Thorny Question


Introduction

Something subtle but unsettling has been happening in my life: I can barely sit alone without reaching for my phone. Even when I consciously tell myself, “Just be present,” I still feel this tiny discomfort, like an itch that makes me unlock my screen, as if the silence is somehow too much. What’s strange is that solitude once felt grounding for me. Growing up, I loved the quietness, taking long walks without headphones, or staring out a window while letting my mind drift. Those were moments when I felt like I “met” myself.

But now, my solitude feels crowded. It’s filled with notifications, feeds, shortened attention, and this low-level stimulation that never really switches off. When I do sit alone without my phone, it feels unfamiliar, almost like something is missing, but I can’t name what it is. At times, being online during bouts of loneliness feels helpful, especially when it’s positive online engagement: watching content from back home or texting friends and family makes me feel less lonely. Yet negative engagement, such as body-based content or distressing news can quickly amplify loneliness instead. My own mindset also plays a role. Seeing friends post travel photos can uplift me on a good day and make me feel small on a bad one.

Yet paradoxically, being constantly online doesn’t feel like real connection either. It feels like a half-state: I’m neither fully with others nor fully with myself.

There seem to be endless variations in how loneliness, solitude, and online engagement interact. I don’t think there’s one clear direction of influence. Does one cause the other? Do they reinforce each other? Or do they simply ebb and flow depending on internal states? This lived confusion leads me to my central question:

How does technology reshape our experiences of solitude and loneliness, and how do those internal states, in turn, shape our use of technology?

It’s a knot I genuinely don’t have a clear answer to, but that uncertainty is exactly what makes it worth exploring.


Solitude vs. Loneliness, and Why This Distinction Matters

Before diving deeper into technology’s role, I need to clarify what I mean when I talk about being alone. Aloneness can take two very different forms: solitude, which can be constructive, and loneliness, which feels heavy and isolating. Although people often collapse the two, they are psychologically distinct.

Solitude, in its positive form, is chosen. It’s restorative, a quiet inner space where reflection, creativity, and emotional regulation can unfold. Loneliness, by contrast, is unwanted. It carries sadness, disconnection, and a sense of not being held by others.

Research echoes this difference. Ost-Mor et al. (2024) found that “loneliness” was positively associated with depressive symptoms, whereas “positive solitude” was negatively associated with depressive symptoms. Their findings also reported “positive solitude” can actually buffer the negative effects of loneliness and reduce depressive symptoms, suggesting that solitude is not inherently harmful but becomes harmful when it shifts into unwanted isolation (Ost-Mor et al., 2024).

Yet, understanding solitude is messy in the literature. A systematic review by Pezzi et al. (2024) pointed out that studies on solitary experiences are inconsistent. Different scholars define solitude differently, sometimes even collapsing it into loneliness. This inconsistency reflects how complicated the experience is in real life, too. Being alone can feel peaceful one moment and painful the next, and technology often pushes that line in confusing ways (Pezzi et al., 2024). Overall, loneliness was positively associated with “problematic social media use” (PSMU) (Pezzi et al., 2024, p. 284). This could suggest the contribution of loneliness to PSMU or perhaps PSMU may lead to more loneliness. However, these attributions could be very simplistic, and a comprehensive view of taking other factors into account are crucial. It is also important to consider the different factors that cause loneliness and PSMU to exist is a positive association with each other.

Most importantly, the motivation and willingness for solitude itself also seem to make a difference in how one experiences it. Having a higher affinity for alone time seems to increase enjoyment in experiencing solitude, without engaging in technology (Coplan et al., 2022, p. 486). Therefore, internal factors shape whether solitude becomes nourishing or numbing.


Source: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/loneliness-vs-solitude-understanding-key-differences-rafique-46oie/

How Loneliness and Solitude Shape Technology Use

Our internal states shape how and why we turn to devices. Loneliness and solitude can both push us toward technology, but in very different ways.

Wang and Ma (2024) found that social isolation increases loneliness, and loneliness, in turn, predicts higher smartphone addiction among college students. However, there was a much more complex relationship between the factors. Social isolation increases the risk of smartphone addiction both directly and indirectly, by heightening feelings of loneliness and anxiety related to COVID-19 (Wang & Ma, 2024). These two factors act as mediators, sometimes separately, sometimes in sequence and the study found even an unexpected pathway where anxiety preceded loneliness (Wang & Ma, 2024). Overall, the findings suggest that it is the subjective emotional impact of isolation, rather than isolation alone, that drives college students toward problematic smartphone use (Wang & Ma, 2024).

What struck me most was that phones weren’t simply entertainment. They functioned as coping mechanisms. Loneliness led students to seek emotional regulation through their phones, often creating dependence (Wang & Ma, 2024). And loneliness did not simply exist by itself; it was triggered and heightened by social isolation or at times preceded by different feelings (Wang & Ma, 2024). And most importantly, every participant had a different experience, based on their subjective state, which makes the relationship of loneliness and smartphone usage a unique experience for each individual. Additionally, as much as loneliness may predict higher smartphone addiction, the addiction may also contribute to more loneliness, eventually creating a loop.

This resonates deeply with me. When I’m anxious or overwhelmed, I don’t use my phone to seek stimulation, I use it to escape discomfort. My phone becomes a buffer between me and my own thoughts. And that loop, where loneliness leads to more tech use, which then leads to more loneliness feels painfully familiar.


How Technology Reshapes Our Ability to Be Alone

When I reflect honestly, technology has completely altered the texture of my solitude. The moment I try to sit still, I feel the urge to “fill” the space by checking messages, scrolling, listening to something, or Googling something. Anything to avoid silence. Technology transforms empty moments into something that feels wrong or incomplete.

This tension mirrors what Coplan et al. (2022) found: people hold very different beliefs about whether technology supports or disrupts solitude. For some, phones create a sense of safe or intentional solitude; for others, they constantly interrupt it (Coplan et al., 2022). Therefore, given the digital era, they suggested redefining solitude by looking at “gradients” of solitude, rather than just looking at solitude as physically alone time from others (Coplan et al., 2022, p. 486).

I see myself on both sides. Technology sometimes makes solitude feel more bearable. For instance, listening to music on a walk or watching self-help content online to clear my mind. But it also distracts me from experiencing solitude deeply. It’s solitude with training wheels: helpful, but limiting.

There’s also the long-term impact of how one uses technology to consider. Karsay et al. (2019), in their longitudinal study, found that even though excessive smartphone use does not directly affect loneliness and stress, however it is moderated by the amount of self-disclosure online. Use of excessive smartphone use predicts increased stress and increased loneliness over time, especially for people who make low self-disclosures online (Karsay et al., 2019, p. 706). However, those engaging in high self-disclosure, excessive smartphone use can also reduce loneliness and relieve stress (Karsay et al., 2019, p. 706).

This complexity mirrors real life: some days, my phone softens loneliness; other days, it sharpens it. And, this complexity is also greatly shaped by how I engage online.


The Changing Nature of Solitude in the Digital Age

This brings me to a larger question: Is my generation losing the capacity for solitude, or is solitude simply evolving? We no longer grow up being bored or waiting in silence. Every pause is filled with micro-stimulation: TikTok, Reels, messages, news, notifications. If solitude is a skill, we practice it far less than previous generations. This has consequences. If we never have to sit with our own minds, do we lose the resilience that comes from doing so? And if loneliness is rising globally, is it partly because we’ve replaced reflection with distraction?

The systematic review by Pezzi et al. (2024) indirectly touches on this: solitary experiences are changing rapidly, and overall loneliness may be linked to problematic social media use. Their findings suggest that digital environments complicate the boundary between healthy solitude and maladaptive withdrawal (Pezzi et al., 2024). Moreover, Pezzi et al. (2024) suggest that “positive solitude” may actually protect young adults from problematic social media use because people who are comfortable being alone are less likely to rely on social media to cope with unmet psychological needs. They argue that future research should explicitly study subjective experiences of solitude separately from loneliness to understand whether it reduces vulnerability to compulsive online behaviors or serves as a healthy buffer (Pezzi et al., 2024). The studies on solitude and tech use are limited from Pezzi et al.’s (2024) review. This shows that our relationship to being alone is evolving, and not always in clear or healthy ways.


Contradictions, Tensions, and the Thorniness of the Question

The deeper I go, the clearer it becomes that the answer is not clean or linear. Every point has a counterpoint: Technology can support solitude, but also interrupts it with constant stimulation. Loneliness may lead to increased smartphone use (Wang & Ma, 2024), but excessive smartphone use also predicts higher loneliness, especially in instances of low self-disclosure (Karsay et al., 2019). Positive solitude can buffer emotional distress (Ost-Mor et al., 2024),
But it becomes harder to access when technology fills empty moments before solitude can settle.
Technology makes connection easier, but also makes genuine connection harder to feel.


Conclusion

After exploring the complexities between solitude, loneliness, and technology, I don’t think tech simply “destroys” our ability to be alone. I think it reshapes it, making it more mediated, more optional, and more fragile. Solitude now competes with constant stimulation. Loneliness is easier to mask but harder to escape. And being alone has become something we must consciously practice rather than something that naturally happens.

Writing this has helped me see that my struggle with solitude isn’t a personal failure, it’s part of a larger cultural shift. Technology doesn’t just sit in our hands; it threads itself through how we cope, connect, avoid, and feel. It shapes us, but we shape it back through our emotions, habits, and vulnerabilities.

I don’t have a neat answer to whether technology is good or bad for our inner lives. But I am starting to see that the real challenge is not choosing between solitude and technology, but learning how to hold both, without letting one eclipse the other. Maybe the task now is to cultivate a new form of solitude, one that can survive not despite technology, but alongside it.


References

Coplan, R. J., McVarnock, A., Hipson, W. E., & Bowker, J. C. (2022). Alone with my phone? Examining beliefs about solitude and technology use in adolescence. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 46(6), 481–489. https://doi.org/10.1177/01650254221113460

Karsay, K., Schmuck, D., Matthes, J., & Stevic, A. (2019). Longitudinal effects of excessive smartphone use on stress and loneliness: The moderating role of self-disclosure. Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking, 22(11), 706–713. https://doi.org/10.1089/cyber.2019.0255

Ost-Mor, S., Segel-Karpas, D., Palgi, Y., Yaira, H. R., Mayan, S., Ben-Ezra, M., & Greenblatt-Kimron, L. (2024). Let there be light: The moderating role of positive solitude in the relationship between loneliness and depressive symptoms. International Psychogeriatrics, 36(8), 689–693. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1041610223000698

Pezzi, M., Corsano, P., Santoro, G., Gori, A., Gámez-Guadix, M., & Musetti, A. (2024). Solitary experience and problematic social media use among young adults: A systematic review with recommendations for future research. Clinical Neuropsychiatry, 21(4), 284–298. https://doi.org/10.36131/cnfioritieditore20240405

Wang, Y., & Ma, Q. (2024). The impact of social isolation on smartphone addiction among college students: The multiple mediating effects of loneliness and COVID-19 anxiety. Frontiers in Psychology, 15, 1391415. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2024.1391415