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Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Sunday, November 23, 2025

What America’s Declining Happiness Means — and How Higher Education Fits In

A recent report has sounded an alarm: happiness in the United States is falling more sharply than in almost every other developed nation. According to coverage by CBS News, Americans increasingly report loneliness, deep political division, and diminished life satisfaction. While this trend is worrying in itself, a closer look shows that it’s not just a problem of individual melancholy — it reflects a broader weakening of social structures, civic trust, and community cohesion. Historically, these phenomena have been central to the nation’s sense of coherence; now, they may be eroding.

Historical Roots and the Social Capital Framework

To understand the scale of what’s happening, it helps to go back. Over two decades ago, Robert D. Putnam’s seminal Bowling Alone documented a dramatic decline in American “social capital” — the network of associations, civic participation, and interpersonal trust that undergirds a functioning democracy. Putnam traced declines in everything from civic organizations to informal social gatherings, arguing that this fraying of social infrastructure had profound consequences. 

Social capital theory provides a useful lens here: trust between citizens, engagement in local institutions, and time spent in shared civic life are not just feel‑good extras, but foundations for collective resilience.

Later empirical work has revisited these concerns. Weiss, Paxton, Velasco, and Ressler (2018) developed a newer measure of social capital and found evidence that the decline persists. Inequality also appears to play a role: as income gaps widen, interpersonal trust tends to decrease. In research published in Finance & Development, economists found that rising inequality explained a substantial portion of the decline in social trust in the United States.

More recently, political scientists have documented how perceived political polarization erodes social trust. In a nationally representative panel study, Amber Hye‑Yon Lee showed that when people believe their country is deeply divided, their trust in fellow citizens drops — even beyond partisan loyalties. Pew Research Center data further illustrate this generational shift: younger cohorts, raised in a more polarized and atomized society, report lower social trust than earlier generations. 

At the same time, the digital revolution hasn’t necessarily filled the gap. Sabatini and Sarracino (2014) found that while people are more active on social media, this does not compensate for lost in-person connection — and may even undermine trust. During the COVID-19 pandemic, researchers observed increased remote communication, but also stronger political echo chambers: in a study of 41,000 Americans’ social networks, political homophily (interacting mostly with those who share one’s partisan identity) increased. 

Well-Being, Health, and Mortality

The decline in social trust and cohesion is not just a sociological problem — it is deeply linked to health. A growing body of epidemiological research ties subjective well‑being to longevity and mortality. For instance, a widely cited study by Lawrence, Rogers, and Wadsworth found that lower happiness is associated with higher all‑cause mortality risk in U.S. adults. In another longitudinal study, researchers followed more than 30,000 adults over 14 years and found that individuals with low life satisfaction lived, on average, 8–10 years less than those with high satisfaction — even after controlling for sociodemographic and behavioral variables. 

These findings suggest that declining happiness is not just a matter of mental distress or cultural malaise — it translates into concrete health inequities and life expectancy gaps.

Recent Trends and the Global Context

Over the past decade, the United States has slid in global happiness rankings, according to the World Happiness Report. Some analyses suggest that the U.S. now falls behind peer nations on measures of life evaluation, meaning that Americans are increasingly less satisfied with their lives in a broad, reflective sense. 

Meanwhile, epidemiological studies of happy life expectancy — the number of years people spend in a state of subjective well‑being — show that although well-being improved from 1970–2000, gains were uneven by race and gender. The recent reversal or stagnation in happiness is thus especially alarming in light of these prior gains.

The Role of Higher Education: Past, Present, and Potential Futures

Given this historical and empirical context, higher education institutions have a complex and potentially pivotal role in responding to declining well-being.

On one hand, universities could help rebuild social capital. Institutions of higher learning have unique capacity to foster cross-partisan civic engagement, to embed community-building in pedagogy, and to support students’ social and emotional development. By investing in mental health infrastructure, peer networks, and service-based learning, colleges could act as local laboratories for restoring trust and social cohesion.

Higher education also has a research function: universities can produce evidence about what strengthens well-being, what interventions mitigate loneliness or political fragmentation, and how different models of community engagement impact long-term health outcomes. Through partnerships with public policy institutions, universities can help translate these findings into programs that bolster social infrastructure outside campus walls.

However, higher education also runs risks. If institutions remain fragmented, politically polarized, or focused on prestige rather than public mission, they may contribute to social fragmentation rather than healing it. Elite universities, in particular, may be perceived as disconnected from broader communities, undermining trust rather than reinforcing it. In such a scenario, higher education may reproduce the very inequalities and isolation that are driving declining well‑being.

Moreover, without deliberate strategies, campus networks may reinforce echo chambers: social connections among students may mirror broader partisan divides, especially in environments where political homogeneity is common.

Health Equity Implications

The decline in American happiness intersects directly with issues of health equity. Lower well-being and eroded trust disproportionately affect marginalized communities — those with fewer economic resources, less social support, and weaker civic infrastructure. When universities take an active role in promoting well-being and rebuilding social capital, they not only support individual students but may contribute to reducing structural health disparities.

Conversely, if higher education plays a passive role, or if access to supportive, socially rich campus environments is limited to privileged groups, the decline in happiness may deepen existing inequities. The gap in life expectancy tied to subjective well-being suggests that we cannot ignore the social determinants of happiness: economic inequality, community fragmentation, political polarization, and institutional trust all matter.

A Call to Action

To address this crisis, higher education leaders, policymakers, and public health practitioners should consider the following:

  1. Reinforce community-building: Colleges should invest in programs that promote cross-group interaction, civic participation, and social trust.

  2. Prioritize mental health: Expand counseling, peer support, and proactive well-being initiatives, especially for students who might otherwise fall through the cracks.

  3. Align research with public value: Fund and promote research on social cohesion, well-being interventions, and the relationship between trust and health, and ensure that findings inform public policy.

  4. Foster institutional humility and outreach: Universities should engage with local communities, not as isolated centers of prestige, but as partners in building social infrastructure and resilience.

  5. Measure what matters: Beyond graduation rates and research output, institutions should track well-being metrics — social trust, belonging, mental health — as central indicators of their impact.


It Doesn't Have to Be This Bad 

The decline in happiness across the United States is not a passing phase or a matter of individual pathology. Rather, it reflects deep shifts in social trust, political cohesion, and community infrastructure. Historically, scholars like Putnam sounded the alarm on social capital’s erosion. Today, health researchers warn that falling well‑being shortens lives and exacerbates inequalities.

Higher education, if reoriented toward building connections, purpose, and trust, could play a vital role in reversing this trajectory. But if universities remain inward-looking or inequality-driven, they risk accelerating the very forces that undermine societal well-being. The stakes are high — not only for individual students, but for the future health and cohesion of the nation.


Scholarly Sources:

  • Lee, Amber H. Y. “Social Trust in Polarized Times: How Perceptions of Political Polarization Affect Americans’ Trust in Each Other.” Political Behavior, 2022. PMC

  • Weiss, Inbar, Pamela Paxton, Kristopher Velasco, and Robert W. Ressler. “Revisiting Declines in Social Capital: Evidence from a New Measure.” Social Indicators Research, 2018. PMC

  • Lawrence, Elizabeth M., Richard G. Rogers, and Tim Wadsworth. “Happiness and Longevity in the United States.” Social Science & Medicine, 2015. PMC

  • Study on life satisfaction and mortality (14-year follow-up): PMC

  • Research on income inequality and trust: “In Equality, We Trust” (IMF / Finance & Development) IMF

  • Study of happy life expectancy, 1970–2000: PMC

  • Putnam, Robert D. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. (on social capital history) Wikipedia+1

Saturday, November 1, 2025

URGENT: SNAP ends Saturday, mass mutual aid NOW (Debt Collective)


One month ago, Republicans chose to shut down the government rather than protect our healthcare. Now, by refusing to process SNAP benefits for November, they’ve put 42 million working families at risk of going hungry or being forced deeper into debt just to put food on the table.

 

Most of us aren’t in debt because we live beyond our means — we’re in debt because we’ve been denied the means to live. This is especially true for SNAP recipients, most of whom are workers being paid starvation wages by greedy employers, or tenants being squeezed every month by predatory landlords. SNAP is a lifeline for people trapped in an economic system that’s designed to work against us, which is exactly why they’re trying to destroy it. 

 

Authoritarianism thrives on silence and complicity. We refuse to give in. This weekend, organizers across the country are mobilizing a mass effort to connect people with existing mutual aid networks. If you are on SNAP and are not sure where to look for help, get plugged into your local mutual aid network to get your needs met and organize to help others meet theirs.

 

When they cut our care, we care for each other. 

 

In solidarity,

Debt Collective

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Savoring and Saving: Living Better (and a Little Slower) with Less

For many American adults, the promises of education, hard work, and social mobility have not matched the reality of their lives. Instead of opportunity, many have found themselves mired in debt, precarious employment, and a cost of living that makes even modest comfort feel out of reach. These are the conditions faced by what academic Gary Roth has called the “educated underclass”—people who did everything “right,” only to be left juggling rent, bills, and burnout.

In this context, a quiet movement is taking shape—one that is neither glamorous nor marketable. It’s not a lifestyle trend or a subscription service. It’s a grounded return to basics: slowing down, living with less, and finding meaning in the daily rhythms of life. It’s about savoring and saving—not just money, but time, energy, community, and the environment.

This shift begins with daily choices. It starts in the morning with preparing a simple breakfast instead of grabbing something disposable on the go. It’s in walking or biking instead of driving, not just to save gas money, but to reduce fossil fuel use and reconnect with your surroundings. It’s in choosing to stay local, to build a life closer to where you live, rather than commuting long distances or flying to escape stress that never really leaves.

Living with less means being more deliberate with energy—your own, and the planet’s. Hanging clothes to dry instead of using a machine. Turning off lights and unplugging devices not just to lower the electric bill, but to lessen dependence on systems powered by fossil fuels and ecological harm. When you begin to see how your own daily routines are shaped by oil, gas, plastic, and speed, you start asking different questions about what’s necessary and what’s not.

Slowing down also reshapes your relationship to time. Instead of racing through meals, you cook with what you already have. You eat slowly, maybe with someone else. You wash dishes by hand and use that time to reflect, breathe, or pray. You walk instead of rush. You stretch your body in the morning sun instead of scrolling. You turn moments that were once filled with noise and consumption into moments of quiet, care, and clarity.

Prayer or meditation—if it’s part of your life—becomes a way to center yourself amid chaos, not a luxury or performance. It’s a recognition that your worth isn’t measured by output, and that your existence is connected to something beyond the market or the screen.

Exercise becomes a source of strength rather than appearance. You move your body because it helps you stay grounded, not because you’re trying to optimize every part of your life. A walk with a friend or a solitary hike does more for the soul than a crowded, branded gym session.

Self-care, stripped of branding, becomes simple: getting enough sleep, brushing your teeth, drinking water, saying no when you’re overextended. These are not acts of indulgence but of maintenance in a world that depletes people quickly and replaces them even faster.

This is not romantic or easy. Slowing down in an economy that demands speed can feel like falling behind. Using less can feel like doing without. But over time, what once felt like sacrifice begins to feel like control. The less you rely on fossil fuels, endless work hours, processed goods, and constant digital stimulation, the more you begin to experience what you’ve been missing: quiet, health, connection, intention.

You also start to see your own life in the context of larger systems—systems that exploit both labor and nature. Choosing to live with less is not only a personal strategy. It’s a form of resistance. It’s refusing to be a passive consumer of a destructive economy. It’s saying: I won’t burn myself out to keep a broken system running.

Savoring and saving means choosing to find value in the unmarketed parts of life. In cooking from scratch. In reading a book from the library. In walking to the store. In doing one thing at a time. In turning off your car and turning toward your neighbors. These decisions won’t make you rich. They won’t give you a badge or a brand. But they will help you live better—with fewer regrets, more clarity, and a deeper connection to the world you’re part of.

In a time of climate instability, job insecurity, and mass distraction, to live slower and with less is not just sensible—it’s vital. It’s how we preserve what matters. It’s how we begin to heal.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

The US Working-Class Depression: "Let's all pretend we couldn't see it coming."

How is the working-class Depression of 2020 similar to the other 47 financial downturns in US history? 

Downturns are frequently precipitated by poor economic and cultural practices and preceded by lots of signals: over-speculation, overuse of resources, oversupplies of goods, and exploitation of labor. What I see are many poor practices brought on by corruption--with overconsumption, climate change, growing inequality, and moral degeneration at the root.

The "disrupters" (21st century robber barons) have enabled an alienating and anomic system that is highly dysfunctional for most of the planet, using "algorithms of oppression." And this cannot be solved with data alchemy, marketing, and other forms of sophistry.

Put down your iPhone for a minute and ponder these rhetorical questions:

Warm Koolaid (2016) signified corporate America's use of myths and distractions to sedate the masses. 

How long have we known about all of this dysfunction? Academics have known about the effects of global climate change and growing US inequality since at least the 1980s. The Panic of 2020 should be a lesson so that we don't have a larger economic, social and environmental collapse in the future.

Who will hear the warnings and do something constructive for our future? Or is this Covid crisis another opportunity for the rich to cash in on the tragedy?

The answer lies, in part, to an ignorance of history and science, and oversupply of low-grade information, poor critical thinking skills, and lots of distractions. That's in addition to the massive greed and ill will by the rich and powerful.

US downturns are baked into this oppressive system. And crises are used to further exploit working families. With climate change and a half century of increasing inequality, these situations are likely to worsen.


Workers will resist and fight oppression; they always do, but will they have a voice as the US faces another self-induced crisis, as trillions are doled out to those who already have trillions?

Here are the dates of the largest economic downturns.
1797-1800
1807–1814
1819–1824
1857–1860
1873–1879 (The Long Depression)
1893–1896 (The Long Depression)
1907–1908
1918–1921 (World War I, Spanish Flu, Panic of 1920-21)
1929–1933 (Stock Market Crash, Great Depression)
1937–1938 (Great Depression)
Feb-Oct 1945
Nov 1948–Oct 1949
July 1953–May 1954
Aug 1957–April 1958
April 1960–Feb 1961
Dec 1969–Nov 1970
Nov. 1973– March 1975
Jan-July 1980
July 1981–Nov 1982
July 1990–March 1991
Mar-Nov 2001
December 2007 – June 2009 (The Great Recession)
March 2020-

We live in an economic system that is unsustainable, unjust, and exploitative. While many of us in academia and the thought industry have known this for decades, those with greater wisdom have known for centuries. Techies and disrupters think it can all be solved with technology, not with profound wisdom. The ultimate in hubris and reductionism. We have to change the system politically, socially, and culturally. We have to be wiser.

How do we do that, radically change society, when our economic system has driven us in the wrong direction for so long? Some of these lessons can be learned from working class history, but they have to be applied with wisdom.