Bowling Alone or . . .

. . . You've Got to Have Friends

You had to be careful not to get your necktie stuck in the ball return

 Ah, the Dog Days of summer. These hot (smoke-filled) days are a great time to ponder the mysteries of life. For instance, “How come my spouse (and let’s face it, usually the wife) cranks up the thermostat to 76 on cold winter days but complains that’s too warm on hot summer days?” or “Why is it that the more golf I play the worse I get?”  

Never mind, those are imponderable. Easier perhaps, we could also ponder this: What in the wide world of sports has happened to us. What? Oh no, I don’t mean That, not the present sad state of affairs with our government. No, let’s ponder this instead (sorry, more statistics): a 2024 survey found that only 27% of American men reported having six or more close friends, compared to 55% in 1990. Women, especially younger women, also have fewer close friends - although more than men. Experts call it the “friendship recession.” 

Perhaps even more "interesting," from 2003 to 2022, American adults reduced their average hours of face-to-face socializing by about 30 percent. For unmarried Americans, the decline was even bigger—more than 35 percent. For teenagers, it was more than 45 percent." 

What can we make of this? Bear with me.

My mom and dad didn’t have much money but they had a LOT of friends and they and their friends did lots of things together. They played card games like Rummy, Whist, Pinochle. Most were members of different clubs and fraternal organizations like the Lions, the Moose, the Elk, VFW, American Legion, etc. (mom and dad were Eagles.) And much more as you will see. I think that was true for many people of their generation, maybe even most. As important, their friends crossed social strata too. As a generation they also managed to agree on the big things and generally work together to get things done. 

So, what is going on with us "younger" generations? I’m not sure but I admit I am apparently POTP (part of the problem.) 

I'm on the backside of 70 and fortunate to have a lot more than six good friends yet outside of lunch, cocktails, or golf, I can’t claim the kind of relationships and activities like my parents.  I also seem to be allergic to joining anything - if you don't count 28 years in the air force. I have never even joined a golf league! Again, maybe it’s just me and perhaps I am the outlier but in talking to some friends it seems I am not alone. 

The next question is why have we changed? Please allow me to segue to an explanation.

Irene, Champion bowler, lower right

I have long kidded that I was raised in the gutter. No, seriously, I was. Mom and dad were both bowlers - I mean good bowlers.* My earliest memories are riding in the car from the little burg of Osakis up to the big town of Alexandria where mom and dad were in a bowling league at least a couple nights per week. (Bowling was very big then.) 

Splendid Splinter, upper right

I would often fall asleep in the spectators’ benches and wake up in the back seat of the '56 DeSoto. You know, just rolling around back there like a loose bowling ball. (I don't need no stinking seatbelt!) So what, you may ask, does this have to do with our disappearing very sociable, civic society? 

Segue complete.

In the mid-90’s, Professor Robert Putnam authored a book called “Bowling Alone” in which he called the close-knit social interaction (you know, like bowling) of my parent’s generation, “social capital.” He defined that as "the connections among individuals' social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them."

In other words, it simply gave people a much better understanding of their friends and neighbors - both their virtues and vices. Sort of like a civic lubricant. Which seems to me might be why Americans got along better, cooperated, and got things done. Anyway, he recognized that starting about in the 70’s there was a significant drop in this social capital so he proceeded to do studies. In his research he came up with several possible reasons, among them: more women went into the work force; people moving more; economic and time pressures, and suburbanization. 

It was probably some combination but in the end, he thought that   “. . . the main cause was technology "individualizing" people's leisure time via television and the internet." (I gotta say as an early baby boomer some of my earliest memories are sitting in front of big clunky tv with a dinky B&W screen so there is that.) He suspects that virtual reality helmets would carry this further in the future. (Well, duh.) 

Anyway, I don’t know if Putnam's causes or conclusion are totally correct but clearly something has changed in the way we all relate to each other. 

Oh boy, Captain Kangaroo in B&W!

The metaphor of bowling alone might be whimsical but it's an accurate way of describing this sad phenomenon.

Putnam isn’t the only one who recognized this change. Over 30 years ago a very dear friend, who has sadly left this spinning orb, suggested that we were turning into selfish little tribes worried only about ourselves and our families. A different way to say the same thing, I guess. Smart guy, way ahead of me. (Although I have my own theories that I may someday share.)

So here we are, the mid-2020’s and another generation has apparently learned well from us. We've gone from friendship to a tribalism that has been weaponized by politics, the media and our own loss of faith in the country (deserved or not.) We are the richest generations, living in the (formerly) greatest country in the history of the world . . . and now we have armed, masked gestapo disappearing people in broad daylight. Perhaps even our friends or neighbors.

                    

Seems that we’ve lost a lot more than our bowling partners.

Epilogue: One commenter on this article that ran in the 8/12 Star Tribune suggested that we watch "The Social Dilemma" on Netflix. That person is right. If you haven't seen it it is worth 40 mins of your time.

* I wasn’t a bad bowler myself. While stationed in England for Desert Shield I had some doubters, however, on my crew (actually just one guy who shall remain anonymous.) After an evening of adult beverages, I called his bluff. Off we went to the base bowling alley where, even though somewhat handicapped by alcohol - and not having bowled in 20 years - I proceeded to kick some pilot butt. (And magnanimously let him buy the next round.)

Got to Have Friends     Bette Midler

Thank You for Being a Friend   Andrew Gold