Couldn't find what you looking for?

TRY OUR SEARCH!

Social distancing measures introduced to slow the spread of COVID-19 help keep our bodies healthy, but what does social isolation and a lack of physical touch do to our mental health?

"It's been great, actually," my friend Jane — who is autistic — said of the new way of life COVID-19 brought with it. Jane already worked from home before the pandemic, and prefers to socialize mainly online, through written communication. During the first few months of the pandemic, with active lockdowns going on, she found that many of her major social sources of annoyance were also eliminated. 

"The shops weren't as crowded, and what I noticed is that their music wasn't blaring as loudly as before during the early stages of the lockdown. Small talk attempts, which always leave me overwhelmed, went way down. People who are strangers to me made much less effort to initiate physical touch, like patting me on the shoulder or just generally standing way too close. I'd be happy if I never had to shake anyone's hands again."

To Jane, pre-COVID society was filled with people seeking constant, needless, and very much unwanted social interaction. Touching people without first asking if that was OK was a big part of that. 

"The only major challenge I've had with the pandemic," she said, "is that people often do not follow the rules. They do not keep the proper distance away, they do not wear masks correctly, and I see them taking their masks off." But, she adds,"as far as I'm concerned, social, which is actually physical, distancing itself is what I'd like to see all the time, even if COVID goes away."

This conversation was interesting to me, because it shows that COVID-19 caused a kind of role reversal.

The measures introduced to slow the spread of the coronavirus suit Jane's neurotype well and would increase her mental health if they appeared without the simultaneous threat of a highly contagious virus, while the pre-COVID world was a sensory and social minefield for her. Neurotypical people, on the other hand, were plunged from a world that had evolved around their social needs into one that left them starved for social interaction and physical touch. 

The new way of life COVID-19 forced us into — specifically one in which your average human would be likely to spend (much) less time interacting with people face-to-face, stays at home more, and has less physical contact with others — has hit many people hard. One bit of research from the UK suggested, for instance, that British resident's mental health worsened by "8.1 percent on average" in the first two months of the pandemic alone, with younger people suffering even greater challenges. 

What can the COVID-19 pandemic teach us about the average human's social needs, and what consequences not having those needs met can have?

What social needs are most crucial for human wellbeing — and how has COVID-19 interfered with them?

When your social needs are met, and you feel content or even happy, there's not much of a reason to dwell on this question. Since the pandemic, however, a lot of people have been feeling unsettled and emotionally disturbed, including in ways that can't quite make sense of. Research into fundamental social needs can offer insights.

People need affection, something that we get from feeling liked, loved, accepted, related to, supported, and able to support others. At a condensed level, we can probably sum this up as a safe, warm-and-fuzzy, feeling of community and belonging, or a feeling of loving and being loved by others. 

For many folks, feeling this way is closely linked to not only emotional closeness, but also physical connection. To feel loved and to express their love, people give hugs, kiss each other, or simply spend time sitting around the same table, eating a meal and maybe enjoying an alcoholic drink.

COVID-19 has very much disrupted this kind of physical closeness with people outside our immediate families or households. Not being able to high-five your nephew, hug your high school friend when you run into them on the street, or peck your coworker on the cheek when it's their birthday can have a very real negative impact on mental health. 

Affection is perhaps the most primal of human social needs — the other two main ones, behavioral confirmation and status, are derived from what you do more than who you are. Behavioral confirmation means you have your actions affirmed by people who matter to you, and status comes from receiving respect. It's usually connected with skills, educational attainments, or even personal wealth. These two needs matter, but they're not quite as close to the core of what makes us feel human as affection is.

Jane was right in pointing out that "social distancing" should really have been called "physical distancing". Some people did try that term and a rare few still use it, but it seems like "social distancing" wasn't that far off; physical distance absolutely also makes people feel emotionally and socially more isolated.

Is social distancing inducing a pandemic of poor mental health?

New research relevant to COVID-19, including studies investigating the pandemic's psychological impact, are coming out all the time, giving an ever more complete picture of what the coronavirus is doing to us. 

People most likely to suffer from mental health challenges as a result of social distancing have been identified as:

  • Elderly people — especially those who live alone or in retirement facilities.
  • Undocumented immigrants. 
  • Homeless people. 
  • People with pre-existing mental disorders. 
These groups all have two things in common; they were already marginalized before the advent of the pandemic, and they are more likely to experience barriers when it comes to connecting with others online. Elderly people, for instance, may not know how to use modern technologies, while homeless people are less likely to have access to them. 

Before the pandemic, people who were already at risk of being socially isolated could connect and find community in ways that have become much more difficult since COVID-19 invaded society. Those would include anything from religious services to yoga classes, and from Alcoholics Anonymous meetings to soup kitchens. 

It's no surprise that people who were already lonely or in some way pushed to the sidelines of society will be more impacted by the social changes COVID-19 has brought. These groups aren't the only at-risk ones, however — almost all of us will experience some negative effects. 

That includes adolescents, who research has shown do mostly try to keep to social distancing guidelines at least a little. They're at the stage in their lives where they're forming their identities, and because that's a social process, reduced close physical interaction with others disrupts it. 

Working professionals, too, have reported that social distancing is making it harder to connect creatively and be productive at work. Voice calls and video calls were found to be superior to emails or text-based messaging apps, because they are less impersonal and better mimic in-person interactions. 

One Italian study described the impact well — "As a result of COVID-19 worldwide pandemic, many people have been sucked into the bottom layers of the pyramid [of emotional needs]", the authors wrote.

They're talking about Maslow's hierarchy of social needs, and the bottom two layers deal with needs related to keeping us alive. Food, water, safety, security, shelter — yes, Maslow observed, of course those form the foundation, without which there wouldn't be anything else. The higher levels, which deal with friendship, social connection, love, feeling accomplished, and feeling you have a purpose, need to be met for a person to feel true happiness, however. 

Has COVID-19 and the social distancing that came with it robbed us of this chance?

Though research notes that loneliness greatly increases the risk of other things you don't want, like depression, anxiety, reduced functioning, and even less "brain power", it's important to remember that being physically isolated doesn't also have to necessarily mean being emotionally isolated. 

Here, we can learn from Jane, my autistic friend. "Neurotypicals always seemed to think I was lonely and isolated," she said, referring to life pre-COVID. "But I wasn't, and I am not! Without people's physical presence, and all the noises and lights going to places brings, I can concentrate on their ideas and their thoughts, and that's when I feel closest to people, and happiest."

Jane knows that a computer screen can very much be a bridge, rather than a barrier, to true human connection. If only the rest of us could catch up!

Your thoughts on this

User avatar Guest
Captcha