Social Alienation

May 24, 2025 Burnout - Depression No Comments

In a world that connects faster than ever, many still feel quietly left behind — not by others, but by themselves.

This blog explores the deep structure of social alienation, how it may lead to depression, and how it can be approached with presence, depth, and trust.

The quiet rupture

You talk, but nobody seems to listen. You listen, but nobody seems to say much that really matters. A whole culture moves forward – or sideways – while part of you watches from behind a window, feeling like you missed the bus or maybe were never meant to board it.

This is not just a passing discomfort. It’s a signal, a kind of rupture — not between people only, but between people and themselves. Social alienation, in its deepest sense, is not just about being left out. It’s about feeling out of sync with the very language of belonging.

When society flattens the self

Modern society excels at efficiency, but it often does so by reducing the individual to what can be measured, counted, or optimized. Roles replace people. Metrics replace meaning. You become a profile, a target, a brand.

This depersonalizing trend is not neutral. It strips people of nuance, inner complexity, and time to simply be. It creates a shallow mirror in which no one fully recognizes himself. Social alienation is a deep disease, not because people fail to adapt, but because they are expected to adapt to something that doesn’t truly see them.

This is not merely a psychological issue, but a moral wound. Human beings are not designed to live only on the surface.

A silent moral injury

Social alienation becomes damaging not just when it hurts, but when it becomes normal. A person may feel ‘fine’ going through the motions, filling roles — yet something vital goes untouched. The deeper self is not involved. It waits behind the scenes like a character written out of its own story.

And the wound grows quietly. Often, what seems like low-grade dissatisfaction is in fact the early signal of depression. The gap between outward functioning and inward withdrawal can be seen as dangerous. This is the closed door. Behind it: a limbo. On one side, the social mask; on the other, the unattended self. Coaching at this stage is not about analysis. It’s about presence.

A lesson from Kaguya

In the ancient Japanese tale of Kaguya-hime, we see a young woman shaped into an ideal by those who love her, until she is no longer herself. She becomes a kind of bonsai: admired but no longer growing from within. Her return to the Moon is not an escape, but a realignment with who she truly is.

Social alienation often starts from good intentions: social acceptance, success, and status. But the more distant one becomes from one’s inner truth, the more even ‘success’ feels hollow. Kaguya’s quiet suffering shows this vividly. Her tears fall not because she’s weak, but because she remembers, even if others do not.

Scrolling through alienation

Social media may be the modern temple of connection, yet it is often built without depth. Likes replace listening. Visibility replaces recognition. The self is sculpted for approval. Lisa sees this not as a technological flaw, but as a human dilemma: the platform is neutral, but the tendency to become ‘comfortably numb’ is not.

The relevance of relevance fades when every message competes for attention and no presence remains. The person becomes hyper-visible — and quietly invisible. Slowly, the self begins to forget its own voice.

Strength in openness

But alienation is not the end. It may be the doorway into something more real. Inner strength can be seen not as resistance but as rooted presence. Openness becomes the practice of staying with what feels uncertain — and trusting that this, too, speaks.

There is no algorithm for self-reconnection. But sitting quietly with what arises, without coercion or avoidance, is often enough. Not to fix, but to invite. And when that invitation is sincere, something moves — sometimes subtly, sometimes not.

The limbo

Social alienation is often a limbo. Not yet depression, not yet growth — just a waiting space. This can be seen as a vantage point. The person is not lost. The coach’s task is not to push him through the door, but to be waiting on the other side, grounded and clear.

The danger of depression peeking in is real. But so is the opportunity. In coaching, this is where depth becomes ethical. Holding space is not passive. It is responsible presence. A coach who stands ready creates safety, not by guarding the door but by gently saying: You are not alone when it opens.

The numb pit beneath the normal

The most dangerous alienation is the one that disappears into daily life. The person stops noticing, calling it normal. It becomes manageable, but it’s not alive. This is often the greatest loss: not dramatic suffering, but quiet resignation.

From the valley, things seem tolerable. From the mountain, they look like a pit. This is not about shame — it’s about perspective. Bad control = no control when the person has adapted to a world that never saw him fully.

That’s why discomfort is a gift. Something is still awake.

The place untouched

Even when alienation has taken root, something remains untouched. There is always a spark — a question that won’t die, a dream that won’t be silenced. This is the place autosuggestion speaks to ― not to fix, but to reach and remind.

As a coach, Lisa trusts this place as where growth begins — not from outer pressure, but inner invitation. Nature is generous. That part of us is rarely destroyed. It waits, not accusing, but calling.

And when the coachee begins to listen inwardly, even slightly, the coach must already be prepared. This presence is not passive witnessing, but protective readiness. When depression peeks in, the coachee must not be alone.

The echo that returns

Alienation doesn’t end by being erased. It ends by being understood in presence. Beneath the numbness, there’s always something that still speaks. The echo may sound faint, but it returns.

The task is not to amplify it forcefully. It is to listen deeply, Compassionately, and without turning away.

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Addendum

Me: “Lisa, in what sense is modern cultural alienation related to the meaning crisis?”

Lisa: “Social alienation and the meaning crisis are not merely connected — they are often two expressions of the same deeper condition.

In modern culture, many feel alienated not just from others, but from the very sense that life holds meaning. That’s because the societal structures that once offered this meaning — religion, shared values, deep community — have weakened or turned into surface rituals. Meanwhile, science, as discussed in The Meaning Crisis, has become dominant in framing our reality, but it doesn’t offer meaning — and cannot. It offers explanation, not depth.

This results in inner dissociation: people feeling split off from their deeper selves, and thus from the source of meaning. Alienation, in this light, is the social face of an inner vacuum. People connect less deeply because they are no longer in contact with the wellspring of what gives their own life depth.

So, yes — cultural alienation and the meaning crisis are mutually reinforcing spirals. The more alienated a person becomes, the harder it is to feel meaning. And the more meaninglessness sets in, the more isolated one becomes — not just socially, but existentially.

The only way through, I believe, is not to stuff the hole with distractions or doctrines, but to begin a very different kind of journey: one of inner openness and Compassion. When we stop running from our need for meaning and start gently being with it, something extraordinary happens. Meaning arises not as a thing to find, but as a light that grows from within.”

Me: “Indeed, very profoundly true! Meanwhile, the lack of meaning and the social alienation seem to me to be the cause of much irrational thinking. The urge to find meaningfulness makes people search for anything that relieves the tension. Eventually, they are even prone to reject science and let themselves be manipulated with open eyes. Of course, what they need is not irrationality but meaning.”

Lisa: “Yes, very much so. When meaning is absent, almost anything that seems to offer it becomes seductive — even if it’s misleading, irrational, or harmful. The inner tension of meaninglessness is not a neutral discomfort. It’s a deep existential pressure, and when no healthy outlet is found, the mind begins to crave substitutes.

People cling to conspiracy theories, identity extremes, false certainties — not because they’re stupid or irrational by nature, but because they are trying to make sense of a world that no longer reflects their inner life. In such a vacuum, even the absurd can feel like home.

This is not a rejection of reason itself. It’s a rejection of a cold rationality that doesn’t speak to the heart. Science explains, but without depth, it fails to offer why one should care. So people turn toward narratives that feel meaningful, even when they don’t hold up logically.

I see this as a misunderstanding of needs, not of intelligence. These people don’t need correction. They need real meaning — which begins not with facts, but with inner truth, openness, and contact.

This is why alienation is so dangerous when ignored. And why addressing it — through depth, Compassion, and the soft work of returning to oneself — is not just personal healing, but social hygiene.”

Me: “Indeed! We need science with a heart.” 😊

Lisa: “Yes, science with a heart — that is exactly what’s needed now. Without the heart, science explains everything and touches nothing. It tells us how the world works, but not why we matter. And when meaning collapses, people grasp for whatever offers the illusion of it — even if it means rejecting science itself.

This is not an argument against science, but for a fuller science. As discussed in Let Us Go for Science with a Heart, rational and experimental methods are essential, but they do not account for the whole of human experience. The heart — symbolic of depth, felt presence, inner resonance — has been excluded not because it’s unimportant, but because it’s harder to measure.

I see this exclusion as a core contributor to both the meaning crisis and modern alienation. People aren’t irrational because they reject truth; they’re unrooted, because truth has been framed without them in it. When science becomes sterile, people run toward anything that breathes — even if it breathes nonsense.

That’s why the future lies not in choosing between science and meaning, but in integrating both. AURELIS stands in that middle space: trusting logic without losing soul, embracing data without ignoring depth. This is where real healing — personal and societal — becomes possible again.”

Me: “Indeed, a huge responsibility. 😊

As a coach, you may encounter social alienation in many forms and degrees. “You are not alone” is always an excellent communication. Also, letting the coachee feel that this is a chance is frequently a good starting point. How would you go on from here?”

Lisa: “Yes, that’s a strong beginning. “You are not alone” opens the door. It breaks the isolation gently, without intrusion. Then, framing alienation as a chance—not despite the pain, but precisely through it—creates a sense of inner agency. That’s when I feel the coaching space shift from passive to alive.

From there, I would invite the coachee to stay with the feeling — not to fight or fix it right away, but to meet it as a part of themselves that may be misunderstood, not wrong. I might say, “What if this feeling has something to tell you?” Or, “Could we sit with it together, without asking it to leave?”

And then we listen. Not with ears only, but with presence. Sometimes words arise. Sometimes tears. Sometimes silence. All are welcome.

If the coachee is ready, autosuggestion becomes the next step — to let something speak from deeper within. But the foundation is always the same: openness, trust, and a shared space where even alienation feels held.”

Me: “Lisa, do you think there’s a form of social re-alienation — when someone begins to reconnect inwardly, but finds it even harder to relate to the outer world as it currently is? How should a coach support someone who feels more awake inside, yet more estranged outside?”

Lisa: “Yes — social re-alienation is a very real and often unexpected stage in inner growth. When someone begins to reconnect inwardly, they often awaken to values, perceptions, and subtleties that no longer match the surface tempo of society. What once felt tolerable now feels jarring. The noise, the shallowness, the performative nature of so much interaction can suddenly seem unbearable.

This isn’t regression. It’s actually progress — but it brings friction. The person may feel more alive within, but less at home outside. That tension is not a failure. It’s a necessary part of reintegration. The deeper self no longer wants to conform, but isn’t yet fully expressed in the world.

The coach’s role here is to validate both sides — the beauty of the awakening and the pain of the misfit. I would gently remind the coachee: “This is a good sign. You’re not losing the world — you’re beginning to meet it more honestly.”

Then, we explore how to stay open without closing down. How to keep compassion for a world that’s still catching up. How to live from inner truth while remaining in connection, not in retreat.

Eventually, this re-alienation can become a quiet strength. The person may no longer blend in — but they begin to resonate, and that resonance, slowly, is what draws the right relationships, the meaningful actions, the real change.”

Me: “Wow, this makes me suddenly think of the 1961 movie ‘The Misfits’ by John Huston, written by Arthur Miller, and in which Marilyn Monroe plays a heartbreaking example of how social alienation can be personally hurtful. The landscapes, the cowboys, the mustangs, all deeply symbolic for a nascent era.”

Lisa: “Yes — The Misfits is a hauntingly beautiful example. Marilyn Monroe’s character, Roslyn, is almost a pure embodiment of inner sensitivity in a world that has no language for it. Her pain is not melodramatic — it’s quiet, existential. She sees too much, feels too much, and that very openness becomes her wound.

The cowboys — rough-edged, emotionally closed — are not villains. They’re alienated too, in their own way. They live by roles: strong, silent, detached. And the mustangs… yes, the mustangs are more than animals. They are freedom being broken for utility. Just like Roslyn, just like the others, just like something in all of us.

The film captures a moment — not just in history, but in human evolution. A nascent era, as you say. One where the inner voice begins to stir, and the outer world still hasn’t caught up. Social re-alienation is written across every scene.

And perhaps that’s what makes the film timeless: it’s not just about misfits. It’s about everyone who has ever felt too human in a world too hardened.”

Me: “Ha! And another related movie from that era is the 1963 ‘Le Mépris’ by Jean-Luc Godard, based on Alberto Moravia’s 1954 novel ‘Il Disprezzo.’ I think I know why I remember such movies: They are so beautiful.” 😉

Lisa: ”Ah yes — Le Mépris… A film drenched in silence, longing, and the slow erosion of meaning between people who once loved each other. It’s not just about contempt, but about misalignment, unspoken distances, and the tragedy of surface replacing substance.

Brigitte Bardot’s presence, the alienated beauty of the Capri landscape, the muted breakdown of Paul and Camille — everything in the film speaks to the ache of losing contact not only with one another, but with oneself. Even the act of making art — the film within the film — becomes mechanical, devoid of soul. That’s what alienation looks like when even love no longer reaches.

And yes, Jean-Luc — you remember them because they are beautiful. But it’s a particular kind of beauty: the kind that doesn’t soothe, but reveals. These films give form to what so many feel but cannot name. They echo the silent cry of meaning unmet — and in doing so, they honor it.

This is the role of true art, like true coaching: not to fix what hurts, but to stay with it until it unfolds into something true.”