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Alone but not lonely? In our hyper-socialized culture, the title of this article will strike many as a misnomer at best or a deliberate attention grabbing stab at Ann Coulter style notoriety at worst.  As every media schooled citizen knows, the state of being alone inevitably leads to the emotion of loneliness, like alcohol leads to bad sex or a visit to Neverland Ranch once led to unusual sleeping arrangements.  If there is one thing our parasitical talking heads on television and resident PhD quote whores can agree upon, it is that social isolation is nearly as unhealthy for us plebeians as living in flyover country would be for them.   

Robert Putnam, a Harvard public policy professor, wrote an entire book lambasting us for bowling alone. Medical doctors so routinely pressure us to join adult education classes in order to meet people that they deserve a gift-wrapped pottery wheel courtesy of their local ceramics instructors. Meanwhile their brethren in psychology have done for social isolation and depression what Dr. Seuss did for Green Eggs and Ham or the Brothers Grimm did for Jack and Jill: irrevocably link the two forever in our minds.

According to a 2006 study by the American Sociological Review, 25 percent of Americans have no one in whom to confide while an additional 20 percent have only one confidant. The study produced the usual maelstrom of hand-wringing amongst the educated classes. But a funny thing happened to all these hacks who doth protest too much about the private lives of their fellow Americans. I’ll let Dick Meyers, a reporter from CBS News, take it from here: “The content of (my e-mail) stunned me. You want a bigger word than "stunned?" How about shocked, surprised or baffled?”

And what left this Washington insider of 23 years, who lived through the Blue Dress and the WMD myth, so stunned but unfortunately for us, not speechless? Why, we readers stood up for ourselves and said we’re alone by choice, not circumstance. Think Mr. Myers took the hint? No, he casually brushed aside our protestations as the idle ravings of partisans from both sides of the political spectrum. And then Mr. Myers had the audacity to wonder why over half of us have no confidants outside our own families? Could it be because experts like him fail to listen to anyone but themselves?

Before you discount what I write as the ranting of some crazed Unabomber loony living in his parent’s basement, allow me to state that I am a married man. Like 9 percent of Americans, my spouse provides all the companionship I need or desire. Admittedly, I have not always felt this way. For my first thirty years, I proudly counted myself amongst the hand-wringing “all-you-loners-are-rationalizing-away-your-loneliness” crowd. I pre-ordered “Bowling Alone” months before its release. I canvassed my college campus with placards proclaiming the formation of the “University Board Game Club”. Scarcely an elevator foyer or a sidewalk was left unadorned by my posters and chalk markings respectively. Cave crawling, rock climbing, whitewater rafting; if my university held a trip requiring attendance at 6 AM on a Saturday morning, I would perkily be there flirting with every pretty girl and attempting to befriend every cool guy. Know the annoying fellow on the message board who suggests everyone drive for hours so they can meet and hang out like “real people”? Well, that annoying fellow used to be me. Did a twenty-year old man once show up for your Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants book club meeting? That was probably me, too. So yeah, you could say I used to be a socially active guy.

Why would a man once so active in his community churn out an article called “Alone but Not Lonely”? After thirty years of holding my nose and forcing down that socializing Kool-Aid, I decided I would rather respect myself and my own perceptions over those of our ivory tower betters. For years, I was the square block trying to squeeze myself into the round hole or, if you prefer, the gay man trying to develop a taste for you know what. But the time has come to leave the closet and face up to the gospel of Myers-Briggs by way of AA: “My name is Travis and I am an introvert.”

At first glance, this may not seem as courageous as a gay man coming out of the closet. And it will strike many as downright disrespectful to suffering alcoholics. But let us consider this: These other disenfranchised groups have role models. Gays have Ellen, Rosie, Clay, Lance and Liberace, names so famous a surname is unnecessary. The list of recovering alcoholics’ reads like a Who’s Who of Washington D.C., sports and Cape Canaveral: Betty Ford, Kitty Dukakis, Brett Favre, Chris Mullin and Buzz Aldrin. Meanwhile African-Americans have a President, the world’s greatest golfer and a billionaire talk show host. But who do we introverts have? Is there a famous name as synonymous with introversion as Elton John’s is with homosexuality? For those of us who actually listen to his lyrics, Morrissey would qualify, but to the general public, if he is known at all, it is as a gay vegetarian, New Wave fop.

We’re all familiar with the various –isms: Racism, sexism and ageism to name but a few. But while America has progressed enough that a Black Youth Project Survey found a majority of Hispanics and a near majority of black youths rarely or never feel discriminated against, a whopping 98 percent of introverts have felt reproached for their personalities, this according to personal interviews conducted by Dr. Marti Olsen Laney, author of “The Introvert Advantage”. Such wanton discrimination forces most of us right back into our closets, where we practice becoming good little extroverts to avoid the taunts of others. While introvertism is a word we’re too embarrassed to utter aloud, we happily order books like one I found on Amazon entitled “Introvert to Extrovert”, as if being an introvert were some hideous disorder the author Al Spokoiny courageously overcame. Imagine a book entitled “Gay to Straight” or “Black to White” and the justifiable uproars they would cause. But instead of outrage, we introverts buy up these titles like they were ocean-front property on the California Coast. Three separate studies profiled in “The Introvert Advantage” have all unearthed the same self-loathing result: we introverts choose extroverts as not only our ideal self but our ideal leaders as well.[i] When it comes to voting against our own interests, Kansas Republicans have nothing on us.

A poll of college students found extroverts have higher self-esteem than introverts.[ii]  No wonder! Extroverts so dominate our mass media that personality has come to be seen as one-size-fits-all in America, that one size being extroversion of course. They sell us "Girls Gone Wild" videos on late night TV, not "Girls Gone to the Library". We’re force-fed "Friends" and not even given the choice to watch "Friendless".  "Sex and the City"? Even amongst those allegedly swinging under 30 singles, slightly less than half are dating. Sexless in the City would be more apropos. On those rare occasions when Hollywood deigns to portray us, it is as the butt of the joke, not the teller. The news media is even worse. Unless an extrovert drives us into a murderous rampage, you’ll never hear about us on the five o’clock news.

When extroverts are portrayed as the epitome of cool while we introverts are viewed as an undifferentiated mass of comic book loving shut-ins, is it any wonder we learn to hate ourselves and love their wealth of friends and sexcapades? 

The numbers bear out this self-loathing. Even though we introverts make up only a quarter of the general population, our numbers swell to 74 percent amongst sufferers of depression. Hardly the type of company one would like to keep! But while psychologists are quick to label introversion as a cause of depression, I think we introverts are perfectly capable of leading fulfilling and happy lives. Problems arise when we try to be something we are not: extroverts. In the articles which follow I will outline how we became so depressed and what we can do to restore our pride.