"Find Some Friends." I keep saying that, in various blog postings. I am saying it again, now.
Small groups of friends, taking action, are the way we change the world. That's what Margaret Mead tells us, and I say that Margaret Mead is right. I am, in fact, speaking from personal experience. I have frequently repeated Margaret Mead's statement, in a number of different blog postings. I am doing that again, now:
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
On October 14, 2025, The Wall Street Journal's "Bookshelf" column reviewed the book pictured above, authored by Ben Rein, "Why Brains Need Friends." I am quoting quite a bit of the review, below, but paywalls permitting, you can read the entire review, authored by David A. Shaywitz, a lecturer at Harvard Medical School, by clicking the following link. The Journal titled its review, "Better Together."
My admonition, which I often repeat in these blog postings, is that we are "in this together." I am repeating myself. We are definitely "better together," and if we don't get together, we will never be effective in responding to the critical challenges we face, nor will we ever be successful in transforming the world.
We aren't, of course, just our "brains," but our brains surely play a big part in who we are. Listen to what Ben Rein has to say, in his recent book:
Mr. Rein is a neuroscientist affiliated with Stanford and SUNY Buffalo. On social media, he creates short videos that demystify neuroscience for his million-plus followers: “I explain the brain without all the mumbo-jumbo,” his TikTok profile promises. In “Why Brains Need Friends” he applies his talents to what he regards as a compelling, underappreciated body of research on social interaction, making a persuasive—and timely—case for the health value of authentic connection in a world that too often pulls us apart.
“We are meant to be together,” Mr. Rein concludes from the data. Social interactions prompt the brain to release “rewarding chemicals,” which is why engaging with others feels intrinsically pleasurable rather than burdensome. Deprivation cuts the other way: isolation is “agonizing,” Mr. Rein tells us, “one of the worst fates a human can experience.”
The numbers bear it out. Isolation is linked to a 32% higher risk of all-cause mortality. Hospital patients kept apart for infection control show more anxiety and depression and fare worse overall. Prisoners who experience isolation are 24% more likely to die in the year after release, with a marked rise in suicide.
The challenge of social isolation intensifies with age as children move out and retirement thins daily contact. By our 70s, the average adult spends more than seven hours a day alone—a concerning trend Mr. Rein calls “the largest unspoken health crisis of our time.” Isolation can be both lonely and dangerous; among adults over 65, it raises mortality risk by 57% in women and 78% in men, while memory has been found to decline about twice as fast compared to those who enjoy more connection. Yet the research is hopeful: Increasing social contact later in life can make a difference. Mr. Rein’s humane advice: “Go visit your grandparents, parents, siblings, or friends.” ....
Mr. Rein is particularly interested in empathy, our ability to inhabit the experience of others. He delights that it’s become “sort of a buzzword” and celebrates its power to motivate humanistic concern, but warns that our brains can be “a petty organ,” reserving the greatest sympathy for those most similar. Even when researchers randomly sort volunteers into contrived teams, the familiar tribal reflex appears, “engaging empathy circuits more strongly for those on their team.” Perhaps in our distant past, this bias may have been adaptive, he allows, but in today’s diverse and integrated world, where we’re “constantly surrounded by people who are unlike us,” our “brain’s outdated empathy software becomes quite problematic.” Mr. Rein implores us to override the divisive reflexes evolution has bequeathed us.
Tribal pull isn’t the brain’s only atavistic trait that struggles with modern life. For the vast expanse of human history, we engaged face-to-face with others, developing exquisite abilities to read a partner’s emotional state, instinctively mirroring gestures to sharpen our own awareness. The first letter, we learn, was penned by Queen Atossa of Persia about 2,500 years ago, meaning that “for the first 99.9 percent of humanity’s existence, the hands of evolution shaped and optimized our brains for in-person contact.” Today, dropped into phone calls, Zoom squares and social-media feeds, our brains feel, as Mr. Rein puts it, “out of place, an archaic tool,” like “a horse-drawn carriage on the autobahn.” To compensate, he encourages in-person discussions; failing that, video beats text, even if video meetings are fatiguing and can blunt creativity. And when you’re with other people, pocket the phone: Even its mere presence diverts attention and detracts from enjoyment.
Amid the dislocations of a rapidly changing world, Mr. Rein finds inspiration and hope in biology, particularly the empathy he observes across the natural world. He sees consolation in zebrafish gathering around a distressed tankmate, for example, and generosity in lab rats choosing to forgo immediate treats to free a trapped colleague, sometimes sharing the food afterward. The author acknowledges the risk of anthropomorphizing but finds the totality of evidence persuasive. He is especially taken by the emotional depth of our relationships with dogs, suggesting they bring out our “best behavior” and may improve health by buffering stress and lowering cardiovascular risk.
A gifted communicator, Mr. Rein is remarkably adept at distilling an extensive research literature into easily digested lessons. One unfortunate consequence: The marvelous, maddening nuance of intrinsically messy biology, the give-and-take of real scientific inquiry, is largely smoothed away, replaced by tidy molecular caricatures and conclusions that seem more settled than science ever is.
But his fundamental ambition isn’t to chart the uncertainties of an emerging field—it’s to say plainly what he believes the science already shows: the vital importance of connection, the harms of loneliness and the comfort of companionship. “I really think you should spend more time socializing,” he urges. “Your brain is counting on you (emphasis added).
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