In Singapore, where efficiency and connectivity are national virtues, a quiet epidemic of loneliness is spreading—especially among young men. A survey by the Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) paints a sobering picture of emotional isolation in one of the world’s most digitally networked societies. Conducted among more than 2,300 Singapore citizens and permanent residents aged 21 to 64, the study found that younger adults report far higher levels of loneliness and social anxiety than any other age group. The findings, released ahead of the Singapore Perspectives 2024 conference, challenge the comfortable stereotype that loneliness is a problem only for the elderly. Instead, it appears that the city-state’s millennials and Gen Zs—particularly men—are the ones quietly struggling to connect.
The IPS used a simple but telling three-question measure: how often respondents felt a lack of companionship, felt left out, or felt isolated from others. Younger Singaporeans, especially those aged 21 to 34, scored significantly higher on this loneliness scale than middle-aged or older adults. This is not entirely surprising in a society where work hours are long, housing is expensive, and the pressure to perform is relentless. Yet what stands out most is how sharply these feelings of isolation seem to affect young men—many of whom admit to finding it easier to talk to people online than in person.
According to the IPS findings, more than half of respondents in their twenties and early thirties said they were more comfortable communicating digitally than face-to-face, and 56 percent confessed to feeling anxious about in-person interactions. For young men, these tendencies can be amplified by gender expectations that discourage emotional openness. In a culture that still prizes stoicism and self-reliance, men are often taught to suppress vulnerability—to “man up” rather than admit to feeling alone. But this emotional armor, once considered a marker of strength, has become a prison. Many young men are lonely not because they lack people around them, but because they have learned not to reach out.
Sociologists note that the modern Singaporean man faces a unique social paradox. He grows up in a densely populated, hyper-connected city yet often experiences a profound sense of disconnection. The digital sphere offers constant contact but shallow intimacy; conversations happen in group chats and gaming servers, but genuine friendship and emotional support remain elusive. During the pandemic, lockdowns deepened this reliance on screens, and for many, the habit stuck. The IPS poll suggests that this reliance on online communication has left a residue of social anxiety: the more people talk online, the more awkward real-life encounters become.
Loneliness among young men also intersects with broader economic and social pressures. In a society that equates success with stability and achievement, men who feel adrift—struggling with career uncertainty, rising costs of living, or the expectation to be providers—may retreat into isolation. Dating, too, has become fraught. Several local studies suggest that young Singaporean men are dating less, marrying later, and spending more time in virtual or transactional relationships. This trend compounds the sense of disconnection. Without strong friendship networks or family intimacy, loneliness becomes chronic, a quiet ache masked by work routines and digital distractions.
Experts have warned that this emotional isolation is not just a personal issue but a public-health concern. International studies link loneliness to higher rates of depression, anxiety, and even cardiovascular disease. In Singapore, where mental-health stigma remains strong, many young men suffer in silence. They are unlikely to seek therapy or confide in friends. Instead, they drown their solitude in overwork, gaming, or endless scrolling—coping mechanisms that temporarily numb the void but deepen it over time.
The IPS report calls attention to the need for social policies and community initiatives that encourage real human connection. Some groups have already begun experimenting with creative approaches—like men’s support circles, volunteer networks, and sports communities that prioritize emotional well-being as much as fitness. Yet the challenge remains cultural as much as structural. Singapore’s young men need not only more spaces to talk but permission to be vulnerable in the first place.
Loneliness, as the IPS survey reminds us, is not just about being alone. It is about the gap between the relationships we have and the ones we crave. In a society that moves at high speed and measures worth by productivity, that gap can feel enormous. For young Singaporean men caught between modern expectations and unspoken insecurities, learning to bridge it—one honest conversation at a time—may be the most urgent social task of all.