25/05/2025

ON SUNDAY MAY 25, 2025 theSunday Special III

Research from South Korea (Kim & Kim, 2024) reveals that being male, older, unmarried and of lower income all increase the likelihood of experienc ing urban isolation. The risk factors are diverse and deeply embedded in the socio-economic fabric of city life. Chua believes the answer lies in improv ing what she calls “social infrastructure”, borrowing the term from the UK’s Local Trust. “Social infrastructure refers to the institutions and physical spaces that sup port shared civic life. This includes places where people can form and maintain relationships, where communities can gather and organise and where individuals can access social and economic opportuni ties,” she explains. Think community centres, well-main WDLQHG SDUNV D̆ RUGDEOH SXEOLF WUDQVSRUW and spaces where spontaneous interaction can occur. It may sound simple, but in high-density cities, such spaces are often under threat from rapid development, privatisation and neglect. The cultural hurdle There’s also a question of culture. In Asian societies, where interdependence is a core value, loneliness often carries a stigma. Admitting to feeling lonely can be interpreted as a failure to maintain relationships, to belong, to be needed. This cultural script discourages open ness, driving emotional isolation even further underground. Yet the reality is that ORQHOLQHVV GRHVQ¶W GLVFULPLQDWH ,W D̆ HFWV the single executive as much as the stay at-home mother, the elderly pensioner as much as the overworked junior executive. It’s often hidden in plain sight. Meanwhile, technology and urban design continue to evolve in ways that don’t always prioritise social interaction. Gated communities, ride-hailing apps,

“The more we substitute digital interac tion for genuine human contact, the more

isolated we often feel.” How cities are built

Beyond digital pitfalls, structural changes in city living have also contributed to the sense of isolation. Malaysian urbanites increasingly live in high-rise condomini ums and gated communities, which are designed more for privacy and security than for fostering a sense of community. Chua points out that urban planning decisions play a critical role. How we build our cities can either encourage interactions or reinforce isolation. When communal spaces are neglected or absent, spontaneous connections become less frequent. So, what’s the solution? That’s where things get complicated. “We still lack robust evidence on what kinds of interventions actually work to reduce urban isolation. Because the issue is complex, especially in city environ ments, it requires a whole-of-government approach. There’s no one-size-fits-all model,” she said.

Much more remains to be done, especially when it comes to acknowledging that loneliness isn’t just a personal issue, it’s a public one.”

There is hope If there is a silver lining, it’s this: Awareness is growing. Public health campaigns, mental wellness initia tives and even architecture and urban planning are beginning to consider social connection as a critical com ponent of healthy living. In Malaysia, NGOs like Relate Malaysia are advo cating for deeper research and more tailored community programmes to tackle emotional isolation. But much more remains to be done, especially when it comes to acknowledging that loneliness isn’t just a personal issue, it’s a public one. Through its advocacy work, counsel ling services and public education, Relate Malaysia aims to destigmatise mental health issues and make help more approachable for everyday Malaysians. The truth is, as humans, we were never wired to live in emotional isolation even if we now do so in sleek, high-rise apartments with fast internet and the illusion of connec tion just a swipe away. The longer we ignore or downplay the growing tide of urban loneliness, the more it hardens into something we begin to accept as normal. That quiet ac ceptance is dangerous. But the good news is this: Change doesn’t always require a grand strategy or a government-funded initiative. Sometimes, it begins with the smallest of gestures – a smile in the lift instead of avoiding eye con WDFW WDNLQJ ¿YH PLQXWHV WR FKDW ZLWK your neighbour instead of rushing SDVW ¿QDOO\ VFKHGXOLQJ WKDW RYHUGXH FR̆ HH FDWFK XS RU FKRRVLQJ WR FDOO someone instead of sending another “haha” reaction to their Instagram story. These simple acts remind us and those around us that we’re still here, still human and still capable of genuine connection. Urban isolation is not just a health concern; it’s a design flaw in the way we’re increasingly living. But just as it’s been created, it can be slowly unpicked – one interaction, one conversation, one open door at a time. So maybe it starts with looking up from our screens and reaching out.

contactless everything – while convenient, these shifts can also reduce the incidental interactions that form the glue of com munal life. Urban loneliness is not just a by-product of modern life; in some ways, LW¶V D GHVLJQ ÀDZ 5HYHUVLQJ WKDW UHTXLUHV intentional, cross-sector collaboration among policymakers, urban planners, HPSOR\HUV DQG SXEOLF KHDOWK Ṙ FLDOV “Community initiatives, such as neigh bourhood watch groups, weekend farmers’ PDUNHWV RU ORFDO ¿WQHVV FOXEV DUH FUXFLDO 7KH\ QRW RQO\ R̆ HU VWUXFWXUHG ZD\V WR engage but also organically foster genuine interactions.” Chua also highlights how small businesses, local cafes and restau rants often become critical social nodes in urban areas, providing informal yet vital community hubs.

There’s surprisingly little research on how widespread urban isolation is among working adults and young professionals in Malaysia.”

The sensation is familiar to many living in city environments, the quiet in public spaces where no one makes eye contact.