Authored by Kay Rubacek via The Epoch Times,
America’s
loneliness epidemic has been headline news for years. We’ve seen study
after study confirming what many feel in their bones: more people are
isolated, disconnected, and struggling to find meaning in daily life.
Older
Americans often chalk this up to technology or to the social scars of
COVID. They aren’t entirely wrong, but the deeper story is much larger.

The culprit is not just phones, or screens, or even the internet.
The
real driver of this new loneliness is algorithms—the invisible rules
and processes that now govern how we live, connect, and even think.
This
may sound abstract, but it isn’t. Algorithms are the silent presence
shaping your news feed, recommending your next purchase, deciding which
job application gets reviewed, and filtering which posts you see from
family or friends. They don’t just show you the world; they decide which
world you see.
And the most important thing to understand is that algorithms have not touched every generation equally.
Baby boomers and many Gen Xers remember life before algorithms. They
grew up with solitude as a normal part of existence: long walks, time
alone with books, evenings without distraction. Their social lives were
local and embodied. If they were lonely, it was the ordinary kind of
loneliness, the kind that might drive someone to call a friend, join a
club, or just take a walk and kick around some stones along the way.
Millennials
came of age as algorithms entered their lives through the rise of
social media and smartphones. For them, the shift was gradual.
They still remember analog childhoods, but their adult lives became
increasingly tethered to devices. They learned to straddle both worlds,
sometimes nostalgically recalling life before algorithms, but never
recognizing algorithms as the new driving force in their lives.
Gen Z and Gen Alpha, however, have never known life without algorithmic curation.
From childhood, their identities, friendships, and even their sense of
self have been shaped inside systems designed to maximize engagement.
They
are the most connected generation in history and yet, paradoxically,
the loneliest. Studies confirm that they report higher levels of
isolation and depression than their parents or grandparents did at the
same age. For them, solitude is almost unimaginable. Their sleeping
hours have diminished, and their waking hours have been saturated with
algorithmic nudges, performance demands, and invisible comparisons.
This is why blaming “phones” or “tech” misses the point. A
phone is just a tool. The deeper cause of today’s epidemic of
loneliness is the system of algorithms that runs on those devices and
quietly governs the lives lived through them.
What Algorithms Really Are
At
their core, algorithms are simply instructions, step-by-step rules for
solving a problem. A recipe is an algorithm. Your mental meal plan for
the week and your decisions that lead to each choice of ingredient or
food order are an algorithm. A GPS system calculating the fastest route
from your home to your summer vacation rental is an algorithm.
But
in today’s digital ecosystem, algorithms are far more than recipes or
maps. They are adaptive, learning systems. They feed on vast pools of
data—everything from your shopping habits to your search history, to the
measured, minuscule pause you make when you scroll past a video. They
compare that data with billions of other users and then predict what
you’re most likely to click, watch, buy, or believe.
And because
these systems are built by companies that profit from your attention,
the algorithms are not neutral. They are designed to keep you hooked,
whether by showing you an ad, an argument, or a carefully tuned video
feed. The effect is subtle but relentless: instead of you using
technology, technology uses you.
This is the deeper driver of the loneliness epidemic. It’s not the devices themselves, but the algorithmic logic that turns every human interaction into a transaction of engagement.
Algorithms, Big Data, and AI
To
see the scale of this system, we have to understand how algorithms
interact with big data and artificial intelligence. I like to think
about it this way:
Big Data is the raw material. It’s the
massive flow of information generated by billions of people every
second, such as texts, clicks, GPS signals, online purchases, etc.
Data
Science is the discipline of interpreting that flood of information,
using statistical models to find patterns and predictions.
Artificial
Intelligence (AI) is the set of systems that act on those
patterns—generating responses, steering cars, translating languages,
diagnosing illnesses.
And weaving through all of this
are algorithms. They are the connective tissue that directs how data
flows, how patterns are recognized, and how AI responds.
This
system is bigger than any single app or gadget. It’s not just “social
media” or “smartphones.” It’s a body. It’s a living digital body that
touches every aspect of our lives.
The Digital Body Analogy
The
scale and complexity of this system are hard to grasp. We can
understand pieces, such as big data here, AI there, a billionaire’s
investment somewhere else, but it’s nearly impossible to see the whole
picture. Using a human body as an analogy provides a familiar framework
that makes the invisible visible. Think of it this way:
Blood = Big Data. Every click, swipe, and GPS ping is a drop in the digital bloodstream. It circulates endlessly, feeding every organ.
Brain = Data Science. Like the cortex, data science interprets signals, prioritizing some and ignoring others.
Muscles and Nerves = AI. Artificial intelligence carries out actions, reacting to the world, learning through repetition.
Fascia = Algorithms. Just as fascia is the connective tissue that binds the body, algorithms link every system, invisible but essential.
Skeleton = Infrastructure. The bones are the servers, chips, and cloud systems that hold the structure upright.
Hormones = Billionaire Funding. Money acts like growth hormones, directing where and how the body grows.
Immune System = Regulation and Ethics. Governments and watchdogs try to keep the system healthy, but they are slow compared to the pace of growth.
This
is not a metaphor for metaphor’s sake. Thinking of technology as a body
helps us see the interdependence of data, algorithms, AI, funding, and
infrastructure. They are not separate silos. They are systems working
together, coordinated and integrated. They are a whole organism with
enormous power.
Who Guides This Digital Body?
The digital
body does not grow in a vacuum. It is shaped by human ambition,
institutional power, and the money that fuels its expansion.
Mathematicians and statisticians lay down the theories that become its
hidden code, while researchers and engineers turn those theories into
systems that now operate at a planetary scale. Corporations then carry
these systems into daily life, embedding them in banking, medicine,
entertainment, and government services until opting out is almost
impossible.
At the top, a handful of billionaires act as both financiers and architects.
Elon
Musk, Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, and Peter Thiel do not
simply fund research, they steer its direction. Their money determines
which projects thrive, which disappear, and which values are built into
the foundations.
Whether it is Musk’s warnings of
existential risk paired with his own competing ventures; Gates’s drive
to integrate AI into healthcare and education; Zuckerberg’s insistence
on open access to AI while keeping access reliant on his platforms;
Bezos’s control of the cloud that almost every AI startup relies on, or
Thiel’s focus on military and intelligence dominance, their priorities
set the course for us all.
Governments claim to act as a
counterweight, but their record shows otherwise. Regulations arrive
years late, toothless or compromised, while public agencies themselves
increasingly depend on the very systems they are meant to restrain. In
action, many governments have chosen acceleration over accountability,
trading away oversight for short-term advantage in the global race for
dominance.
The result is stark. This body is not guided by
democratic will or collective conscience. It is guided by the
concentrated power of a few men, driven by their personal visions, and
fed by the data of billions who never gave meaningful consent.
A Historical Parallel and a Break From History
We
have faced moments of massive social transformation before. The
Industrial Revolution restructured labor, uprooted communities, and
filled cities with both opportunity and despair.
The nuclear age
handed humanity weapons so destructive that entire doctrines of
deterrence had to be invented to keep civilization intact. But today’s
transformation is different in ways that strike at the core of what it
means to be human.
We have never had an industrial revolution
that drove youth loneliness to epidemic levels. According to the U.S.
Surgeon General’s 2023 Advisory on the Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation, young adults are now twice as likely as seniors to report feeling lonely.
We have never had a technological revolution coincide with the highest youth suicide rates ever recorded: the CDC reports that suicide among Americans ages 10–24 surged 62 percent from 2007 to 2021.
Unlike
the past, where machines amplified our physical abilities, this
revolution claims it will amplify our mental ones. And yet, while
promising to expand our intelligence, it has narrowed our attention,
eroded our solitude, and dismissed our most basic human needs.
No
previous age of invention told us that our inner lives—our thoughts, our
longings, our silences—could be reduced to data points, packaged,
analyzed, and monetized.
And unlike in past upheavals,
where governments scrambled to erect guardrails, this time many
regulators have stepped aside. Meanwhile, the human costs mount, and the
immune system of conscience that once tried to protect society is
barely functioning.
This is not simply another
revolution. It is an entirely new phenomenon. For the first time, we are
living inside a system we cannot see in full, operated by stakeholders
we do not know, shaped by algorithms that coldly strip away our
individuality. We are not merely workers adjusting to new machines; we
are human beings being recast as data points, dehumanized inside a body
that grows without us.
Seeing the Whole Body
That is why
we must force ourselves to see the body whole. Not just apps or devices.
Not just billionaires or companies. But the full organism: blood,
brain, fascia, skeleton, muscles, hormones, and the silent forces
driving it.
Only then can we understand why loneliness has become
epidemic, why young people (our future) are struggling under pressures
older generations never knew, and why humanity itself feels unsettled.
We cannot continue to dismiss these harms as side effects of “new
technology.” They are the natural outcome of a system that feeds on our
data, reduces us to abstractions, and values engagement over
flourishing.
If we do not recognize this body for what it is, we
will continue to live as isolated organs serving it rather than as
people with dignity, free will, and conscience.
The
digital body is here. It is powerful, fast-growing, and largely
invisible. The question is whether we will remain passive tissue inside
it, or whether we will reassert our humanity and demand a body that
serves us, not the other way around.
Views expressed
in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily
reflect the views of The Epoch Times or ZeroHedge.