Olivia: In 1950, only about one in ten American households was a single person. Today, it’s nearly one in three, tying with childless couples as the most common household type in the United States. Jackson: Whoa, hold on. One in three? That’s a massive shift. It feels like we've undergone this silent social revolution and most of us haven't even noticed. Olivia: Exactly. It’s one of the most significant demographic changes of the last century, and it’s the central focus of the book we’re diving into today: Going Solo: The Extraordinary Rise and Surprising Appeal of Living Alone by sociologist Eric Klinenberg. Jackson: Going Solo. I like that. It sounds empowering, but also a little daunting. Olivia: It’s both. And what's wild is that Klinenberg didn't start out to celebrate this trend. His research began after the deadly 1995 Chicago heatwave, where he found that so many of the victims were isolated seniors who had been living and dying alone. He started by studying a tragedy, but what he uncovered was a much more complex, and often surprisingly positive, social transformation. Jackson: That’s a fascinating origin. So if it started with tragedy, why do we see living alone as so appealing now? Weren't we always told it's fundamentally bad to be alone?

Olivia: You’ve hit on the perfect starting point. For most of human history, living alone wasn’t just undesirable; it was seen as unnatural, even a curse. Klinenberg starts by reminding us of one of the oldest stories in Western culture. In the Book of Genesis, God creates the heavens, the earth, the animals, and after each creation, he declares, "it is good." But then he creates the first man, Adam, and for the first time, God says something is not good. Jackson: Let me guess. "It is not good that the man should be alone." Olivia: Precisely. And that idea—that solitude is a problem to be solved—is baked into our cultural DNA. The philosopher Aristotle argued that anyone who lived outside the community, the polis, must be "either a beast or a god." You were basically seen as subhuman or superhuman, but definitely not normal. Jackson: So you were either a monster or a deity. No in-between. That’s a pretty narrow set of options. It feels like that thinking still lingers, doesn't it? The idea that if you're alone, something must be wrong with you. Olivia: It absolutely does. And the book shows how this wasn't just a philosophical idea. It was a practical reality. For centuries, being alone was a form of punishment. Exile was one of the worst fates in the ancient world. And in the 18th and 19th centuries, prisons were designed around solitary confinement, which was described at the time as a "living death." The whole point was to use isolation to "augment the terror of the punishment." Jackson: Okay, but what about the American ideal? The rugged individualist, the lone cowboy, Thoreau at Walden Pond? We have this whole romantic mythology around the person who goes off on their own to find themselves. Olivia: That’s such a great point, and Klinenberg tackles it head-on. He argues that our romantic image of Thoreau is largely a myth. Thoreau went to Walden Pond, yes, but he was hardly isolated. The pond was just a couple of miles from Concord. He had visitors all the time, including Ralph Waldo Emerson. He’d walk into town for dinner. His mother and sister would bring him food and, get this, even did his laundry. Jackson: His mom did his laundry? Okay, that shatters the illusion of the self-reliant woodsman right there. So even our greatest icon of solitude wasn't really... solo. Olivia: Not in the way we imagine. He was deeply embedded in a social network. And that’s the key. The historical fear wasn't just about being physically alone; it was about being disconnected from the tribe, from society. For most of history, that was a death sentence. But in the last 60 years, something profound changed. Jackson: Right, so what was it? What flipped the switch and made it possible for millions of people to choose a lifestyle that was once considered a punishment?

Olivia: It wasn't one thing, but what Klinenberg describes as a perfect storm of four massive social forces that converged. First, and maybe most importantly, is the rising economic and social status of women. Jackson: How so? Olivia: For centuries, marriage was primarily an economic proposition for women. Without access to education or well-paying jobs, it was a necessity. But as women gained financial independence, they could afford to leave bad marriages or delay getting married in the first place. They no longer needed a partner for survival, which gave them the freedom to choose one for love and companionship—or to choose not to have one at all. Jackson: That makes total sense. Economic freedom creates personal freedom. What’s the second force? Olivia: The communications revolution. Think about it: a hundred years ago, being home alone meant being cut off from the world. Today, our homes are entertainment and social hubs. With television, the internet, social media, you can be physically alone but feel deeply connected to friends, family, and global culture. It turns the home from a place of potential isolation into a sanctuary. Jackson: Right, you're alone but you're not lonely. You can curate your social life from your couch. Okay, what's number three? Olivia: Mass urbanization. Cities are what Klinenberg calls "incubators of the solo lifestyle." They offer anonymity, freedom, and a huge variety of social scenes. You can escape the tight-knit, often judgmental, world of a small town and find your tribe, whether it's artists, tech workers, or, as the book hilariously points out, adult kickball players. Jackson: Wait, adult kickball players? Please tell me more. Olivia: It's a fantastic story from the book. He describes the "Brooklyn Kickball Invitational Tournament," where one of the top teams was called "The Non-Committals." The players were all in their twenties and thirties, delaying marriage, kids, and mortgages. They were living in this extended period of self-discovery, what some sociologists call a "second adolescence." Jackson: A second adolescence with better-paying jobs. So is this why things like adult summer camps and, well, kickball leagues are a thing now? It's not just nostalgia, it's a whole lifestyle choice. Olivia: It's a reflection of what Klinenberg calls the "cult of the individual"—a cultural shift where self-realization, personal growth, and freedom are the highest values. Living alone becomes the ultimate expression of that. It’s a mark of success, a sign that you’ve made it. But you're right to be a little skeptical. The book has been praised for its insights, but some readers have pointed out that this glamorous 'singleton' life seems very focused on affluent, urban, middle-class people. Jackson: Yeah, I was going to ask about that. It’s one thing to choose to live alone in a cool Brooklyn apartment when you have a great job. It’s another if you’re struggling to make rent or you're in a small town with few options. Olivia: Absolutely. And the book does explore that, especially in the later chapters. The experience of living alone is vastly different depending on your resources. Which brings us to the fourth and final force: the longevity revolution. We're all living longer, healthier lives. This means more years spent single after a divorce or the death of a spouse, which completely changes the landscape of aging.

Jackson: Okay, this is the part that I think really gets to people. The kickball and career-building phase sounds great. But the fear for most people, I think, is ending up old and alone. That's the nightmare scenario, right? Olivia: It is the great, unspoken fear. And Klinenberg doesn't shy away from it. He tells the absolutely haunting story of a woman named Mary Ann, who lived alone in Los Angeles for decades. She died in a hospital after calling an ambulance for herself, with no friends or family by her side. Her body went unclaimed for weeks, and she was eventually buried in a mass grave. Jackson: Wow. That is genuinely terrifying. That’s the story that keeps people in bad relationships, that makes them panic about being single in their forties. It taps right into that primal fear of being forgotten. Olivia: It does. But then, almost immediately, Klinenberg presents a powerful counter-narrative. He introduces us to Ava, a woman in her late seventies living in a retirement co-op in New York. Her husband died years ago, and her kids are grown. But her life is anything but isolated. She has a boyfriend, Victor. They go to plays, cook for each other, and even performed a duet of 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' at the community talent show. Jackson: A talent show! I love that. But what's the key difference? Ava and Victor live in separate apartments, right? Olivia: They do! And that's her choice. She says, "I can do what I want, when I want, and how I want." She values her independence fiercely. She has her own space, but she’s surrounded by a community. She has friends, activities, and a romantic partner. She’s aging alone, but she is not lonely. Jackson: That’s a tale of two completely different realities. So what makes the difference? What allows someone to be an 'Ava' instead of a 'Mary Ann'? Olivia: Klinenberg argues it comes down to social infrastructure. It’s not just about individual personality; it’s about the environment. Ava lives in a community designed for connection, with common spaces and organized activities. The book highlights innovative housing models, like the "collective houses" in Sweden, that offer private apartments but also shared dining halls, childcare, and libraries. They build community by design. Jackson: So it’s about creating options beyond the nuclear family home or the dreaded nursing home. It’s about building cities and neighborhoods that support both autonomy and connection. Olivia: Precisely. It’s about recognizing that millions of people are living solo and designing a world that works for them, rather than trying to force them back into a model that no longer fits.

Jackson: So, when you boil it all down, what's the big takeaway from Going Solo? Olivia: Ultimately, Klinenberg's most powerful message is that living alone isn't the problem we need to solve. Social isolation is. And for too long, we've been confusing the two. We've been trying to solve the problem of disconnection by promoting marriage and traditional family structures. Jackson: But the book argues that’s looking in the wrong place. Olivia: Exactly. The real solution isn't about pushing people back into domestic arrangements they don't want. It’s about building a society that supports independence and fosters deep connection. It’s about designing cities with more public spaces, creating affordable housing that allows for both privacy and community, and valuing the rich social networks that single people often build with friends and neighbors. Jackson: It really makes you think about your own neighborhood, your own city. Is it designed for connection, or is it designed for isolation? Are there parks, libraries, community centers? Or is it just a collection of private houses with high fences? Olivia: That’s the perfect question to end on. It shifts the focus from an individual's "problem" of being alone to a collective responsibility to build a more connected world for everyone, regardless of their living situation. And we're curious to hear from you. What do you see in your community? Does it make it easier or harder to connect? Let us know your thoughts on our social channels. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.