This post is part of a new series exploring philosophical perspectives on loneliness. If you are interested in contributing to this series, please submit a pitch.
Humanistic concerns about loneliness have grown in recent years. This concern is reflected in the United Kingdom’s establishment of the Minister for Loneliness in 2018, charged with responding to the plight of over nine million people who frequently feel isolated from the vibrant social life that humans are naturally inclined to enjoy. Loneliness, in its many characterizations, often reveals itself through one’s unfulfilled longings for connection or by sentiments that remain isolated from social groups. To be lonely is to experience an unpleasant, often socially acknowledged unhealthy mental state, marked by a sense of disengagement that runs counter to the innate desire to grasp profound relationships within one’s life and the world around them.
Intuitively, and not surprisingly, philosophers are often perceived as lonely figures in the public imagination. The nature of philosophy demands the investment of vast amounts of time pondering, wondering, and navigating mental landscapes that diverge from conventional ideas. This divergence doesn’t imply that philosophers are weirdos; rather, their commitment to philosophical inquiry creates barriers to easy integration into everyday social life. At first glance, engaging in philosophy appears to necessitate a certain degree of loneliness, as philosophers are those who dedicate themselves to challenging and reshaping paradigms. There is a common perception among the public: the work of philosophers doesn’t always align with broader interests, and others may not readily engage with it or even find it intriguing.
However, perhaps this shouldn’t be how we think about loneliness and philosophy. Despite the features of loneliness that may seem to persist, philosophers often navigate their loneliness differently, which could even be positive in the context of philosophical inquiry. Many philosophers either embrace their loneliness, find solace in it, or simply do not perceive it as a reason for concern. In this way, philosophers may see themselves as leading solitary lives without experiencing loneliness—because being unpopular does not necessarily mean one is lonely. Loneliness and philosophy are not inherently incompatible; they often do not lead to a crisis of loneliness, but sometimes even a joyful mental state.
Why is it that loneliness might not be a concern for philosophy fellows? The primary reason lies in how philosophers view loneliness. The most famous philosophical view on loneliness probably belongs to Schopenhauer, who insists that loneliness is the ultimate lifestyle. As he spells out,“[a] man can be himself only so long as he is alone; and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.” Social beings are, in one way or another, wrapped up by the environments in which they live, making genuine freedom from external influences a rarity. Social beings often struggle to exist without social engagement, finding it hard to be visible without recognition from others as it often requires something tangible that one can grasp. However, for Schopenhauer, detachment from society isn’t frightening; it is a means to converse genuinely with oneself, devoid of pretense or constraints. A lonely mind is a genuine free mind that is capable of wandering beyond the influence of others. The power of a free mind “is the more active the less external intuition is directed to us by the senses. Long solitude in prison, or in a sick room, quiet, twilight, and darkness are beneficial to its activity; under their influence, it spontaneously begins its play.” Being lonely promotes intellectual reflection, especially for those with a quest for philosophical inquiry.
One might observe that Schopenhauer’s view on loneliness is subtly rooted in his notorious pessimism that the human will is nothing more than a pointless urge toward an indifferent world. Much like existentialist thought, he conceives of life as without a preconceived meaning; whatever meaning we ascribe to our lives is self-created but ultimately inconsequential to the world. We may think that the pain one might endure from loneliness is merely a reflection of one’s interpretation of the failure to forge deep connections with the world. Yet, in Schopenhauer’s philosophy, this notion of failure doesn’t truly exist, as there is no ultimate purpose attached to our existence. So why be bothered by loneliness at all? It seems that Schopenhauer discarded the notion of loneliness in favor of solitude—an intellectual endeavor that provides an opportunity to exercise the human will freely. For him, and for those who embrace solitude as a necessary companion, being lonely is often seen as a pathway to a fulfilling philosophical existence.
Another more descriptive interpretation comes from Philip Koch, who sees solitude not merely as a joyful path to self-discovery, but also as a means of reconciliation with oneself. As he puts it, “A life in which solitude and encounter, lived to their full intensity, find harmony and true balance.” One’s battle with loneliness is not a one-way journey; rather, it is through this back-and-forth tension that one learns to adapt to loneliness. There is no pre-established harmony between solitude and our inquiry into life; these two elements come hand in hand, defined by our varied experiences. The intensity of one’s desire for connection, contrasted with the failure to forge one, is the core of loneliness. Such conflictive sentiments marked by pain ultimately lead to the realization that learning to embrace the pain may be the best and perhaps only option. Yet, this process is often rewarding in unexpected ways, fostering both reflection and reconciliation with oneself. One can think many thinkers and artists are known for leading lonely lives but ended up concluding that their lives were wonderful, not painful. Nonetheless, one should note that solitude is not the privilege of a few geniuses; it is the destination Koch wishes we all eventually reach. The reason philosophers are more sensitive in finding them leading to solitude just that their profession pushes them harder in that direction than others.
Frankly, some philosophers’ attitude toward loneliness is just: I don’t care. Thinkers like Schopenhauer and Koch seem to imply that remaining trapped in loneliness is not philosophically approved. Both of them seem to suggest that when one is struck by loneliness, it may stem from a lack of acceptance or inclusiveness toward it. Loneliness appears to be an unavoidable state of mind, but it is not unsolvable. One can feel lonely in a crowd, and one can feel lonely even amidst fun and excitement; however, the battle with loneliness persists as long as one is entangled in the environments in which one lives. There doesn’t seem to be a way to end the curse of loneliness unless one learns to transform it into solitude. True liberation from loneliness comes from recognizing, from a philosophical perspective, that loneliness is inconsequential compared to the genuine freedom of one’s mind, which makes various creations possible. Once we are freed from loneliness, we may grasp something more valuable than simply seeking connections with those fundamentally different from us.
Returning to reality, although the curse of loneliness persists, the relationship between philosophy and loneliness is being modernized in today’s world. A lot of philosophers experience neither loneliness nor solitude, validating that loneliness and philosophy may not always go hand in hand. A lot of fellows of philosophy indeed lead very social lives, filled with intense debates, public discourse, and interactions with friends, students, and their wider communities. Solitude or loneliness is not the only way to engage in philosophy; contemporary modes of philosophical inquiry have become more pluralistic. Philosophy is no longer a mysterious and obscure discipline; it is evolving into an interdisciplinary field compatible with various sciences and social movements. Paradigmatically speaking, philosophy is not an entirely solitary discipline; it thrives on diverse voices and public engagement.
Kuo Bian
Kuo Bian (Bain) is a first-year PhD student at Tulane University, specializing in social epistemology and political philosophy, with a focus on international relations and public reasoning. He earned his M.A. in Philosophy from Purdue University and holds a B.A. in Public Policy from the University of Illinois Chicago.
