-043). Yet, despite this, across the UK (and much of the west), our sense of community belonging is shrinking. Over a period of only 5 years, our feeling of inclusion has [decreased by a staggering 10.1%](https://www.theguardian.com/society/2020/feb/20/britons-sense-of-community-belonging-is-falling-data-shows), and our engagement within it has fallen by [just under 4%](https://www.theguardian.com/society/2020/feb/20/britons-sense-of-community-belonging-is-falling-data-shows); manifesting itself in fewer interactions (such as exchanging favours or stopping to talk) with our flatmates or neighbours. In consequence, a simultaneous surge in loneliness should come as no surprise. One-third of Britons now [report](https://www.forbes.com/sites/neilhowe/2019/05/03/millennials-and-the-loneliness-epidemic/?sh=5e1648187676) that they feel lonely *often or very often,* and [13% report constant and unrelenting loneliness](https://www.campaigntoendloneliness.org/spotlight-on-loneliness/). It's a problem inside a vicious whirlpool. For the more our community withers, the lonelier we feel; and the lonelier we feel, the more we withdraw from our community, so the more it withers. 

> How can we claim to have a community when we don't even care for our parents?

The decay is so extensive now that it has made its way into our culture. I mean, quite simply, how can we claim to have a community of neighbours when we don't even care for our very own parents? Today, the two people who raised us, who care for us, and who love us, are exiled at the age of 80 to a dimly-lit domicile of depression under the pretence that they can't wipe their own bums anymore. As they are locked in and left to wallow in their harrowing loneliness until boredom and depression rob them of life, we pat ourselves on the back for posting a picture in our local Facebook group of a dodgily-parked foreign car on our sacred high street. It is a disgusting irony - an atheist might say, "It is the logical thing to do - Social Care providers are professionals" - but just what is a community for, if not encouragement, strength and support, especially for your loved ones? The reality loud and clear is that in a globally connected world we are less locally connected than ever before, and this trend is likely to continue. So how do we solve it?

![Church of England confirmations are in decline](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1640098481/post/cofe_confirmations_kq2qgp.png "Membership at the Church of England has been on rapid decline since the 1960s, well before the internet. There are now only a few thousand confirmations to the Church of England per year. Adapted from: [British Religion in Numbers](http://www.brin.ac.uk/trends-in-anglican-confirmations-1872-2009/).")

Perhaps the answer to our neglect of community lies within the church, for it lays empty. Today, on average, [only 27 people](https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-7586379/Typical-church-just-27-people-turning-worship-congregation-numbers-fall.html) per week attend a Church of England service; and this is likely to continue falling. A British Social Attitudes poll [suggests](https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/1151679/christianity-news-christianity-at-risk-uk-religion) that only 38% of Britons today describe themselves as Christian and as few as [1% of 18-to-24-year-olds](https://www.bsa.natcen.ac.uk/latest-report/british-social-attitudes-36/religion.aspx) now identify as Anglican. For us young people this will be no revelation. The Church of England represents an outdated time, and its rapid and profound decline in membership is a reflection of its sluggishness, or even unwillingness, to modernise its practices. In an age and country of science, Netflix, Instagram, and sofas, a pew to partake in the world's most boring (and, to atheists, un-factual) literature lesson is unsurprisingly unappealing. To such atheists, the loss of faith could be reason to cheer. But the demise of the church has brought the decline of British traditions and the loss of a regular company. And at a time when social media dominates our discourse, when working from home is fashionable, and living alone is cool, the value of traditions and regular face-to-face conversation with the people around us — in essence, the value of the church — is even clearer. 

> If the church brought us together and upheld our sense of community, then its fall has brought these values down with it.

![Death of the church](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1640098591/post/death_of_church_laj0x6.png)

As an 11-year-old child, despite my severe disinterest in the church at the time, I felt this value myself first-hand. Going to church was infrequent even then. I found it dull. I dreaded the hymns. And the amble there was often excessive for my lizard brain. But upon my arrival at church service, as always and irrespective of my attitude towards the place, I was greeted with a welcoming and inclusive atmosphere. On one end, a grandmother entertained stories about my day and a middle-aged man fed me orange juice and snacks. And on the other end of the church, during the Bible reading, even the reverend made special efforts to spread joy to my face. Whilst delivering doctrine from the Holy book, he took out a toy tiger about the size of his palm and, at pauses in the scripture, opened its mouth causing it to glow pink and roar. It was hilarious at the time, and the young kids and I screamed with laughter to the probable dismay of the elders present; for them, the reading was a serious matter - John's words are the teachings of God after all - but the reverend took our inclusion as a priority. His trick, whilst cheap in retrospect, made us feel included, important, and even cared for by a wider people. And what better place to do so? The church brought the local people of our town together every week when otherwise they would have no reason to see each other. When they entered the church, they were transported to a place of peace; a respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life. They would congregate and catch up without contrivances or motives. There was no agenda. No "how can I help?". The ebbs and flows of each person's day-to-day were simply shared and celebrated. "How are you doing?" was not received with a one-word reply, but a genuine exchange of thoughts and feelings which extended into tea and biscuits in each other's homes. They spent time listening to each other’s triumphs and troubles, and offered an understanding arm. Skip 13 years later and much of the familial feeling towards our neighbours is gone. The only time we even see a glimpse of this "community" these days is at festivals or fayres - and those too are dissipating. Easter, Lent, Epiphany, St. Stephen's Day and Christingle (a yearly event that occurs on the last Sunday before Christmas) have all faded into obscurity. Long gone are the close-knit affairs of oranges and jelly tots, family gatherings and shared meals; replaced instead with outdoor pubs that we call Christmas markets. The truth is that with less tradition comes less culture, comes less connection to our local geography. And with less gathering comes less socialisation cross-household, and less connection between generations. If the church was the pillar that brought our people together and upheld our sense of community, then its disrepair and deterioration has brought these values down with it. 

> Christianity teaches us to "*Love thy neighbour*", but how many of us do so today?

If there is salvation, it is with the survivors of the church-going era, who are the only ones to uphold these values now. I remember fondly that, when walking back from school or church, an elderly woman named Joan who lived halfway from home and who came to the same service, would always invite my mother and I inside her house for tea and sweets. Joan was a spirited lady with a constant beam on her face and an excitable tone. Her home was as you might expect; dated and clearly Christian. Inside, we would simply sit down and chat ("High Tea", as we used to call it). On many occasions, our stay would outlast 30 minutes. Joan and my mum would gossip, laugh and listen to each other —  the chatter was raw and authentic — and they both valued and enjoyed it. But it all suddenly ended when Joan passed away. My mum was visibly disheartened that day and I haven't entered a neighbours house since. The spirit of community, which blossomed from her faith, died with her — and thousands like her. 

Because the church was for our community as school is for our brains; an education in how to live. And without the school and its teachers now, there is nowhere and no "how" community is fostered.

![Single person households are increasing](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1640098625/post/single_person_households_uf11fj.png "In unsurprising correlation with the decline in the church came a significant spike in single-person households. Ever since 1900, single-person households has increased. Since 1950, this increase appears to be exponential. Adapted from: [The Economist](https://www.economist.com/sites/default/files/images/print-edition/20180901_IRC193.png).")

So as a young man in 2021, I often spend day-after-day inside my flat, mostly without exposure to the outside world. Most of my friends live in different cities and working remotely means that I don't see colleagues. I ring my parents once a week and text my friends once a month. Like most, I tell myself that it will get better someday, but deep down I know it won't. The whirlpool will suck me in. No face-to-face conversations means no new people, and no new people means no face-to-face conversations. Granted, some of this (or maybe most of it) is my fault. But I walked past next door's occupant the other day and he ignored me too. The effort to foster a community is a full-time job now and all of us are employed elsewhere. There is a vacant role, left by the church and, without filling it, what hope is there? Youth centres have tried. [Meetup.com](https://www.meetup.com) has tried. Maybe the metaverse will try... but with greater connection to our technology the greater the disconnection to what is in front of us. Christianity teaches us to "*Love thy neighbour*", but how many of us do so today?  

The solution starts with our parents, our flatmates and our friends of friends. When we have a gathering we can leave seats at the table to anyone and everyone. When we eat a meal we can eat in the communal spot. When we go to the pub, we can sit with a stranger. When we are sat on the bus, we can chat with the commuter. And when we celebrate Christmas, we can turn off the television, lock away our phones and *actually* engage with our family. For the solution starts at home. Tradition lasted centuries for a reason; let's bring it back. For now, I'm going to take out my AirPods, knock on my neighbour's door, take a stroll with them to the church and listen to “Good King Wenceslas” live. I have a feeling that the magic will come back... or maybe it won’t.

This is Atheist Britain. Where the name of your neighbour is not known; where being alone is normal; where community is dead.