Loneliness. The word brings to mind old ladies stuck at home, isolated from the world, with only a few cats and Radio 4 for company.

However, loneliness is much more widespread than that. It can affect all of us, at different points in our lives. The student is one of those people who is typically cast as being lonely – the arts student (or mathmo) who spends all day at their desk in their room, hunched over an essay that, as soon as it is finished, is quickly replaced by another. We all know – or remember having met – a handful of people in college who appear at formal occasions such as matriculation and Halfway Hall (and maybe the subject dinner, if you’re lucky) to whispers of “Who’s that? I’ve never seen them before.”

“You could be a social butterfly, pictured in every club photo and clicking ‘going’ to virtually every event on Facebook, and still feel lonely”

It would be presumptuous of me to assume that, just because I don’t see someone in college, they must feel lonely. Some people are very happy to keep to themselves; it’s how they like to live their life. However, I would hazard a guess that the vast majority of us quite enjoy spending time with other people; what’s more, the vast majority of us have also experienced some feelings of loneliness during our time at Cambridge.

There are days here – particularly during the blast of snow last week and the ongoing UCU strike – where I realise that I haven’t spoken to anyone all day apart from my bedder and perhaps a friend in the kitchen. In fact, bedders, porters and librarians all provide that valuable face-to-face contact that we crave. Self-service machines just aren’t the same. Even if it’s just a quick comment about the weather today or about the impossible task of trying to fit six books in your bag, these little conversations can be so significant – a reminder that someone cares.

And yet, we could speak to thirty shop assistants and still feel lonely. Why? Perhaps it’s not so much about the number of times we interact with other human beings, but the quality of those interactions. Loneliness today doesn’t just mean being physical isolated from others. You could be a social butterfly, pictured in every club photo and clicking ‘going’ to virtually every event on Facebook, and still feel lonely. It’s something I remember from Fresher’s Week – that feeling of having spoken to everyone, yet of not having had a meaningful conversation with anyone. Thankfully this feeling diminished as each term progressed, as friendships formed and developed; but it’s a feeling that, every so often, comes back to bite me. When I’ve spent too much time in the library, running from class to class, or dashing in and out of the kitchen with a quick “Hello, how was your day?” to the people I live with, that’s when I notice the loneliness. Or when I realise that I’ve not had a meaningful conversation with anyone for three or four days, and when I’ve been alone with my thoughts for too long.

I’m going to point the finger at social media (surprise surprise), for tricking us into believing we interact with lots of people each day. If your Hermes or Facebook accounts are anything like mine, Cambridge term causes my inbox to go berserk, with new messages pinging in several times a day. With such ease of communication, we can kid ourselves that we’ve had ‘conversations’ with twenty people by eleven in the morning, without even having gotten out of bed. And yet you know as well as I do that conversations online are never as good as those that take place face-to-face – unless, of course, it’s an email exchange with your supervisor to explain why your essay is late, again.

Cambridge schedules don’t help, either. We cram our days full of activities – careers events, rehearsals, sports practices (not to mention actual work for our degree) – without making time to sit down with a friend and really ask them how they are. These superficial, quick interactions are the conversational equivalent of a snack: they will fill you up for a time, but are no substitute for a hearty meal (otherwise known as a DMC).

Can we challenge this culture of loneliness? I think so. But it takes effort from all sides, and a willingness to invest in other people and listen to them if we want to make our friendships work. Ask the NatSci down the hallway what their project is about, or ask a historian about the most interesting lecture they’ve had recently. Take time to listen to and empathise with your coursemates, so that, when exam term rolls around, you can schedule group revision sessions in the library. Even just working next to someone you know in companionable silence can make a difference. Most importantly, schedule in time to talk to friends about the important things in your life. Go for a run together, or meet for coffee and leave the books at home. I’m a big fan of having breakfast with friends – it gives you an incentive to get out of bed and is a good way to catch up with others before the day properly kicks in. (Added bonus: it will also fill any rowing-shaped hole in your schedule.)

Everyone can feel lonely. But everyone can make a difference. Small acts of kindness and friendship can brighten up even the most difficult of days, and help banish this modern culture of loneliness to the fringes of society