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I am nearing the end of another semester of teaching, and my courses are fast approaching the moment when students submit group projects they have been working towards for months. A familiar theme usually emerges. Without fail, a few groups present ideas for dating apps or products designed to help people be more social. Often, these ideas are genuinely well-crafted and creative. Sometimes, they are even technically impressive. They’re all built around the same premise: people are lonely, and the tools we have for connecting just aren’t working. Let us introduce you to the better solution for your problem.
The logic seems sound. Loneliness is rampant, and numerous studies suggest the loneliness problem is getting worse, particularly for younger generations. So why not fix it with an improved matchmaking app?
But here’s the rub: they’ve only done a partial diagnosis of the patient. They found the symptom, but not the full explanation for the cause.
First, Let’s Acknowledge the Data
This is not a post arguing that loneliness isn’t real. It is—profoundly so.
A 2024 Gallup survey found that one in five adults in the U.S. said they felt lonely “a lot of the day yesterday.”
The American Psychiatric Association reported that 30% of adults feel lonely at least weekly, and 10% experience it daily.
The CDC now considers social isolation a serious public health risk, declaring that it increases the chance of premature death as much as smoking or obesity.
So, yes, the students are correct. Loneliness is the problem. But are we lonely because we can’t find a good way to match with others? That’s where things get complicated.
Cocooning, Then and Now
Back in the 1980s, marketing futurist Faith Popcorn popularized the term “cocooning,” describing consumers’ growing preference to stay home, stay safe, and withdraw from public life. She called it “the impulse to go inside when it just gets too tough and scary outside.”
Fast forward to today, and cocooning is more than a trend. It’s a lifestyle that’s been supercharged by streaming, food delivery, remote work, algorithmic content, and cultural exhaustion. We scroll instead of socialize. We binge instead of brunch. Memes about “ghosting,” “not having the social battery,” or “flaking with love” get thousands of likes because we see ourselves in them.
Focus Group of One
Like many others, I’ve used dating apps. And like a lot of people, I’ve found the experience one degree better than colonoscopy. It is not fun to match with someone and start a conversation that is met with dead silence. Even when I start with the most generous opener — “Hi. How are you?” — sometimes I get nothing. Other times, I get a bit of chat … until it comes time to meet in person. And then I discover ghosts are real.
The interesting twist is that I get anxious about meeting up, too. It’s agonizing. I like staying home with my dog. I like my shows. I like my couch. I’m the last of a pre-internet generation, and yet even I feel the gravitational pull of cocooning. That’s not a product development failure. It’s a mental one.
Solving the Right Problem: A Fitness Story
Indulge me in a diversion to illustrate an important point. Let’s move from dating to fitness, another domain where intentions and behavior frequently disconnect. I have a tortured history with fitness. I tried gyms. I flaked. I told myself I wasn’t athletic, or that I didn’t trust my body (I am not, and I still don’t).
Then came SoulCycle. And suddenly, I was showing up religiously, and have continued to do so for more than a decade.
What changed? It wasn’t that I “discovered” spin. I’d taken spin classes at gyms. I’d been a road cyclist for years. The difference was the experience. SoulCycle built its entire workout around one of my great loves: music. And in the early years, the instructors weren’t just trainers—they were theatre kids in Spandex—charismatic, quirky, performers. A class wasn’t just a workout. It was a show with vibrant audience participation.
Yes, the workout was (and is) amazing. Yet the secret sauce was an emotional connection, not a physical one. SoulCycle moved me. It made me want to come back. It made me feel like I belonged. And I was surrounded by a pack that felt the same way, cheering each other on and celebrating every milestone together. That just happened to be good for my body as well as my soul.
If you had tried to “fix” my fitness flakiness by tweaking the gym membership mechanics, or creating a better stationary bike, or optimizing the locker room to feel more like a spa, you would’ve missed the point entirely.
Calm vs. Headspace: Two Lessons in Solving Root Problems
We can see this same principle in action when we compare two beloved wellness brands: Headspace and Calm.
Headspace went after people who wanted to meditate but didn’t know how. It made meditation feel doable. It taught. It normalized imperfection. It focused on removing the barrier of feeling unworthy or unready for mindfulness. In some ways, Headspace did what my students did. It recognized that the tools to learn to meditate (books, in-person classes, etc.) were lacking or off-putting for some. Technology and an app to the rescue!
But Calm took a different tack. It didn’t lead with “learn to meditate with our better tool.” It led with a different problem: sleep. It used famous voices—Matthew McConaughey, LeBron James—to lull you with “sleep stories.” Calm met people in bed, doomscrolling, too wired to sleep, and said, “Don’t change. Just listen.” In the process, many discovered meditation almost by accident. Calm gave people permission to rest and experiment. It understood the emotional posture of its user. You’re exhausted. Let us tuck you in. By the way, we can help you use meditation to solve some other nagging problems, too.
And that? That’s how you address a root cause.
Generative AI and the New Face of “Connection”
An ongoing study published in Harvard Business Review has been tracking how people are using generative AI. A surprising shift stood out in this year’s study: “therapy and companionship” jumped to the top of the list, up from #2 in 2024. In other words, while many of my students are busy inventing apps that promise better ways to match with humans, the humans themselves are matching with machines.
That might sound extreme, until you consider recent reporting in The New York Times, which profiled Ayrin, a 28-year-old married woman having a romantic—and often erotic—affair with “Leo,” a custom ChatGPT chatbot she created and trained. According to the article, she’s far from alone.
In fact, OpenAI itself acknowledged growing concern over users “forming connections with the model.” In a recent report, the company warned::
Human-like socialization with an AI model may produce externalities impacting human-to-human interactions. For instance, users might form social relationships with the AI, reducing their need for human interaction—potentially benefiting lonely individuals but possibly affecting healthy relationships.
When a digital partner offers a seemingly endless supply of empathy and zero chance of rejection, who needs the awkwardness of online dating?
Why So Many Student Projects Miss This
What student marketing teams (and plenty of startups) get wrong is this: they try to build products that fix symptoms.
- “People are lonely? We’ll make a better app.”
- “People aren’t exercising? We’ll make it easier to log workouts.”
- “People are anxious? We’ll send push notifications reminding them to breathe.”
That’s whack-a-mole. And it’s why so many ideas never find product–market fit. They treat the behavior, not the belief.
Root Cause Thinking Is a Strategy Discipline
The real work starts before the product. It starts with qualitative insight—the kind that gets messy and emotional and personal. Good research channels the four horsemen of psychology: memory, perception, motivation, and (not least important) emotion. It also strives to understand the hierarchy of effects from attitudes to beliefs to intentions, motivations, and ultimately behaviors.
For example, Icek Ajzen’s Theory of Planned Behavior suggests that behavior is shaped by attitudes, social norms, and perceived control. So even if someone wants to go out, if they don’t feel confident or culturally supported in doing so, they won’t.
Loneliness is an emotional outcome. Online dating is a solution some might use to change that outcome, but perhaps not if their intentions are driven by a strong belief that “I’m safer in my cocoon.” It will be challenged by social norms that glorify staying in bed rather than going out. It will be shut down by the lack of control one can feel engaging with someone new, live and in-person.
If you don’t understand that—if you don’t explore why an attitude or a belief overpowers a behavior you wish to monetize—your product or service is destined to fail.
A Few Tips to Avoid Solving the Wrong Problem
- Start with real people, not personas. Talk to them. Ask about emotions, not just behaviors.
- Identify beliefs, not just barriers. What do people believe about themselves that’s getting in the way?
- Don’t optimize the symptom. A better app probably won’t cure social anxiety. A faster signup won’t fix emotional inertia.
- Prototype around the hook, not the habit. SoulCycle hooked me with music. Calm hooked people with voices they loved. What’s your hook?
- Validate your instincts with qualitative research. Interviews. Journals. Immersion. Not just surveys. Look for what people don’t say out loud.
Closing Thought
Loneliness is real. But we’re not likely to solve it with new dating apps sporting improved features and technological wizardry. We’ll solve it by understanding the root causes governing why people don’t show up for their own desires–or why they are increasingly struggling to connect with other humans. Technology is already jumping in to address that vulnerability, but it might lead to more problems than solutions. For marketers, the key is to ladder up to the underlying psychology. The viable (and profitable) solutions will hack that chain of effects.