As the new year begins, it’s hard not to reflect on the quiet loneliness that seems to weigh on so many of us, particularly men, during the holidays. This isn’t just anecdotal. Author and commentator Scott Galloway has pointed out that the percentage of men without close friends has quadrupled in recent decades. This troubling trend reflects broader societal changes: increased media consumption, fragmented communities, and ideologies that keep us further apart.
In Sarnia, this loneliness feels especially pronounced. If you scroll through local Facebook groups over the holidays, you’ll see it—an uptick in posts about security footage, disputes over snow removal, or grievances about neighbourhood behaviours. What’s striking is how disconnected these conversations often feel. They’re not about building relationships; they’re about filling the silence.
The holidays, a time meant to bring people together, seem to highlight this disconnection. Unless you’re part of a church community or have a family with strong traditions, there are few places in Sarnia to gather and simply be with others. Public events are rare, and spaces to celebrate community are even rarer. For many, the season becomes another reminder of isolation.
I spent New Year’s Eve in Detroit this year, and the contrast was stark. The city was alive with events—many free and geared toward bringing people together. Kids played in parks, families enjoyed community spaces, and neighbours gathered to celebrate, not because they had to, but because there were opportunities to connect. It wasn’t about spending money or attending something exclusive; it was about creating spaces where people could simply be with one another.
In Sarnia, these kinds of gatherings feel few and far between. Our city has so much potential, but the lack of spaces for connection holds us back. We’ve seen how even small efforts can make a difference—look at what’s happening in Mitton Village, where events have brought life back to the area. The question is, why don’t we see more of this city-wide, especially during times when connection is most needed?
As media consumption rises and public spaces shrink, the cost of loneliness isn’t just personal; it’s societal. Isolation affects how we see each other, how we vote, and how we care for our neighbours. It makes us quicker to judge and slower to help. But it doesn’t have to be this way.
Sarnia has always been a city of neighbours. That spirit hasn’t disappeared; it’s just waiting for spaces to re-emerge. Creating opportunities to connect—whether it’s a skating night, a community potluck, or a free library event—can ripple through the fabric of our city. It’s not just about combating loneliness; it’s about strengthening the bonds that make Sarnia more compassionate and resilient.
Loneliness might be a quiet epidemic, but connection is the antidote. And in 2025, it’s something worth working toward together.