Boy, HN loves articles about solitude and loneliness. And it's a distinction that often crops up in discussion here.
I think there's a balance here, and cultivating some amount of loneliness -- not solitude -- is also good. For example, two people in my life are "Alice" and "Bob", who have been married for decades. Alice once told me that one of Bob's great weaknesses was that he'd been alone for too long in his teens and 20s. This had benefits: Bob's social needs are low to non-existent, and while he has loving family and friends, he enjoys sustained solitude. For example, weeks of overseas travel where nobody knows him and he doesn't talk much are great fun for him.
The downside was that he got too used to this. Engaging with other people is messy and hard to control. If you don't have that gnawing bit inside that's hungry for attention and connection, it's easy to decide all that mess isn't worth it. That can hurt people who need those connections more, as they may feel themselves weak or pathetic by comparison. Relationships with other people can become strained if you are at least approximately self-sufficient.
Briefly, my point is most people need (or at least want) to be needed. Somebody who's truly content with solitude isn't going to put that need out there, so relationships with such a person might be more difficult. Of course, too much need is another problem. But a little need seems good.
(This point is pretty tailored to the HN community, which appears to have a lot of stoicism and solitude devotees. I like both too, but I think the point above is worth remembering. The mutual exchange of vulnerabilities is an important component of close friendships.)
I agree, and I'd add to your definition to say that the ultimate bonding occurs through finding joy in the mutual exchange of vulnerabilities.
For example, last night my wife and I were not seeing eye to eye on how we saw our future. I was busy trying to make her see my side, but it wasn't until I was willing to give up and do things her way that she came around and agreed with my perspective.
It was not because I was wrong, it was because I wasn't recognizing her point of view, and that made her feel vulnerable. The joy we experienced mutually at recognizing one another's vulnerabilities is still–the next morning–a sublime feeling, the ultimate experience in life perhaps.
> weeks of overseas travel where nobody knows him and he doesn't talk much are great fun for him
This sounds like me. I once went to a week long conference where I realized at the end that during the entire week I could count on 2 hands the number of words I had spoken to other people during that time. I don't have the desire or need to speak with other people. I'm happy with my own thoughts. Or as Jane Austen wrote, "Her own thoughts and reflections were habitually her best companions."
>>I don't have the desire or need to speak with other people. I'm happy with my own thoughts.
I used to believe this about myself too. Then one day I came to the profound realization that I do in fact have both the need and the desire to talk to others. I had just been suppressing it by using my own thoughts as a distraction.
Well, I’ve been married for 23 years and we have 7 kids. Plus I have tons of friends. I have no problem finding people to talk to. But I know myself. I truly have no need or desire to talk to others.
As with all things when humans are involved, it is definitely complicated. A person who is alone and comfortable with that might be that way because they have a healthy philosophical outlook and derive their self valuation from objective places rather than through reflections of what others think or believe about themselves.... or they could be comfortable because they have retreated in fear from the evaluations of others, and out of a desire to opt out of the battle for social status not because they have any sort of realization about social status but because they are afraid of failing.
Humans are tremendously varied, and in any group that is comfortable with solitude you will probably end up with representatives from many different sources of motivation for that. For everyone, though, I think there is definite benefit in either seeking to know one's self better or in seeking to understand the outlook other people have. By default we pretty much assume that everyone is mostly like us and this shortsightedness can lead to some pretty nasty evaluations of others who act in ways incongruous with the evaluators own worldview.
The article mentions that we invest a great deal in teaching children how to be social, but fail to prepare them for being alone. I would argue that we don't do a very good job with teaching kids to be social either, but we do certainly invest a great deal more on that side of things. It's one of those sorts of things that would be very difficult to change. If the parent or other teacher is not comfortable with solitude themselves, the only way to equip a child with a better capacity for it would require the teacher to actively teach things that they personally do not feel to be true. Very many parents, it seems to me anyway, are not emotionally mature enough to tackle this. A child which is comfortable with and who seeks solitude is literally worrisome for most parents today. That's the "loner", the "quiet one" that all of the lists of 'warning signs' for everything from suicide to school shootings are topped with.
> A child which is comfortable with and who seeks solitude is literally worrisome for most parents today.
That is probably because success in society requires socialization. A child eschewing social interaction for solitude is missing the opportunity to fail socially when stakes are relatively low (even if they feel world-ending to the child). I don't want my child to go play with friends because I'm concerned about suicide or school shootings. I want my child to go out and play because I'm concerned about career networks, personal safety, and a lasting support network outside of me.
That's certainly been my experience. Relationships and friendships tend to fall apart if one of them is emotionally self-sufficient. The core relationship-driver of emotional neediness and desire that's apparently the natural state for many appears to be both the glue that binds and the carrot to actually bother building relationships in the first place.
> Bob's social needs are low to non-existent, and while he has loving family and friends, he enjoys sustained solitude. For example, weeks of overseas travel where nobody knows him and he doesn't talk much are great fun for him. ... It's easy to decide all that mess isn't worth it.
This sounds like me. I prefer — have learned to prefer — solitude, and prefer to enter human interaction only when I can withdraw from it at will without any awkwardness.
"The mutual exchange of vulnerabilities" often ends in bitterness, especially in cultures where putting yourself in a vulnerable position is seen as naiveté and the "streetwise" are ready to take advantage of those who do the former.
> For example, weeks of overseas travel where nobody knows him and he doesn't talk much are great fun for him.
I've lived the solo traveler lifestyle for nearly 4 years and I think this fits the portrait of most other solo travelers that I've encountered. But there's a bit more to it.
The article talks of solitude vs loneliness. I think that the word solitude does not even do enough justice to that longing. I've had people ask me if I don't feel lonely by traveling the way I do and what I answer is that I feel free. Freedom is the term that describes this state with the most accuracy.
In my experience solo travelers are comfortable socializing as long as their freedom is not threatened. For instance, I've resided in guesthouses where other travelers would stay for extended periods, weeks, months, sometimes years even. Similarly I've worked in coworking spaces where I've met other solo travelers. In all such instances they connect with others, engage in and even organize events and gatherings, etc. The bonds are genuine and can even be quite profound, like meeting a kindred spirit. A little community can effectively form. A community of people, sometimes alone, together. There's an implicit understanding though that we're just sharing a moment, people don't impose their agenda onto you. If you don't feel like joining the hiking party to the lake, you can just stay home with little guilt other than what you might be missing out on. Else strap on your boots and off you go. but Everyone has their own path and is writing their own story. You're the only one to know when it's time for you to close a chapter and start a new one. And when the time comes and you announce to friends that you feel like moving on to new adventures, nobody wonders why. People just get you. It's your time to go. Come departure day, hugs and kisses are exchanged, contact information shared, tentative plans to reconnect in some tentative future and place are made, all with no guarantee or obligation. Then it's Godspeed and Happy Trails to you!
I've also witnessed the bitterness that can develop when such solo travelers find themselves paired up for extended periods with someone who does not share those independent inclinations. Which could be what "Alice" was labeling a weakness.
> Relationships with other people can become strained if you are at least approximately self-sufficient.
If I (or anyone) is happier in solitude than in interacting with person X, it strikes me as quite patronizing to come to the conclusion that 'gosh, they may feel weak, better throw them a bone.' It simply means that the two people in question should probably seek out others to meet their respective companionship needs.
Self-sufficient people are not 'defective' any more than more social types are. People who are self-actualized do not owe more social people anything, any more than someone who craves social activity should force themselves into loneliness to meet the more independent person's wishes. They're just different personalities, and both have their own value.
>The mutual exchange of vulnerabilities is an important component of close friendships.
I do not think this is a universal. This has never been the case in any of my friendships, and I am not a misanthrope. I feel lucky to be able to say that I have lifelong, close friends, whose company I greatly enjoy. What we all have in common, even though we are all very different people, is enough comfort and trust in one another to be able to speak our minds freely, without any reservations, even when we know the other will disagree. The discussions that come of it are treasures.
Hmm, maybe I phrased my original comment incorrectly. I'm not trying to say that self-sufficiency is bad, but rather that loneliness is not entirely bad, and indeed a little neediness maybe appreciated by people close to you. I think at least low levels of this need are present in almost everybody, even many HN stoic types who've come to believe that true self-sufficiency is a worthy goal. Especially for those people, I think paying attention to that kind of loneliness can actually be good.
I don't think we particularly disagree overall- I completely agree with you in that most everyone appreciates feeling useful and helpful to the ones we care about.
It is just that I chafe at the word neediness. Speaking just for myself- If I were to suddenly succumb to the Bus Factor, I know all of my friends would be just fine. Sad, but fine. They don't 'need' me. (This is not a self-esteem issue- the same is true in reverse.) But this actually makes me feel good, in the sense that I have trust in them to carry on doing the things we all enjoy, even if something bad happens to any one of us. We still improve each other's lives while we're here! I feel that this is a healthy form of peer relationship. Compare that to a situation where someone genuinely 'needs' something about our relationship. At that point, it becomes more of a caretaker role, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but I don't personally see it as nearly as comforting, in either direction.
This comment might sound like I'm being difficult, but I'm genuinely asking.
You imply a downside for Bob in his avoidance of shared-vulnerability-relationship, you didn't explicitly state it - you said it hurts others who have expectations over him. Maybe the details of their marriage, which are none of my business, are where the answer is - but my question is: what is the downside for him?
Maybe the downside is that Bob will observe that others express displeasure at his behavior, having let down their expectations(maybe unreasonable) of him. Now Bob isn't callous by nature so this will weigh upon his conscience.
I think HN loves these articles because HN's users skew introverted. Like most of my friends, they love sharing articles like this or the "care and feeding of your introvert" which seems to make the rounds of my social media every few years.
If you think things like "Engaging with other people is messy and hard to control." - this is an introverted viewpoint. The assumption you are making is that engaging with people is draining, you need something to push you to do it or... you just won't.
I'm in a weird space - I'm an extrovert, but I functioned as an Introvert for most of my life. I'm transgender, so as a child and a young adult, I put constant and tremendous energy into conforming to my assigned at birth gender. It made every social interaction, especially with strangers, feel like a drain. I would much rather be at home playing video games where I could play characters I identified with or where gender was not a factor at all. It's part of what drew me to engineering to begin with; computers neither knew nor cared about your gender.
I'm not like that at all now. I go to large gatherings where I know nobody and walk out with new friends. I go to clubs, I date heavily, I dress flashy, I'm constantly interacting with new people and even an awkward mess of an interaction is a good story to tell. Even the video games I play are mostly so I can talk to other people about them. Engaging with other people doesn't feel messy at all to me.
What makes this really relevant is - growing up introverted, my choice of career (as an engineer) and historically friends has left me surrounded by introverts. Who totally misunderstand our motivations sometimes.
For instance, becoming a manager - going to meetings and interacting with people all day? That sounds like the dream. But when I say that it catches people off guard; doesn't every engineer hate those parts of management? Isn't the only upside of being a manager the ability to make decisions?
Or when recruiters are pitching jobs to me, all I really care about is the people, the position, how I'll interact with my coworkers day to day. I can learn a new tech stack. I can and have moved anywhere from front end to devops. But the reality is that if I don't like the people, if I don't have a social engagement to the work - ideally with a lot of pairing, mentoring, and other opportunities for social interaction - I'll lose motivation. Remote only is my worst nightmare, and "we split the work up and go off to our desks for a few days" drives me nuts. But the social environment is almost never pitched.
But Engineering is full of introverts, so it is a context where, for once, the extroverts are the rare and misunderstood breed :P.
> For me, the upside is in coaching and growing talent, or finding the right chemistry to enable work otherwise not possible.
Well then that makes two of us. Watching the junior people grow is among my favorite things. I have seriously considered teaching as a profession though economic incentives are what they are.
It's very refreshing to see such a viewpoint on chemistry. I've never even seen the chemistry be considered in any staffing or team decision (at least openly), or a manager put effort into fixing a broken relationship. It feels like interpersonal chemistry is almost entirely ignored in favor of skill set or basic resource allocation.
For example, I had a coworker I simply could not get along with (and the feeling was mutual). We were on a two person team so all of my work went through that coworker. I told my boss (repeatedly, over the course of most of a year) that I would rather work with anyone else in the company, and I needed to do so at least some because I was getting burned out. His solution was to make that coworker (on our two person team) my boss, since he didn't have time to manage the relationship.
It made sense from a pure resource point of view; the relationship was showing signs of needing managing and not getting it, so by promoting a new manager, that would happen. There were two of us in a somewhat isolated area, and nobody else really had the skill set for that area, so technically we were the best match.
But it totally ignored the people chemistry - the fact that the two of us would argue for hours over the most ridiculous things (quite visibly), and both feared the other's reaction to any work we did. I don't question my coworker's competence, we were simply on opposite ends of ideological extremes on too many things for that to ever have worked. It would have been far better to have me switch roles, split my time, train someone on the skills needed, just about anything else. The actual solution, naturally, felt like a slap to the face.
I like to think of it as an experiential stimulus maximizing function. Intelligent people may find it more stimulating to stay “closed-loop” but I’ve seen people open up to a great extent if/when they find something/someone with higher stimulus potential.
I think there's a balance here, and cultivating some amount of loneliness -- not solitude -- is also good. For example, two people in my life are "Alice" and "Bob", who have been married for decades. Alice once told me that one of Bob's great weaknesses was that he'd been alone for too long in his teens and 20s. This had benefits: Bob's social needs are low to non-existent, and while he has loving family and friends, he enjoys sustained solitude. For example, weeks of overseas travel where nobody knows him and he doesn't talk much are great fun for him.
The downside was that he got too used to this. Engaging with other people is messy and hard to control. If you don't have that gnawing bit inside that's hungry for attention and connection, it's easy to decide all that mess isn't worth it. That can hurt people who need those connections more, as they may feel themselves weak or pathetic by comparison. Relationships with other people can become strained if you are at least approximately self-sufficient.
Briefly, my point is most people need (or at least want) to be needed. Somebody who's truly content with solitude isn't going to put that need out there, so relationships with such a person might be more difficult. Of course, too much need is another problem. But a little need seems good.
(This point is pretty tailored to the HN community, which appears to have a lot of stoicism and solitude devotees. I like both too, but I think the point above is worth remembering. The mutual exchange of vulnerabilities is an important component of close friendships.)