America appears to be suffering from a fun shortage. For the industries supplying recreational amenities, this deficit is a business opportunity. But for everyone not positioned to profit from the trend, it’s a source of stress and frustration that’s been building for a while. It also has broad ramifications for the future of the economy, society and politics. On the eve of the country’s 250th birthday, it’s worth pondering whether the pursuit of happiness has become more difficult.
First, a quick definition: Experts on these matters generally agree that the kinds of fun we should be striving for are enjoyable experiences with others. A live show with friends, a vacation with family or even small talk with a stranger can all make us feel more connected and content.
By those measures, it’s clear that Americans are having less fun than they used to. Since its 2003 inception, the Bureau of Labor Statistics’ American Time Use Survey shows double-digit percentage drops in the hours spent each year on arts and entertainment activities, attending sports or recreational events, and attending or hosting social events. In a 2024 US Census Bureau survey, almost 80% of respondents said they saw friends or relatives fewer than three times a week.
The US, along with Australia, Canada and New Zealand, seems to have grown uniquely unhappy over the past 15 years, according to the annual World Happiness Report, which combines data on more than 140 countries. For good reason, we often blame smartphones and social media for making us feel worse. But most of the world uses these digital tools at least as much as Americans do, and the US still came in 23rd on the global happiness ranking in 2026, down from 13th a decade prior. America’s happiness decline must have another major cause, says report co-editor and University of British Columbia professor emeritus of economics John Helliwell. He points to the “often forgotten” factor of fun. “It’s not just connections” with other people, he says. “It’s how much you’re enjoying the connections.”
I feel bad for folks.
Fwiw, though, this is a solveable problem. I know, because it’s just not a problem in my world. I live in Oakland, California, and the town has constant free activities. We’ve got music at farmers markets and magicians at the library and dance parties by the lake. We’ve got free DnD on Saturdays at a movie theater with pay-what-you-want night every Wednesday. And book clubs? We got book clubs for miles.
Although Oakland is constantly struggling under economic dispossession, culturally we’re way ahead of the rest of the country. A better future is definitely possible. 🤙
wait. what. DnD saturdays at the local library. I want DnD saturdays. well really pathfinder.
This resonated with me because I’m a chronic worker and I don’t get out much. There also seems to be a mindset that you can get that social need fulfilled by people you encounter during work days, and thus, all your needs for socializing are met. That is problematic in itself for a variety of reasons (What if you don’t like them? What if you’re constantly working and don’t get face time with the ones you do like?). When you’re at work, you can’t relax, and if you work a lot, you have to rest when you’re not working, and don’t have time or money to “have fun”. Gasoline and events are more expensive too.
Time poor and money poor is where most folks are these days, and when everything is too expensive, and we’re too tired, it makes sense we aren’t having fun. Have you seen our built environment lately? Most cities are too dangerous for pedestrians and bikers, and that’s usually a good way to get out and encounter fun or new things.
Rant aside, lots of community groups are meeting this challenge and creating low or no cost ways to establish third spaces to get outside and around like minded people. Be sure to check your local environmental organizations to see what kinds of events they hold, and if they aren’t hosting events, maybe there’s a place for a volunteer to stand that up!
Many, many moons ago (but firmly in this century), Fred Meyer regularly had coupons in their circular on Banquet pot pies, three for $1, limit 6. Six pot pies, $2.
Now, each of these pot pies had, on the packaging, a coupon for a free game of bowling. Usual restrictions applied; shoe rental not included and limit two free games per person. Neither my girlfriend nor I had been bowling in years, and shoe rentals were like $1.50, so this seemed like a great way to go out on occasion while she enjoyed cheap pot pies at home (I have never been a fan of pot pies; closest you’ll get me is a quiche).
We went out, drank some beers and had a fucking cheap afternoon of entertainment. There was no way either of us had the stamina for more than two pathetic games of hurling a heavy sphere, so we called it good.
In time, this turned into a weekly thing, and it happened there was a closer alley that took the coupons as well. Well, one thing (and a birthday) led to another, and soon enough, I had my own ball and shoes, and we were looking at signing up for a league for fall. But we didn’t have a team of four.
That summer at the apartment complex was fun. I had one of those full-size Weber grills, and after grilling a couple of times in our “front yard,” we decided the courtyard made more sense. There were nine total units, and we knew most of the neighbours, at least in passing. Grilling caught their attention, and a few days in, another couple brings out a cooler and joins us, which turned into me lighting some coals every evening and people bringing out whatever they wanted to throw on.
So, we’re waiting on burgers and a tri-tip one evening when we mention the bowling thing. Turns out, they were also lapsed bowlers, so they asked if we could all still sign up. And we did have a couple of weeks, so that September, we started league. It was apparent from the standing from the outset that we were playing against (is it really “against” if you cheer for the team you’re playing?) far better bowlers than we were.
Lots of gutter balls, lots of bad jokes, lots of beer. And over the course of the season, we played each other team twice. By the second go, we knew which ones we’d had fun with and which ones thought their scores needed to be on a TPS cover sheet. And there may have been a bit of gossip between teams.
Show me where, in 2026, such a course of events can happen. This was only 20 years ago. I think league dues were $16 a week for each of us, and bowling league meant we could both bowl three games on Sunday mornings for $3.75, plus, there were cash prizes at the end of league.
In terms of dollars per hour of entertainment and expansion of weak ties, it was an excellent value.
All work and no play make jay2 a dull boy.
I dunno. lots of sports stuff seem to be doing great business. Its getting to the point where sports stuff makes me ill.
