Virginia Thomas, Middlebury

Over the past few years, experts have been sounding the alarm over how much time Americans spend alone.

Statistics show that we’re choosing to be solitary for more of our waking hours than ever before, tucked away at home rather than mingling in public. Increasing numbers of us are dining alone and traveling solo, and rates of living alone have nearly doubled in the past 50 years.

These trends coincided with the surgeon general’s 2023 declaration of a loneliness epidemic, leading to recent claims that the U.S. is living in an “anti-social century.”

Loneliness and isolation are indeed social problems that warrant serious attention, especially since chronic states of loneliness are linked with poor outcomes such as depression and a shortened lifespan.

But there is another side to this story, one that deserves a closer look. For some people, the shift toward aloneness represents a desire for what researchers call “positive solitude,” a state that is associated with well-being, not loneliness.

As a psychologist, I’ve spent the past decade researching why people like to be alone – and spending a fair amount of time there myself – so I’m deeply familiar with the joys of solitude. My findings join a host of others that have documented a long list of benefits gained when we choose to spend time by ourselves, ranging from opportunities to recharge our batteries and experience personal growth to making time to connect with our emotions and our creativity.

So it makes sense to me why people live alone as soon as their financial circumstances allow, and when asked why they prefer to dine solo, people say simply, “I want more me time.”

It’s also why I’m not surprised that a 2024 national survey found that 56% of Americans considered alone time essential for their mental health. Or that Costco is now selling “solitude sheds” where for around US$2,000 you can buy yourself some peace and quiet.

It’s clear there is a desire, and a market, for solitude right now in American culture. But why does this side of the story often get lost amid the warnings about social isolation?

I suspect it has to do with a collective anxiety about being alone.

The stigma of solitude

This anxiety stems in large part from our culture’s deficit view of solitude. In this type of thinking, the desire to be alone is seen as unnatural and unhealthy, something to be pitied or feared rather than valued or encouraged.

This isn’t just my own observation. A study published in February 2025 found that U.S. news headlines are 10 times more likely to frame being alone negatively than positively. This type of bias shapes people’s beliefs, with studies showing that adults and children alike have clear judgments about when it is – and importantly when it is not – acceptable for their peers to be alone.

This makes sense given that American culture holds up extraversion as the ideal – indeed as the basis for what’s normal. The hallmarks of extraversion include being sociable and assertive, as well as expressing more positive emotions and seeking more stimulation than the opposite personality – the more reserved and risk-averse introverts. Even though not all Americans are extraverts, most of us have been conditioned to cultivate that trait, and those who do reap social and professional rewards. In this cultural milieu, preferring to be alone carries stigma.

But the desire for solitude is not pathological, and it’s not just for introverts. Nor does it automatically spell social isolation and a lonely life. In fact, the data doesn’t fully support current fears of a loneliness epidemic, something scholars and journalists have recently acknowledged.

In other words, although Americans are indeed spending more time alone than previous generations did, it’s not clear that we are actually getting lonelier. And despite our fears for the eldest members of our society, research shows that older adults are happier in solitude than the loneliness narrative would lead us to believe.

Social media disrupts our solitude

However, solitude’s benefits don’t automatically appear whenever we take a break from the social world. They arrive when we are truly alone – when we intentionally carve out the time and space to connect with ourselves – not when we are alone on our devices.

My research has found that solitude’s positive effects on well-being are far less likely to materialize if the majority of our alone time is spent staring at our screens, especially when we’re passively scrolling social media.

This is where I believe the collective anxiety is well placed, especially the focus on young adults who are increasingly forgoing face-to-face social interaction in favor of a virtual life – and who may face significant distress as a result.

Social media is by definition social. It’s in the name. We cannot be truly alone when we’re on it. What’s more, it’s not the type of nourishing “me time” I suspect many people are longing for.

True solitude turns attention inward. It’s a time to slow down and reflect. A time to do as we please, not to please anyone else. A time to be emotionally available to ourselves, rather than to others. When we spend our solitude in these ways, the benefits accrue: We feel rested and rejuvenated, we gain clarity and emotional balance, we feel freer and more connected to ourselves.

But if we’re addicted to being busy, it can be hard to slow down. If we’re used to looking at a screen, it can be scary to look inside. And if we don’t have the skills to validate being alone as a normal and healthy human need, then we waste our alone time feeling guilty, weird or selfish.

The importance of reframing solitude

Americans choosing to spend more time alone is indeed a challenge to the cultural script, and the stigmatization of solitude can be difficult to change. Nevertheless, a small but growing body of research indicates that it is possible, and effective, to reframe the way we think about solitude.

For example, viewing solitude as a beneficial experience rather than a lonely one has been shown to help alleviate negative feelings about being alone, even for the participants who were severely lonely. People who perceive their time alone as “full” rather than “empty” are more likely to experience their alone time as meaningful, using it for growth-oriented purposes such as self-reflection or spiritual connection.

Even something as simple as a linguistic shift – replacing “isolation” with “me time” – causes people to view their alone time more positively and likely affects how their friends and family view it as well.

It is true that if we don’t have a community of close relationships to return to after being alone, solitude can lead to social isolation. But it’s also true that too much social interaction is taxing, and such overload negatively affects the quality of our relationships. The country’s recent gravitational pull toward more alone time may partially reflect a desire for more balance in a life that is too busy, too scheduled and, yes, too social.

Just as connection with others is essential for our well-being, so is connection with ourselves.

Virginia Thomas, Assistant Professor of Psychology, Middlebury

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Piotr Winkielman, University of California, San Diego and Przemysław Marcowski, University of California, San Diego

When deciding if something is worth the effort, whether you’ve already exerted yourself or face the prospect of work changes your calculus. That’s what we found in our new research, published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: General.

When you consider a future effort, more work makes the outcome less appealing. But once you’ve completed the work, more effort makes the outcome seem more valuable. We also discovered that hiding behind this general principle of timing there are individual differences in how future and past effort shapes people’s value for the fruits of their labor.

What’s it worth to you?

In our experiment, we gave participants a choice between a fixed amount of money and a household item – a mug – that they could take home if they exerted some amount of physical effort, roughly equivalent to walking up one, two or three flights of stairs.

This setup allowed us to determine the value each person placed on the effort – did it add to or subtract from the value of the item? For instance, if putting in a little more effort made someone switch their decision and decide to go with the cash instead of the mug, we could tell that they valued the mug plus that amount of effort less than that sum of money.

We also manipulated the time aspect of effort. When the effort was in the future, participants decided whether they wanted to go with the cash or get the mug with some effort. When the effort was in the past, participants decided whether they wanted to cash in the mug they had already earned with effort.

As we had expected, future effort generally detracted from the value of the mug, but the past effort generally increased it.

But these general trends do not tell the whole story. Not everyone responds to effort the same way. Our study also uncovered striking individual differences. Four distinct patterns emerged:

1. For some people, extra effort always subtracted value.
2. Others consistently preferred items with more work.
3. Many showed mixed patterns, where moderate effort increased value but excessive effort decreased it.
4. Some experienced the opposite: initially disliking effort, then finding greater value at higher levels.

These changing patterns show that one’s relationship with effort isn’t simple. For many people, there’s a sweet spot – a little effort might make something more valuable, but push too far and the value drops. It’s like enjoying a 30-minute workout but dreading a 2-hour session, or conversely, feeling that a 5-minute workout isn’t worth changing clothes for, but a 45-minute session feels satisfying.

Our paper offers a mathematical model that accounts for these individual differences by proposing that your mind flexibly computes costs and benefits of effort.

Why violate the ‘law of less work?’

Why should timing even matter for effort? It seems obvious that reason and nature would teach you to always avoid and dislike effort.

A hummingbird that prefers a hard-to-get flower over an easy equal alternative might win an A for effort, but, exhausted, would not last long. The cruel world requires “resource rationality” – optimal, efficient use of limited physical and mental resources, balancing the benefits of actions with the required effort.

That insight is captured by the classic psychological “law of less work,” basically boiling down to the idea that given equivalent outcomes, individuals prefer easier options. Anything different would seem irrational or, in plain language, stupid.

If so, then how come people, and even animals, often prize things that require hard work for no additional payoff? Why is being hard-to-get a route to value? Anyone who has labored hard for anything knows that investing effort makes the final prize sweeter – whether in love, career, sports or Ikea furniture assembly.

Could the answer to this “paradox of effort” be that in the hummingbird example, the decision is about future effort, and in the Ikea effect, the effort is in the past?

Our new findings explain seemingly contradictory phenomena in everyday life. In health care, starting an exercise regimen feels overwhelming when focusing on upcoming workouts, but after establishing the habit, those same exercises become a source of accomplishment. At work, professionals might avoid learning difficult new skills, yet after mastering them, they value their enhanced abilities more because they were challenging to acquire.

What still isn’t known

Sayings like “No pain, no gain” or “Easy come, easy go” populate our language and seem fundamental to our culture. But researchers still don’t fully understand why some people value effortful options more than others do. Is it physical aptitude, past experiences, a sense of meaning, perception of difficulty as importance or impossibility, moralization of effort, specific cultural beliefs about hard work? We don’t know yet.

We’re now studying how effort shapes different aspects of value: monetary value; hedonic value, as in the pleasure one gets from an item; and the aesthetic value, as in the sense of beauty and artistry. For instance, we’re investigating how people value artful calligraphy after exerting different amounts of effort to view it.

This work may shed light on curious cultural phenomena, like how people value their experience seeing the Mona Lisa after waiting for hours in crowds at the Louvre. These studies could also help researchers design better motivation systems across education, health care and business.

Piotr Winkielman, Professor of Psychology, University of California, San Diego and Przemysław Marcowski, Postdoctoral Researcher in Decision Science, University of California, San Diego

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Peter Kasson, Georgia Institute of Technology

The measles outbreak that began in west Texas in late January 2025 continues to grow, with 400 confirmed cases in Texas and more than 50 in New Mexico and Oklahoma as of March 28.

Public health experts believe the numbers are much higher, however, and some worry about a bigger resurgence of the disease in the U.S. In the past two weeks, health officials have identified potential measles exposures in association with planes, trains and automobiles, including at Washington Dulles International Airport and on an Amtrak train from New York City to Washington, D.C. – as well as at health care facilities where the infected people sought medical attention.

Measles infections can be extremely serious. So far in 2025, 14% of the people who got measles had to be hospitalized. Last year, that number was 40%. Measles can damage the lungs and immune system, and also inflict permanent brain damage. Three in 1,000 people who get the disease die. But because measles vaccination programs in the U.S. over the past 60 years have been highly successful, few Americans under 50 have experienced measles directly, making it easy to think of the infection as a mere childhood rash with fever.

As a biologist who studies how viruses infect and kill cells and tissues, I believe it is important for people to understand how dangerous a measles infection can be.

Underappreciated acute effects

Measles is one of the most contagious diseases on the planet. One person who has it will infect nine out of 10 people nearby if those people are unvaccinated. A two-dose regimen of the vaccine, however, is 97% effective at preventing measles.

When the measles virus infects a person, it binds to specific proteins on the surface of cells. It then inserts its genome and replicates, destroying the cells in the process. This first happens in the upper respiratory tract and the lungs, where the virus can damage the person’s ability to breathe well. In both places, the virus also infects immune cells that carry it to the lymph nodes, and from there, throughout the body.

What generally lands people with measles in the hospital is the disease’s effects on the lungs. As the virus destroys lung cells, patients can develop viral pneumonia, which is characterized by severe coughing and difficulty breathing. Measles pneumonia afflicts about 1 in 20 children who get measles and is the most common cause of death from measles in young children.

The virus can directly invade the nervous system and also damage it by causing inflammation. Measles can cause acute brain damage in two different ways: a direct infection of the brain that occurs in roughly 1 in 1,000 people, or inflammation of the brain two to 30 days after infection that occurs with the same frequency. Children who survive these events can have permanent brain damage and impairments such as blindness and hearing loss.

Yearslong consequences of infection

An especially alarming but still poorly understood effect of measles infection is that it can reduce the immune system’s ability to recognize pathogens it has previously encountered. Researchers had long suspected that children who get the measles vaccine also tend to have better immunity to other diseases, but they were not sure why. A study published in 2019 found that having a measles infection destroyed between 11% and 75% of their antibodies, leaving them vulnerable to many of the infections to which they previously had immunity. This effect, called immune amnesia, lasts until people are reinfected or revaccinated against each disease their immune system forgot.

Occasionally, the virus can lie undetected in the brain of a person who recovered from measles and reactivate typically seven to 10 years later. This condition, called subacute sclerosing panencephalitis, is a progressive dementia that is almost always fatal. It occurs in about 1 in 25,000 people who get measles but is about five times more common in babies infected with measles before age 1.

Researchers long thought that such infections were caused by a special strain of measles, but more recent research suggests that the measles virus can acquire mutations that enable it to infect the brain during the course of the original infection.

There is still much to learn about the measles virus. For example, researchers are exploring antibody therapies to treat severe measles. However, even if such treatments work, the best way to prevent the serious effects of measles is to avoid infection by getting vaccinated.

Peter Kasson, Professor of Chemistry and Biomedical Engineering, Georgia Institute of Technology

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.