• 25 Sep, 2024
• Phil McAuliffe

Loneliness Owns You Until You Own It: Phil McAuliffe on Finding Connection in a Disconnected World

So, first of all, Phil, can you share your journey and what led you to become a thought leader in the field of loneliness? How did you decide to land in this sector of thinking?

Phil McAuliffe: Yeah, it’s a great question. I didn’t grow up wanting to be a loneliness thought leader. Indeed, I still don’t really know what a loneliness thought leader is. It feels like I’m making it up as I go along. But in many aspects, I’m here because I followed my curiosity. I did not want to do this; it felt like this chose me.

It’s hard to know exactly when loneliness started for me. Did it start in the playground of my primary school in regional New South Wales, Australia? Did it start when I went to boarding school just outside of Melbourne? Did it start at university when I didn’t feel smart enough in a tutorial of 15 other people who were really smart and knew what to say and how to say it? It’s hard to pinpoint when, but I realized I was experiencing loneliness when I was on a diplomatic posting.

My former wife and I had lived and worked in Venezuela, Darwin in the Northern Territory of Australia, Ho Chi Minh City, Canberra, Seoul, and Wellington in New Zealand. It was during my time in Seoul, as I was getting to my late thirties and about to turn 40, that something wasn’t right within me. Ever since I was 14, I’ve wanted to work in diplomacy, serve my country overseas, and make a meaningful contribution to the world. I got to do amazing things with the Korean and Japanese governments on behalf of my government, but something was missing from me.

Despite being happily married with two amazing children who were thriving, there was a void inside me. I speak English and have learned French, German, Spanish, Vietnamese, Korean, and now Māori. Words and I are friends; I love speaking and writing. But I couldn’t describe what was happening inside me, and how could I ask for help when I couldn’t describe it? The words I could use didn’t really fit, but I knew I needed to talk to someone.

I knew I needed to talk to a friend, not my then-wife, but a friend. However, I couldn’t think of anyone to talk to. It had been so long since I’d seen my friends face to face. I’m presuming it’s similar to conversations in Canada, where we catch up on the phone, talk for an hour, go through the checklist—work, relationships, kids, people we have in common—and then hang up. I didn’t have the words to say, “I don’t know how to describe this, but I just need you to listen.” And I didn’t have anyone to say that to, which really hit me.

A little while later, I read an article in the Boston Globe by a journalist in his midlife. The article talked about the emerging trend of loneliness in middle-aged men. The words “lonely” and “loneliness” resonated with me. I knew it was true, but I didn’t want it to be true. I spoke to my then-wife, and we went into fix-it mode, looking for ways for me to connect. It kind of worked but didn’t really.

I called my employer’s assistance line, the EAP service for counselors, and said, “Hi, I’m calling from Seoul, though we’re in Australia. I kind of think I might be a little bit lonely.” The counselor responded with pity, saying, “Oh, you poor thing, that’s not good!” I didn’t want pity; I wanted a solution. She told me, “You just have to put yourself out there.” I got mad because I felt she hadn’t been listening. I was a diplomat, representing my country, and I didn’t fit in Korea. My Korean wasn’t good, and my employer gave me only three weeks of language training.

The advice to “put yourself out there” was terrible. I had a big job, was a dad, and a husband, and out there was Korea. Where was the time to do this? I eventually went through a coaching program that helped me reconnect with myself. I started being more authentic in my interactions. I realized I was presenting different roles in my life, and the connection I was getting back wasn’t registering because I wasn’t being myself. It was a connection with a mask, not with me.

A lot happened over time. I recognized that I was gay, came out, and my relationship ended while we were in Wellington, New Zealand.

This started a whole process of connecting to myself. I began to boldly and courageously be myself in interactions, not hiding behind a mask or my job. I realized that other people around me didn’t have the words I now had but were experiencing the same feelings. So, I started writing and created “The Lonely Diplomat” and “The Loneliness Guy.” Now, through Humans Connecting, we know that loneliness feels terrible, but it’s hard to talk about it due to the stigma.

I’m here because I know how hard it is to talk about loneliness and how poorly we respond to it. From professionals, I learned that psychologists are taught about loneliness briefly, often just in a morning session. Loneliness is a natural human experience, but the response we often give is pity. Pity sounds like empathy, but it creates distance. When we say, “You poor thing,” it’s like saying, “I don’t want whatever is happening to you to affect me.”

We often try to fix it by suggesting activities like joining a choir or volunteering. But if we’re not being ourselves in those interactions, they won’t provide the connection we need. The common advice to “put yourself out there” focuses on the “out there” part, which is wrong. The emphasis should be on “put your self” out there. That’s why we’re here.

Magazica: Listening to you has shifted so many things in me as well. You’ve covered most of the common misconceptions about loneliness. How can individuals who aren’t professionally aware of it recognize the signs of loneliness in themselves and their loved ones?

Phil McAuliffe: There are a couple of ways to answer this. We can expect loneliness to come calling, and that can be a source of fear and dread. But we need to remember that loneliness is an entirely normal and expected part of being human. Humans experience loneliness, and we’re meant to. It’s our body’s signal to make us feel awful so that we stop and realize we need to connect.

We have two choices: we can fear it, or we can be bold and acknowledge that it’s an uncomfortable experience. Every human, no matter their job, location, income, or relationship status, is meant to experience loneliness. We most notice loneliness at times of change, such as starting a new job, moving house, ending a relationship, or during significant life transitions like changing schools or a global pandemic.

Knowing that loneliness presents itself in different ways, it’s hard to pinpoint specific thoughts or feelings as loneliness. However, rather than anticipating loneliness, we can focus on feeding connection. Identify the connection you need and factor it into your daily life. For example, choose a human-staffed checkout at the supermarket instead of a self-checkout. Even if you don’t say anything, you’re choosing human interaction.

For me, loneliness shows up in the stories I tell myself. There’s a particular loneliness in working on loneliness.

It’s an ironic loneliness of working on loneliness because it’s something everybody’s fascinated by, but no one wants to experience it themselves. Yet, we all have it because we’re meant to. As a social entrepreneur, I’m working on something that everyone thinks is great until they need it themselves.

Any entrepreneurial journey isn’t a Disney movie. It’s a cycle of triumph over adversity. Loneliness shows up for me in the stories I tell myself, and I’m particularly harsh on myself. I have this uncanny ability to make decisions by people I know or don’t know all about me. I can be both the antagonist and the protagonist in my story.

I’m getting better at recognizing when I’ve tipped from an event to feel like a fundamentally flawed human unworthy of love and belonging. I can make that leap quickly. We can anticipate loneliness and respond to it by knowing it’s meant to happen. Its job is to tell us we’re not getting the connection we need and deserve.

How loneliness shows up for me might be different from how it shows up for you, but there might be similarities. For me, it’s the thing that makes me feel unworthy of being around others. I want to isolate myself and push people away as a defense mechanism.

Magazica: The good thing about your conversation is that you’re really good at communication. You’ve answered many questions without me asking. It’s so good to hear you because there’s a paradigm shift happening in my head about how I see loneliness.

For our readers, is there any impact of loneliness on physical and mental health? You’ve already outlined some, but could you touch on it briefly?

Phil McAuliffe: We know that loneliness kills us. It kills us very effectively and doesn’t get the attention it needs. Loneliness left untended can develop into anxiety and depression. It’s not a mental health issue itself but an emotion that tells us we need to work on our social health.

Ignoring loneliness can contribute to developing cardiovascular disease, certain cancers, diabetes, and dementia. All for want of meaningful connection.

We talk more openly now than in the past about friends being on antidepressants or anti-anxiety medications. There’s a lot of support around the idea that it’s okay to not be okay, and it’s not weak to speak. These campaigns are fantastic, but we need to start talking about why many of us feel the need to seek treatment for anxiety and depression.

Magazica: The symptoms you mentioned, like dementia and anxiety, are backed by science. So, what advice would you give to someone who feels ashamed or embarrassed about their loneliness? How can they start having a conversation with others about their loneliness?

Phil McAuliffe: I find great comfort knowing that we already know the antidote to loneliness: connection. We’ve known this since we started being humans. Moving through loneliness requires connection, and connection takes time. It’s not something that can be quickly fixed like ordering food. We try to scratch the itch through hookups and dating apps, but it’s not the connection we need.
There’s a big push to find an AI solution to human loneliness. A lot of money is being invested in developing AI-generated tools that help us feel connected. However, I’m wary of this. AI and social media are tools for connection, not places of connection.
If the answer is anything different from human connection—connection with us, those most important to us, and our communities—then we’re missing the point. Using tools to help facilitate this is fine, but we must go through it rather than around it. Connection takes time, and busyness feeds loneliness and kills the connection. It’s common to hear people say they’re too busy to invest time in building connections, but busyness is the enemy of connection.

Like the slow food movement, we need a human connection movement. We should choose to spend extra time in meetings to genuinely find out what’s going on with people. Tapping a like on social media doesn’t create a connection. You feel connected when you use your phone to talk to someone.

We’re looking for an AI solution to loneliness, but the answer is in human connection. We need to create places and spaces that encourage people to slow down and connect. When we do this in workplaces, humans thrive, and those places flourish. The answer to more productive workplaces is to let humans be human.

Magazica: The first thing I’ll apply is to take five minutes after every meeting to interact with my colleagues. Phil, thank you so much for sharing your invaluable insights and experience. Your dedication to destigmatizing loneliness and fostering genuine human connection is truly inspiring. Wishing you continued success in your mission to help us all learn from loneliness and find authentic connections. Thank you again for joining us.

Phil McAuliffe: It’s been an absolute pleasure. Thank you so much for having me.