Australia's "Loneliness Epidemic" is Real... But it's Not Simple

Published on 26 December 2025 at 17:00

“Loneliness epidemic” has become a headline magnet, but underneath the buzzy phrasing is a genuinely messy public health and social justice issue. Loneliness isn’t just “being alone”. It’s the felt gap between the connection you want and the connection you have. You can be in a house full of people and still feel like you’re speaking through glass.

And in Australia, it’s not rare.

  • ABS (2023): around 17% of people aged 15+ reported often feeling lonely.

  • AIHW summarising HILDA (2023): about 15% of Australians were “experiencing loneliness” (with small differences by gender overall).

  • Relationships Australia (2024): 23% reported symptoms of loneliness, and the report also breaks loneliness into social loneliness (37.7%) and emotional loneliness (22.7%).

  • Young people: evidence consistently shows higher loneliness in younger cohorts; one Australian report notes around two in five people aged 18–24 experiencing some level of loneliness (and more than one in five often/always).

So yes, it’s widespread. But the story we tell about it often gets the causes wrong, blames the wrong people, and proposes one-size-fits-nobody “solutions”.

Let’s do better.

Loneliness vs isolation vs solitude: three different animals wearing similar hats

Loneliness is subjective: “I feel disconnected.”
Social isolation is more objective: fewer contacts, fewer interactions, smaller networks.
Solitude can be neutral or nourishing: chosen aloneness that restores you.

These terms get mixed up constantly, partly because we measure them differently across surveys and studies. The Australian Institute of Family Studies has a useful overview of how definitions and measurement vary, and why that makes comparisons tricky. Australian Institute of Family Studies

Why it matters

If you treat every lonely person as “isolated”, you might prescribe “more socialising” when what they actually need is:

  • a safer relationship,

  • less masking,

  • fewer draining interactions,

  • a community where they’re understood,

  • or support with depression/anxiety that’s colouring everything grey.

The measurement problem: why tracking loneliness is harder than counting empty chairs

Loneliness is:

  • stigmatised (people under-report it),

  • context-dependent (a bad month isn’t a life sentence),

  • culturally shaped (what “connection” looks like differs),

  • and measured with different tools (single questions vs multi-item scales; different thresholds).

Australia also uses a patchwork of data sources (ABS indicators, HILDA, organisational surveys), each capturing slightly different slices of the experience. AIHW explicitly discusses data limitations and changing patterns over time.

That doesn’t make the problem fake. It just means: be cautious about “X% proves…” hot takes, and look for trends across multiple sources.

Myth-busting “male loneliness” without turning it into a gender war 

There’s a popular storyline: men are the lonely ones; women are fine.
Reality is more complicated.

1) Women often report loneliness at similar or higher rates

Recent Australian commentary drawing on HILDA highlights that women can report loneliness at higher rates than men, while also noting that men may be less likely to admit loneliness due to social norms.
AIHW’s HILDA summary also notes females aged 25–54 reported higher proportions of loneliness than males in that age band (a long-running trend). 

2) The real issue isn’t “men vs women”. It’s “how gender roles shape connection”

Many men are socialised away from:

  • emotional vocabulary,

  • help-seeking,

  • vulnerability with friends,

  • and maintaining relationships outside a partner.

If your main “emotional home” is a romantic relationship, then breakups, parenting transitions, work changes, disability, illness, or relocation can knock out your whole connection grid in one storm.

3) “Women can choose to be alone now” can be true and still not tell the whole story

Yes, compared with past generations, many women have greater legal and financial autonomy, and therefore more ability not to be in or to leave unsafe or unfulfilling relationships (however, this in itself is a complex discussion that deserves space of its own). That can increase the number of women living alone by choice.

But “independence” doesn’t immunise anyone against loneliness. In fact, many women experience:

  • loneliness inside relationships (being the emotional labour department + logistics manager + therapist, but not truly met),

  • loneliness after leaving relationships (especially with caregiving loads),

  • and loneliness amplified by poverty, disability, racism, or geographic isolation.

A healthier framing:
Women’s autonomy is good. Men’s connection skills are good. Everyone deserves relationships that aren’t based on need-for-survival or unpaid emotional labour, but on mutual care and respect.

The “popular but lonely” phenomenon: when you’re socially busy but emotionally alone

Some people have full calendars and still feel profoundly alone because they lack:

  • safe disclosure (they don’t feel they can be real),

  • reciprocity (they listen, nobody holds them),

  • belonging (they’re present, but not included),

  • shared meaning (no “my people” feeling).

And here’s the twist: some “socially lonely” people don’t need more interaction. They need:

  • fewer performative interactions,

  • more rest,

  • and a smaller number of relationships with real depth.

Relationships Australia’s split between social loneliness and emotional loneliness is helpful here: you can lack a network, or you can lack that person/people you can actually lean on. Relationships Australia+1

Neurodivergent and Autistic loneliness: often not a “skills deficit”, but a mismatch + exclusion problem

Autistic and neurodivergent people can experience loneliness differently because loneliness is not only about “number of friends”. It’s about:

  • sensory environments that make social spaces inaccessible,

  • repeated misunderstanding or rejection,

  • pressure to mask/camouflage,

  • burnout and reduced capacity,

  • and communities built around neurotypical social rules.

Research reviews on autistic adults show loneliness is associated with factors like anxiety/depression, negative experiences, camouflaging, lack of acceptance, and barriers like unemployment, while protective factors include acceptance and meaningful participation. PMC
Australian autism-sector resources also highlight that autistic people can experience more frequent or intense loneliness, and that “connection” often needs to be designed differently. Autism Spectrum Australia (Aspect)+1

Tailored solutions (not “just join a club”)

For neurodivergent people, “connection” might look like:

  • parallel play / body-doubling,

  • low-demand meetups (short, structured, sensory-considered),

  • interest-based groups (the interest is the bridge, not small talk),

  • online-first communities with optional in-person,

  • explicit consent around touch, noise, eye contact, pace,

  • relationships that don’t require constant availability.

The goal isn’t to force neurotypical social performance. The goal is belonging without self-erasure.

What’s driving loneliness right now (the boring structural stuff that matters most)

Loneliness isn’t just personal. It’s shaped by systems:

  • Housing and cost-of-living pressure: people move more, share houses with strangers, commute longer, have less time/energy for friendship maintenance.

  • Work patterns: casualisation, shift work, gig work, and remote work can all reduce consistent social contact.

  • Caregiving load: parenting, disability support, elder care compress time and shrink social worlds.

  • Digital substitution: connection gets “quantified” (likes, streaks, DMs) but not always felt.

  • Stigma: people hide loneliness, delaying support. Ending Loneliness Together reports high levels of shame and concealment about loneliness. 

So what actually helps? A menu, not a mandate

Think of loneliness like hunger: the solution isn’t “eat more”, it’s eat what your body needs.

If your loneliness is “I miss my people”

  • Schedule recurring, low-effort rituals: fortnightly walk, Sunday voice note swap, book club with opt-out, no commitments.

  • Choose “small and often” over “big and rare”.

If your loneliness is “I’m around people but unseen”

  • Practice “one notch braver” honesty with one safe person.

  • Swap advice-giving for mutual witnessing (“Do you want comfort, problem-solving, or company?”).

If your loneliness is “social burnout”

  • Protect solitude without shame.

  • Reduce high-mask settings.

  • Build low-demand connection: parallel activities, shared tasks, predictable time limits.

If your loneliness is trauma-shaped

  • Prioritise safety and boundaries first.

  • Consider support that understands trauma and disability/neurodivergence (because forcing vulnerability can backfire).

Community-level fixes (the part governments and organisations must own)

  • Third spaces that are free/cheap and accessible (libraries, community hubs, sensory-affirming events).

  • Transport access.

  • Disability-inclusive and neuro-affirming design.

  • Support for carers.

  • Programs that build connection without pathologising or patronising people for being lonely, or making demands of them either, for that matter. Demands to fit in, to say yes, to people-please. 

 

A “Choose-Your-Own-Path” Mini Guide

5 gentle questions to help you find the right kind of connection

Loneliness doesn’t have one cause, so it doesn’t have one cure.
Before reaching for advice, try pausing with these five questions. Your answers point toward different supports and strategies. None of them are “better” or “worse”.

1. When you feel lonely, are you mostly…

  • ⬜ missing specific people or relationships

  • ⬜ around people but feeling unseen or misunderstood

  • ⬜ overwhelmed by too much interaction

  • ⬜ exhausted, numb, or shut down

If you’re missing people:
You may benefit from reconnection. Small, predictable rituals with people who already matter can be more effective than meeting lots of new ones.

If you feel unseen:
Depth matters more than quantity. Look for spaces where honesty, reciprocity, and shared values are welcomed, not just attendance.

If you feel overwhelmed:
This may be social burnout, not “lack of connection”. Protecting solitude and reducing masking can be the most supportive first step.

If you feel numb or shut down:
Loneliness may be layered with stress, trauma, depression, or burnout. Safety and regulation come before social effort.

2. After socialising, do you usually feel…

  • ⬜ replenished

  • ⬜ neutral

  • ⬜ drained

  • ⬜ worse about yourself

If you feel drained or worse:
The issue may not be you, but the environments. Consider lower-demand, shorter, quieter, or more structured forms of connection.

3. Do you feel pressure to perform, mask, or “be on” to belong?

  • ⬜ often

  • ⬜ sometimes

  • ⬜ rarely

If often:
Loneliness can come from not being able to be yourself safely. Seek or build spaces where expectations are explicit, consent-based, and flexible, especially important for autistic and neurodivergent people.

4. What kind of connection sounds most nourishing right now?

  • ⬜ one-to-one

  • ⬜ small group

  • ⬜ interest-based

  • ⬜ parallel/side-by-side

  • ⬜ online

  • ⬜ none at the moment

All of these are valid.
Connection does not have to look like parties, networking, or constant availability. It can look like sitting near someone, sharing an interest, or sending a voice note once a week.

5. Are you judging yourself for how much or how little connection you want?

  • ⬜ yes

  • ⬜ maybe

  • ⬜ no

If yes or maybe:
That judgement often makes loneliness heavier. There is no “correct” amount of social life. Needs change across seasons, health, disability, life stage, and stress.

A reminder

Loneliness is not a personal failure.
It is information.
And the goal is not to force more socialising, but to move toward connection that fits who you are, how you function, and what you need right now.

A final note on “loneliness discourse” and blame

If your takeaway from the loneliness epidemic is “people are too picky / men are owed girlfriends / women are too independent / young people should just log off”, you’ve walked away with the wrong lesson.

Loneliness is not a moral failure. It’s a signal. Sometimes personal, often structural, always human.

And the opposite of loneliness isn’t “being surrounded”.
It’s being held in the world as yourself.

 

In Solidarity & With Care,

The Collaborators @ GRANN