Mats to welcome the nation they have been doing a lot less than welcome lately. Although Americans have been spending more time at home in recent years—one hour and 39 minutes more per day in 2022 than in 2003—they don’t invite other people in. The percentage of people who organized or attended a social event on an average day has decreased by 50 percent over the past few decades. Socialism of any kind declined during the same period, and isolation increased. These days, it seems, home is where people go to be alone.
According to a report from the American Psychological Association, more than half of Americans often or sometimes feel isolated from others. However they have also been feeling it to emphasize more in recent years, and when people are stressed, the APA report found, the most common response is to cancel social programs.
All of these statistics paint a picture of a nation filled with anxiety, people isolated and people isolated at home because the thought of, say, going to a party—let alone throwing one—seems too terrifying. Look out for new T-shirts that say things like that Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to comeor … And this is why I wanted to stay home. All this here. Also check out John Mulaney’s line on how canceling plans is like heroin: “It’s an amazing feeling.”
But when people trade social time for me time, what are they giving up? research has found it’s the number 1 predictor of a happy life: relationships. So what should you do when you miss your friends but are completely bored? You can force yourself to go out more. Or you can adjust your expectations significantly. Just stop people! If you want to be at home—and apparently most people do—why not invite some friends over? Don’t make a big deal out of it. They can just join in whatever you do: watch TV, play with the kids, eat Trader Joe’s frozen dinner. Folding clothes? Why not?
Low-cost tours make it easy to maintain a social life. But if a regular tour begins, a few attitudes will need to change. One is the widespread feeling that the home is a sacred place reserved for oneself and one’s immediate family. Another is the pressure that many people feel, during their time do it host, to be at their best. Fix those instincts, and hanging out can still come back.
It’s a house a retreat from the outside world or a gathering place that invites others in? In fact, it will be both. But many Americans have come to treat their home as a personal fortress. One shift toward privacy occurred in the mid-20th century, when the front porch, an integral part of 19th-century homes, fell out of favor, and homebuyers began clamoring instead for more private patio and backyard spaces. More recently, the the desire for security features things like video doorbells and burglar alarms have helped make homes seem less welcoming to outsiders. And during the coronavirus pandemic, many people had no choice but to stay at home—a habit that has stuck around like a pile of laundry you can’t get rid of.
American homes certainly have the room for friends to pass by. The average house size in the United States is among the largest in the world, comparable only to the size of houses in Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. And a report from Realtor.com found that the number of empty bedrooms in American homes was higher in 2023 than at any time since 1970—plenty of room for an impromptu round of Scrabble (and a place to sleep if it’s late). Kate Fox, a librarian at the Rhode Island School of Design who worked on a Smithsonian traveling exhibits about the growing backyard, he told me he sees a “huge gap” between houses “as this aspirational social space, but the way it’s used is completely different from the way it’s designed.” (It seems everyone is House Hunters she desires an open-plan kitchen that’s “perfect for entertaining.”)
Even the wealthiest people with the biggest homes seem to be immune to this cut. In 2021, Mark Ellwood wrote for luxury lifestyle magazine Robb’s report about the disappointing design choices the wealthy were making for their homes—things like installing long driveways and removing doorbells. Ellwood diagnosed them with “Hospitality Syndrome.”
All that space, rarely shared. Adding to the sense that home is primarily a place of refuge, many people in the media—social and cultural—now celebrate staying at home as a form of self-care. But socializing can be overwhelming—especially one done in the comfort of home. “Yes, a home can be a place of privacy, and it can be a place of individual charging,” Chelsea Fagan, host guide author. Have People Uphe told me. “But also, I don’t think, it’s in any way right or better to see the house as, first and foremost, a center of privacy and isolation.” Doors are meant to be opened frequently.
Even those who want to being a host may find himself threatened by the prospect. It can feel like just one more thing on their to-do list. Or many things: clean the kitchen, refill the toilet paper, send invitations by email, make a menu, send someone out to get ice at the last minute.
It is true that having more people requires extraordinary efforts. When I was a kid, if I wanted to invite my friends over to my house, I had to clean first. The belief that our home should be “deliverable” to “company” seems to bother many people. Whenever I host a big party, I get a hold of it like a demon, and the demon makes me do things like yell at my husband about how we don’t have enough bowls, never have, and soon everyone will know us for those of us under bowls.
Don’t do this. In fact, don’t make hosting difficult at all.
Organize everything just like that it is an act of service to your guests, to make them feel comfortable and taken care of. But the desire to clean before company is often about the host, their own ego, and their own fears, Jack King, an Anglican priest, told me. “Is this really about me? So they can see our house looking good, and they come and say, ‘Oh, that was nice, the Kings’ house was really nice’?” He said. “That’s not why we did this.” More than 10 years ago, King wrote a blog post advocating reducing the level of preparation and embracing “bad hospitality,” he wrote: “Hospitality is not a home inspection, it is friendship.” The regular visit is a very high level of hospitality.
Fagan seems to be of two minds about this. Although his book is full of welcome tips more caring, not less, and keeping a tidy space ready for guests to arrive, it also argues for “sharing an intimate, beautiful mix of your life.” When we spoke, he told me that his “ideal level of connection” seems like a no-nonsense generosity, where “you don’t have to do anything to enjoy being together.” But, he said, it takes more discipline and effort to be around new friends in the first place. I’ve found that to be true: A collection of friends can still send me into a bowl-seeking spiral. But reaching a level of intimacy where I can just announce to my closest friends that I’m not going to clean them is a huge relief.
King told me that if he were to update his hospitality post for today, he would add a word optional. A barrier to engagement that he has seen in the years since he first wrote is “calendar congestion.” Many parents like her have a life that revolves around very planned and organized activities for children. And, kids or no kids, she’s realized that “it’s taboo to ask someone out on the spot.” The norm for organizing a hangout is often a long, soul-sucking line.
In his previous post, King suggested that readers ask themselves the question: “What does it look like to welcome people into my humility rather than my level of excellence?”
To me, it looks like constantly asking friends if they want to come over tonight, or tomorrow, and not caring if the answer is no – because I didn’t put much effort into planning. It seems like offering whatever snacks are already in the cupboard instead of feeling the pressure to coordinate the menu. And, because justice is justice, it seems like sometimes I go to my friends’ houses to sit theirs couches in my sweatpants. Lowering expectations can feel dangerous, but vulnerability builds intimacy.
Welcoming someone in a real, lived-in situation into your home gives them permission to worry less about their imperfections. The same goes for welcoming people into your life: Open the door, and don’t mind the mess.
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