The Kids Aren’t Alright: The Decline of Friendship, and Niche Spiraling

Or, Why We Need to Return to ‘Frasier’

By guest author Andrew The First Called.

I) As It Stands

Things are more different than they have ever been, and not in a good way. On some level we all know this, even if we articulate it in different ways. The other day, I asked my class what they were doing over the weekend, and only a handful said they were going to spend time with friends, and an even smaller number said they were going outside. Later that night, I met a buddy at a bar, and we noticed that, although it is our favorite watering hole, we have never seen a guy ask a girl out there. Kids hang out with other kids on the weekend, and guys meet girls at bars. Anecdotal, yes, but I have the receipts to show this is more than a causal observation. Below are three graphs that show a decline in social interaction among young people. What the data shows is that young people go out less, have fewer in-person friends, drink less, and go to church less. Across all the typical ways teens interact, be it playing Xbox over pizza in a buddy’s basement, going out to eat, sneaking* one of Dad’s beers, or being active in a church youth group, there is a documented decline.

*As a teacher, I do not condone underage drinking; I am only pointing out that this is something teenagers have historically done, and have done in the context of socialization, the subject of this article.

Sometimes intuition is confirmed by data, and in this case it is true: young people are socializing less than they ever have.

A big piece of the puzzle is, of course, social media. Mel Robbins, who published a book on adult friendship, The Let Them Theory: A Life Changing Tool That Millions Can’t Stop Talking About, outlines three pillars of friendship that can be helpful for us here. First on the list is proximity. The reason why it was easier to make friends as a kid than it is as an adult is in part that, as a kid, you were always around people. In college, to use an example Robbins cites in interviews, you are 90% likely to be friends with the person in the dorm room next to you, but only 10% likely to be friends with the person who lives down the hall. It makes sense. We are lazy creatures, and the less energy we have to spend, the less energy we will spend. Only by forces bigger than ourselves (desire, fear, love, stress, etc.) are we moved to spend extra energy.

How does this apply to young people and social media? In terms of proximity, the phone is significantly closer to a kid than someone else his or her age. To go out means leaving the house, meeting with a friend, then going an additional distance to a destination (bowling alley, pizza joint, movie theater, etc.). On the contrary, to stay in bed and chat on Discord, Telegram, or post on X is easier because those “friends” are closer in proximity. In terms of energy output, it is significantly easier to stay on the couch, in your sweats, and post in a chatroom than it is to leave the house. An added benefit here is that, if something goes astray, the app can simply be closed… it is rarely that easy to leave a party, or a movie theater.

What happens when in-person friendship is replaced by online friendship? Due to the nature of algorithms, what you put in, is what you come out. If you give the algorithm a signal that you are interested in a given subculture, you will be driven deeper into that subculture. This creates a type of “niche spiral” where, over time, those who are chronically online become involved in a specialized segment of a subculture that is non-conversant with the subculture at large. Easy examples of this are found in the realms of politics and religion, where people on the same side of the political spectrum are not on speaking terms with each other because they have spiraled into such a niche. Readers of National Review and Chronicles, to pick on the right wing, are typically non-conversant, whereas on the Left, readers of the New York Times and Jacobin are equally non-conversant.

This “niche spiral” is reinforced by failed in-person interactions. If the majority of a person’s interaction is online, in an ever-narrowing subculture at that, he will, by habit, learn to relate in that subculture. Chances are, however, when that person decides to try and interact in-person, he will find that his stock of cultural references, jokes, and slang are lost on his interlocutor, creating an impasse, or maybe even embarrassment. After a failed interaction of this kind, our subject will retreat to the comfortable world of online relationships, further cementing the problem. When a large percentage of a generation begins to experience this problem, then we start to see it reflected in the graphs seen above.

II) National Implications

The word subculture is interesting, because it implies that they, the subcultures, exist under (sub) a shared culture. In the ’90s, both jocks and Trekkies, goths and punks, existed under the umbrella of “American culture.” To replace American culture with one of these subcultures would be impossible, and no one in those subcultures would advocate for that. A whole country dressing up like Spock, or wearing ripped flannel and listening to Kurt Cobain, while amusing, was never anyone’s dream. They were, rather, fun social groups that only could sustain themselves in the framework of a larger, national culture. In contrast, many of the present subcultures see themselves as — and are in many ways — independent from the umbrella American culture. Vegans often define themselves as against “SAD,” the “Standard American Diet”; the Left sees America as, if not an unredeemable oppressive racial-economic structure, something in need of serious overhaul; the religious Right will often say things along the lines of “If America were only [religion name], and if [religion name] were supported through [specific policies], then many of our problems would go away”; and even on the tech side of things, there is a sense that Silicon Valley could, and should, give the country a makeover. However right or wrong any of these claims might be, the point is that existent subcultures, as they stand, are not cooperative with, but stand in opposition to, a larger national culture.

Why does this matter? Taking what was said concerning the decline in socialization, the non-national character of these subcultures creates a problem for national change. If there is a national culture, and if everyone is working in that context, then ideas, arts, and industry work in concert to contribute to the shared culture. Now, there might still be subcultures, but if they are under that larger umbrella, and are cooperative with it, then, like a symphony, differences come together in a harmonious voice. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Adams, H.L. Mencken, and Wendell Berry, all very different people, with differing views on religion, war, politics, living, and relationships, lived under a common American culture, and helped contribute to that shared treasure. Their subcultures were not oppositional to a larger culture, and their subcultures, since they were not trapped in a niche-spiral of algorithms, were conversant with other subcultures.

Aside from the serious mental health damage that is likely being done to kids, the implication for our country is that the ability to contribute to — if not the existence of — an American culture is being threatened. The wheel of history will no longer turn, but will be stuck as the spokes splinter off and begin rotating in place, only to drop in the very same mud.

III) Return to ‘Frasier’

As a rule, I never like to lay out a problem without at least a stab at a solution. If I had the solution, I would either be advising people in D.C. or teaching at the University of Chicago, but, alas, I am not. What I do have is a glimpse at one possible way out.

My favorite TV show for the past year has been Frasier. For those who have not seen it, I would describe it as a classier Seinfeld, where the characters are not sociopaths. Everyone in Frasier is a fundamentally good person, and the life portrayed in the show is a life many would aspire to live. In the Seattle upper-class scene, Frasier and his brother Niles Crane are always involved in society. Be it squash, wine club, dinner parties, the safari club, or an art appreciation event, the Crane brothers are out of the house, finding the meaning of life in society interactions. Now, as the show points out, part of why Frasier and Niles are society people is that they want the prestige. However, vanity aside, there is something to be learned about how they socialize.

The Cranes are members of clubs with a great diversity of personality, despite a uniformity in social class. Something like a wine club has a certain economic barrier to entry, but not a social one. There is no value, no reference, no joke, that would be expected of a wine club member. The same is true with squash, or the safari club. Where the Cranes spend their time are places with a broad interest (wine, food, art, etc.) that allow for people who would otherwise not meet to mingle; and through this mingling, relationships, romances, and even political alliances are formed. Frasier will meet a state senator at the squash court, strike up a friendship, and then, a month later, that senator is sponsoring one of Frasier’s art events. In these broad-interest clubs, socialization across subcultures is possible, and the wheel of history begins to turn.

How these broad interest clubs are formed, and formed by young people, is another question, and the specifics likely will change on area. The problem that any attempt to “return to Frasier” will face is that it is always easier to stay on the phone. My hope would be that “if you build it, they will come.” If there is a club where everyone is welcome, and is known, then when someone decides to branch out, he will know where to go.