Making new friends costs money. It’s worth it.

By Erin Lowry

Loneliness and social isolation are often discussed as afflictions of the aging process. Adult children move away, spouses and friends begin to die, and suddenly older people can find themselves spending an inordinate amount of time alone. The sense of isolation can have severe consequences for well-being. Studies have found that social isolation increases the odds of developing hypertension and dementia and even shortens life spans.

Except it isn’t only our aging population that is at high risk for loneliness. Young Americans age 15 to 24 spend 70 per cent less time in person with friends than the same age group did 20 years ago, one of many alarming findings from a report last year by US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy warning of the growing toll of loneliness in America.

These Gen Zers grew up communicating on smartphones and were already showing signs of decreased in-person interactions before Covid hit. By the time the pandemic waned, many people had gotten out of the habit of meeting up in real life and felt content with digital relationships.

Spending time in person is vital, as the surgeon general’s report made clear. It also requires commitment — of time, energy and, inevitably, money, whether for meals out, entertainment or other shared experiences.

Yet friends can have different values around how to spend their money, especially when they have wound up in starkly different financial positions in adulthood. (Note to the financially stable: Be sensitive to your friends’ budgeting needs. If you sense someone is avoiding meeting up in order to save money, suggest a budget-friendly or free option.)

Spending money, even modest amounts, to nurture existing relationships and pursue new ones is an important form of self-care and personal development. It should be thought of as an investment in a community that will grow through phases of life. Plus, friends can connect on areas of interest that romantic partners, children and families of origin might not. Families shouldn’t be our sole focus for socialization. Neither should the internet.

Engaging with friends and online communities can be a way of forging genuine connections, but it isn’t the same as face-to-face camaraderie. If the digital version of connection proved as satisfying and meaningful as in-person interactions, then Gen Z would be the least isolated cohort.

Yet it isn’t easy to establish new platonic relationships in adulthood. There are emotional risks around being vulnerable and reaching out to people.

Financial pressures make it tougher. Some 63 per cent of adults who earn less than $50,000 a year are considered lonely, according to the surgeon general’s report, compared with 53 per cent of adults who earn more than $50,000. Having discretionary funds won’t solve loneliness, but it does allow people to invest into activities that help build friendships.

Making new friends as an adult can feel a lot like dating. It requires being in situations to meet new people and then taking the leap to ask to exchange contact info. Eventually, someone needs to be willing to connect first and suggest a plan. And sometimes it means accepting that it might not be the right fit.

It should come as no surprise that dating apps have expanded into the friendship business. Bumble established a Bumble BFF category many years ago, but just last year launched Bumble for Friends, a standalone app dedicated to helping people find platonic companionship. Hinge, a dating app owned by Match Group Inc., funded an initiative that organized free or affordable in-person group experiences in a number of US cities.

Everyone who has tried signing up for an activity hoping to meet people knows how uncomfortable those situations can be. Amateur sports leagues are surprisingly competitive. Affinity groups can feel as cliquish and unwelcoming as junior high. Plus, most activities come with a fee. Joining can seem like a bad investment of both time and money.

Trying out a new activity also requires a level of vulnerability to publicly fail. I experienced this firsthand when I joined a class marketed as tap dance for absolute beginners. While most in the class were novices like me, I quickly discovered that I have zero talent for tap and had to embrace the discomfort of stumbling along in front of 15 other adults week after week. But my lack of ability also allowed me to bond me with a few similarly two-footed classmates and even led to some outside-of-class happy hours and walks.

Fear of embarrassment combined with the potential cost can keep people tethered to their devices. Social media and other online forums provide a sense of community, and there’s certainly a niche for every possible area of interest.

There’s nothing wrong with finding friends this way. Just meet up in person every once and awhile, even if it means opening your wallet, to combat the toll of isolation and loneliness.