Are you contributing to the ‘loner economy’?
I was reading The Economist hoping to find a few highly intellectual opinions that I could potentially regurgitate as my own over family supper. It was here that I came across the term ‘loner economy’. The loner economy encapsulates the post-pandemic spending pattern which seems to be heavily focused on spending money on activities we are increasingly doing alone. Unlike during covid, where money went towards entertaining us at home, spending within the ‘loner economy’ does involve the outside world. We are still moving-and-grooving, just not so much with other people. This is more than simply a choice to take a taxi rather than public transport; it’s a societal transition into singledom that has influenced everything from our daily routines to our holiday choices (apparently searches for solo trips on Airbnb have grown by 80% in the last year).
So, what we all dreaded is true; the pandemic has changed the way we function. But maybe this is for the better.
It’s easy to suggest that humanity’s newfound desire to be alone is based upon fear. We have been scarred by the events which unfolded during the lifetime of covid-19. From being forced in by government officials to, by our own volition, isolating ourselves; lockdown somehow re-wired how our brains consider the act of interaction. This memory lingers throughout our daily lives, preventing us from ever truly attaining social normality as we once knew it. It seems the economy has finally forced us to accept lockdown’s legacy: an unconscious bias towards the introverted lifestyle.
But if this change was solely a consequence of fear why is consumer spending on services reaching new hights. From an economic perspective we can at least be confident in our happiness to be out-and-about again. So why are we choosing to do this alone if not out of fear? My suggestion is this: our experience during lockdown taught us something about ourselves that has irreversibly altered the logic behind our spending patterns.
Lockdown for me was an opportunity. A chance to turn off the unstoppable force that is life. To take a pause and just be content with myself for a short fleeting moment. The limitations in activities coupled with our inevitable desire to break away from our ‘bubble buddies’ meant we had to find pleasure in something so simple yet too often overlooked: our own company. Whether this was found through walks, baking, reading, or yoga, we all found some comfort in spending time with ourselves, and in doing so we got to know ourselves on a much deeper and insightful level. There were negative sides of this, overthinking the meaning of life became a routine occurrence in my brain, but what’s a daily existential crisis in comparison to becoming your own best friend (this sounds sarcastic, but I really do mean it). Upon re-entering the real world, we have refused to forget this time well spent and, with the help of clever marketing tactics, have found new opportunities to mix this newly discovered passion for being alone with our obsession with financially draining activities.
Then there’s the confidence. Being alone, whether your deep in the deserted countryside or immersed within a city’s lively chaos, takes bravery. People, even those you don’t actually like, bring protection. They protect us from loneliness. This fear is more than just the worry of being judged by others for being alone. We’re haunted by what loneliness signifies about ourselves and where we’re heading.
But what if loneliness wasn’t scary anymore. What if being alone became a state we actively sought out. This is where we are now, where Covid has inevitably led us to. Having to be alone gave us the confidence to discover it’s peaceful pleasures and realise its potential to both soothe and awaken. We have come to value our time alone just as much as we value time with friends. In changing what it means to be alone, we have also changed how we perceive the purpose of disposable income. If you would go out for a meal with a friend, why not go out for a meal with yourself? I don’t know how I’d feel about going on holiday alone, but I think (if money wasn’t an obstacle) I wouldn’t be completely against the idea.
There’s another argument which could explain the ‘loner economy’ that’s not so cheerful. When I was younger, I was at a party with my sister, when she asked a girl sitting in the corner why she was alone. She replied that she wasn’t, she was texting her friends. Is this the real reason why we so confidently go into a restaurant and eat alone? Have our phones become such an intimate companion that they’ve managed to completely replace the need for human interaction and, in doing so, eradicate the fear of loneliness? If this is the case, then I’d suggest we’re actually getting further away from discovering the joys of our own company, especially since phones now invade every waking hour of the day (or even sleeping hours for all you sleep-trackers out there).
It seems the truth must lie somewhere in between. Whether we are content alone or find ourselves accompanied by a shiny-screened friend, society has evolved from its fear of loneliness. The power that this fear once held was so strong it was reflected in the economy. Now we, and the economy, have been liberated from this need to not be alone. So, book your solo holiday, make a reservation for one, and do it all without the dread of being lonely, or at least with the comfort that you’re a phone call or podcast away from satisfaction.