Focus on loneliness is unprecedented
When the British government appointed a minister for loneliness in January, reaction was decidedly mixed, even confused. Some found it hard to take the news seriously; others thought there was nothing funny about the issue. When latenight talking head Stephen Colbert tried to find the humour in it, his monologue fell flat.
The fact the appointment was made by a right-wing administration many consider morally and intellectually empty made the decision even more unexpected, especially in the U.K., a demoralized country where more than nine million people admit they feel lonely.
The idea that a Tory government — any government for that matter — would tackle the thorniest aspect of the human condition head on wasn’t just extraordinary, it was unprecedented. Understandably, public policy-makers traditionally avoid such existential questions altogether. They opt instead for a more oblique approach. Loneliness, for example, has economic, social, health, cultural, community and family implications. It belongs to all those ministries — and none.
On the other side of the spectrum, there’s happiness. The United Nations, which releases an annual list of the world’s happiest nations, bases its findings on per capita GDP as well as measurables such as life expectancy, social support, medicare and the like. Last year’s winner was Norway, a small country of five million with a sovereign wealth fund worth more than $1 trillion. Canada sits in seventh place.
As flattering as that may sound, a statistical construct like the GDP says more about the state than the individual. Perhaps that’s why the UN’s rankings barely resonate, even in the wealthiest of nations. At a time when the richest 1 per cent own fully half the world’s wealth, the GDP, the monetary value of all goods and service produced in a country or region over a specific time, can be particularly misleading. The U.S., for example, which boasts the planet’s largest GDP, has the second-highest rate of poverty among rich countries as well as the highest rates of maternal death and infant mortality. Life spans in the U.S. are actually in decline.
Clearly, wealth doesn’t buy happiness. But because costs are easier to measure than benefits, money tends to matter more to governments than value. Costs are also easier to cut than benefits. Reducing deficits is a goal all politicians extol, but what is the human impact? Does the happiness resulting from lower deficits outweigh the unhappiness created by the austerity budgets through which they are achieved?
On the other hand, the tiny Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan is renowned for its Gross National Happiness Index. Like the GDP in other countries, it is a measure of wellbeing. Following Bhutan’s example, in 2016 the United Arab Emirates of all places created a position of minister of state for happiness. But then, unhappy Venezuela created a viceministry of happiness back in 2013. And let’s not forget, the American Declaration of Independence claimed “Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” are “unalienable” human rights. Since then, the U.S. has slipped to 14th place on the UN’s happiness index.
So much for happiness, whatever it may be. Perhaps loneliness is more straightforward.
Perhaps it’s easier for governments to eliminate the negative and accentuate the positive. That might mean ministries of wellness rather than just illness, prosperity, not simply poverty, mobility instead of only transportation . . .
By focusing on loneliness, the British have apparently also acknowledged the huge role public policy plays in creating widespread feelings of alienation and disconnection, especially among the elderly. If nothing else, the U.K.’s change in approach might help eradicate the sense that government’s left hand doesn’t know what its right hand is doing. If reducing loneliness is the state’s declared goal, government priorities suddenly become clear and consistent. For instance, it will no longer be enough simply to chop budgets across the board as deficitobsessed governments are wont to do. That would only increase loneliness; from now on, the U.K. will require more nuanced and humanistic strategies.
As the British have discovered, a country that views its success in strictly economic terms can be overwhelmed by the price of that success. The cost of loneliness is simply too high.
It’s too soon to know what effect the U.K.’s new minister for loneliness will have, if any. But the announcement has people talking and asking questions, above all about the relationship between the state and individual: Just what is the point of public policy, of government itself? Does it serve us, or do we serve it? Christopher Hume’s column appears weekly. He can be reached at jcwhume4@gmail.com