This week i'm mixing it up. The following is a collection of words that tries to encapsulate the absolute passion I have in solving generation Z social denegtatiom. Youll even be able to hear about how I was once a not camping person, but decided to become a camping person simply because I could and wanted to. Hope you enjoy
Decline of Organized Social Groups
What is the connection between Generation Z’s rising depression rates and the decline of organized social groups? This question feels both urgent and deeply personal to me. It brings together themes of mental health, social trust, and community—issues that are reshaping our society today. Inspired by Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone, which highlights the decline of America’s social networks, I believe this question calls for an examination of the consequences of dwindling social trust and growing mistrust. With high rates of depression among young people, we must explore the root causes to help us heal—both personally and collectively.
This question naturally leads to several other inquiries: How has the rise of digital platforms changed the way we trust each other? How do family and faith shape long-term emotional well-being? Could structured, intentional social engagement help reduce loneliness and depression? Answering these questions requires an interdisciplinary approach, drawing from sociology, psychology, technology, and theology to understand how society can rebuild its broken connections.
To understand the causes of depression and social breakdown, we must consider different angles. Sociologically, Putnam’s research shows how the decline of organized social groups has led to less trust. Fewer Americans participate in civic activities or invite friends over, leading to a drop in social capital. Between the 1970s and the late 1990s, personal sociability plummeted, and trust among citizens fell from 55% to around 35%. As trust decreases, isolation grows, and the strength of our communities weakens.
Psychologically, vulnerability is a key part of building trust. But in a world where social media often showcases curated, “perfect” lives, being open and honest feels harder. Without trust, fear and suspicion creep in, making meaningful relationships more difficult to form. Technology exacerbates this problem by offering instant gratification—quick fixes that don’t foster true connection. While digital platforms can connect people across distances, they often fail to create the deeper bonds that organized social groups once provided.
The economic effects of isolation cannot be ignored. Social capital—the network of relationships, trust, and support that thrives in strong communities—has a significant impact on the economy. When people stop participating in social groups, the effects ripple beyond mental health, touching businesses and local economies.
From my own experience, I’ve seen how much stronger work environments are when teams feel connected. I’ve worked on group projects where strong relationships between team members made us more open, collaborative, and ultimately successful. But when connection is lacking, productivity suffers. Research shows that employees who feel connected to their colleagues are more engaged and motivated. Without those connections, work becomes harder, and creativity diminishes.
The rise of remote work and digital tools has amplified this issue. While working from home offers flexibility, it often leaves people feeling isolated. Virtual meetings may get the job done, but they can’t replace the spontaneous, personal moments that happen in person. Over time, this disconnection can hurt not only individuals but also businesses.
On a larger scale, the decline in community participation hurts local economies. Small businesses depend on active engagement from their communities—attending local events, shopping at nearby stores, or volunteering. When people disengage, they stop supporting the businesses that rely on them. This weakens the networks that once supported community projects and fundraisers. As these networks falter, resources dwindle, and communities struggle to sustain themselves.
Putnam’s work illustrates how trust impacts the broader economy. When trust declines, people become more cautious about taking risks or collaborating. This slows economic growth, as fewer investments are made, decisions take longer, and opportunities shrink. In this sense, the decline of organized social groups affects far more than just loneliness or isolation—it undermines the teamwork, creativity, and support systems critical for societal and economic success.
From a disciple of Jesus Christ’s perspective, these societal shifts invite reflection on the deeper meaning of community and service. The teachings of Christ, centered on love, trust, and selflessness, offer a path to rebuilding connections. To me, strengthening social bonds is not just a social need—it’s a spiritual calling. Connecting with and serving others becomes part of fulfilling a divine purpose.
Through interdisciplinary insights, I’ve seen firsthand how intentional effort can build trust. Hosting biweekly dinners with my roommates taught me the power of prioritizing time for one another. At our first dinner, 50 people—friends and strangers alike—gathered in our yard. It was awkward at first, but the evening turned into one filled with laughter and meaningful conversations. This showed me how transformative vulnerability and effort can be in building relationships.
Planning a camping trip also reshaped my understanding of community. Social media had made me expect perfection, but the reality of organizing, gathering people, and facing challenges was messy and imperfect. Yet, the effort resulted in a weekend of joy, growth, and connection. This experience reinforced that building relationships requires intentionality, vulnerability, and a willingness to embrace discomfort.
At the same time, I’ve struggled with commitment—especially in dating. After returning from my mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I felt pressure to find someone to marry. While I valued marriage, I often hesitated, fearing I might miss out on something better. This hesitation reflects a broader trend in Generation Z, as Christine Emba has discussed. Many of us prioritize individual success over long-term connections, which can cause us to miss out on deeper, more meaningful relationships.
Through these experiences, I’ve realized that vulnerability and trust aren’t just tools for connection—they’re spiritual principles. Life isn’t about holding out for something better but about turning consistency and commitment into the best choices for us. This shift in perspective has helped me see relationships and community-building as acts of faith and love.
So how can we address the rising depression rates in Generation Z? The answer lies in rebuilding what we’ve lost: community. This isn’t just about reviving old social clubs or joining sports teams; it’s about creating spaces where trust, vulnerability, and intentional effort can flourish. Hosting dinners, planning trips, or simply showing up—these acts remind us that real connection requires work but yields immeasurable rewards.
Taking an interdisciplinary approach helps us see the bigger picture. Sociology highlights the trends of isolation, psychology reveals the emotional barriers to trust, and theology reminds us of our spiritual duty to love and serve one another. Together, these ideas point us toward healing.
Maybe it’s time to stop bowling alone and start building leagues—not just for sports, but for life itself.
Generation Z’s Rising Depression Rates and the Decline of Organized Social Groups
What is the connection between Generation Z’s rising depression rates and the decline of organized social groups? This question feels both urgent and deeply personal to me. It brings together themes of mental health, social trust, and community—issues that are reshaping our society today. Inspired by Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone, which highlights the decline of America’s social networks, I believe this question calls for an examination of the consequences of dwindling social trust and growing mistrust. With high rates of depression among young people, we must explore the root causes to help us heal—both personally and collectively.
This question naturally leads to several other inquiries: How has the rise of digital platforms changed the way we trust each other? How do family and faith shape long-term emotional well-being? Could structured, intentional social engagement help reduce loneliness and depression? Answering these questions requires an interdisciplinary approach, drawing from sociology, psychology, technology, and theology to understand how society can rebuild its broken connections.
To understand the causes of depression and social breakdown, we must consider different angles. Sociologically, Putnam’s research shows how the decline of organized social groups has led to less trust. Fewer Americans participate in civic activities or invite friends over, leading to a drop in social capital. Between the 1970s and the late 1990s, personal sociability plummeted, and trust among citizens fell from 55% to around 35%. As trust decreases, isolation grows, and the strength of our communities weakens.
Psychologically, vulnerability is a key part of building trust. But in a world where social media often showcases curated, “perfect” lives, being open and honest feels harder. Without trust, fear and suspicion creep in, making meaningful relationships more difficult to form. Technology exacerbates this problem by offering instant gratification—quick fixes that don’t foster true connection. While digital platforms can connect people across distances, they often fail to create the deeper bonds that organized social groups once provided.
The economic effects of isolation cannot be ignored. Social capital—the network of relationships, trust, and support that thrives in strong communities—has a significant impact on the economy. When people stop participating in social groups, the effects ripple beyond mental health, touching businesses and local economies.
From my own experience, I’ve seen how much stronger work environments are when teams feel connected. I’ve worked on group projects where strong relationships between team members made us more open, collaborative, and ultimately successful. But when connection is lacking, productivity suffers. Research shows that employees who feel connected to their colleagues are more engaged and motivated. Without those connections, work becomes harder, and creativity diminishes.
The rise of remote work and digital tools has amplified this issue. While working from home offers flexibility, it often leaves people feeling isolated. Virtual meetings may get the job done, but they can’t replace the spontaneous, personal moments that happen in person. Over time, this disconnection can hurt not only individuals but also businesses.
On a larger scale, the decline in community participation hurts local economies. Small businesses depend on active engagement from their communities—attending local events, shopping at nearby stores, or volunteering. When people disengage, they stop supporting the businesses that rely on them. This weakens the networks that once supported community projects and fundraisers. As these networks falter, resources dwindle, and communities struggle to sustain themselves.
Putnam’s work illustrates how trust impacts the broader economy. When trust declines, people become more cautious about taking risks or collaborating. This slows economic growth, as fewer investments are made, decisions take longer, and opportunities shrink. In this sense, the decline of organized social groups affects far more than just loneliness or isolation—it undermines the teamwork, creativity, and support systems critical for societal and economic success.
From a disciple of Jesus Christ’s perspective, these societal shifts invite reflection on the deeper meaning of community and service. The teachings of Christ, centered on love, trust, and selflessness, offer a path to rebuilding connections. To me, strengthening social bonds is not just a social need—it’s a spiritual calling. Connecting with and serving others becomes part of fulfilling a divine purpose.
Through interdisciplinary insights, I’ve seen firsthand how intentional effort can build trust. Hosting biweekly dinners with my roommates taught me the power of prioritizing time for one another. At our first dinner, 50 people—friends and strangers alike—gathered in our yard. It was awkward at first, but the evening turned into one filled with laughter and meaningful conversations. This showed me how transformative vulnerability and effort can be in building relationships.
Planning a camping trip also reshaped my understanding of community. Social media had made me expect perfection, but the reality of organizing, gathering people, and facing challenges was messy and imperfect. Yet, the effort resulted in a weekend of joy, growth, and connection. This experience reinforced that building relationships requires intentionality, vulnerability, and a willingness to embrace discomfort.
At the same time, I’ve struggled with commitment—especially in dating. After returning from my mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I felt pressure to find someone to marry. While I valued marriage, I often hesitated, fearing I might miss out on something better. This hesitation reflects a broader trend in Generation Z, as Christine Emba has discussed. Many of us prioritize individual success over long-term connections, which can cause us to miss out on deeper, more meaningful relationships.
Through these experiences, I’ve realized that vulnerability and trust aren’t just tools for connection—they’re spiritual principles. Life isn’t about holding out for something better but about turning consistency and commitment into the best choices for us. This shift in perspective has helped me see relationships and community-building as acts of faith and love.
So how can we address the rising depression rates in Generation Z? The answer lies in rebuilding what we’ve lost: community. This isn’t just about reviving old social clubs or joining sports teams; it’s about creating spaces where trust, vulnerability, and intentional effort can flourish. Hosting dinners, planning trips, or simply showing up—these acts remind us that real connection requires work but yields immeasurable rewards.
Taking an interdisciplinary approach helps us see the bigger picture. Sociology highlights the trends of isolation, psychology reveals the emotional barriers to trust, and theology reminds us of our spiritual duty to love and serve one another. Together, these ideas point us toward healing.
Maybe it’s time to stop bowling alone and start building leagues—not just for sports, but for life itself.
Let me know if you’d like any additional refinements!
