How many people can a human being genuinely connect with at a time? And of those, how many can we truly trust, share our thoughts with, and simply be with?
According to research in sociology and evolutionary psychology, particularly the work of British anthropologist Robin Dunbar, the average person can maintain meaningful relationships with about 150 people at a time. This figure is famously known as Dunbar’s Number. These are not just faces we recognize, but individuals with whom we share some level of trust and mutual understanding.
At the very centre are about five people, those in our innermost circle, who hold deep emotional significance in our lives. Expanding slightly, there are about fifteen more individuals, close friends and immediate family, with whom we share regular, meaningful interactions. Moving further outward, we have around fifty people who qualify as good friends, those we enjoy spending time with, but may not confide in as deeply.
And then, extending to the full 150, are acquaintances and distant connections, people we may know by name or face, but rarely engage with beyond surface-level interactions. This layered social network used to function beautifully. We shared our emotions, celebrated our wins, cried over losses, and made memories.
That was before technology fully infiltrated our lives. Yes, industrialization brought distraction. But the real disintegration of meaningful human relationships happened with the rise of the digital age, when social media became the lens for social living.Let’s revisit the layers now, in the context of today’s world. The top five people, once our emotional sanctuary, are now often the source of conflict, misunderstanding, even envy. The next fifteen, those once considered close friends, now often fall into the category of “not-so-open,” “casual,” or worse, fake. And the remaining 130? We hardly know them. We don’t meet them. We don’t try. We barely even care. In fact, we actively avoid our own neighbours, considering their presence a potential “headache.” So, what’s happening here?
Why is it that we’re unable to sustain meaningful relationships? Why are we so easily irritated by people, reluctant to engage, disinterested in connection?
Because we are overstimulated and desensitized, blocked by a technological grip that’s getting tighter by the day.
Today, a three-year-old can handle a mobile phone better than a 50-year-old. While that may sound like a proud tech milestone, it’s actually an alarm bell. Kids are not building relationships with people; they’re building habits with gadgets. Their emotional and psychological foundations are laid by screens. The result? Shorter attention spans, emotional instability, overstimulation, and social disconnection. Children today are used to instant gratification, whether it’s a YouTube video that starts in seconds, a game that rewards them constantly, or a swipe that changes what they see. This affects patience, empathy, and even their ability to sit still or process real emotions. Adults aren’t spared either. Most of us can’t sit with discomfort for even a few minutes without reaching for our phones. We’re becoming emotionally fragmented, finding it harder to hold space for real conversations or difficult emotions.
Take WhatsApp, for instance, currently one of the most aggressively used marketing platforms. It’s designed to feel personal, covering across all age groups. It’s not like Facebook or Instagram where the attention span is fleeting. On WhatsApp, a simple message like “Dear Mansi, here’s a skincare tip just for you…” hits differently. You stop. You read. You feel “seen.”
It’s a calculated gimmick. But it works.
Why? Because we crave personalization in a world that’s growing impersonal.
Even gender roles are exploited. A female customer often gets a male representative and vice versa, it’s not random; it’s strategy. Relationships, too, are approached like a marketing funnel, multiple “hi’s” sent to multiple people until one respond. Just enough to catch the hook. Here’s what’s worse: there’s no consistency.
Let me share a story. A few days ago, a girl from a well-known bank called me for a marketing pitch. As someone who was active in business, I get dozens of such calls, and usually, I ignore them. But she was persistent. After several rings, I finally answered. She enthusiastically explained their services, and though I was driving and only half-listening, she followed up multiple times. Eventually, I started showing interest. I’m someone who takes time to process things. I don’t get sold in a minute. But when something makes sense, I consider it. I was even planning an investment and genuinely thought of trying it. And then, radio silence. No calls, no replies to messages. Just like that, the energy vanished. It felt like I was now supposed to chase her, as if the desperate need to pitch to me was only momentary. The inconsistency was hilarious and frustrating.
Ever had that happen? If yes, share your experience in the comments.
What this shows is how disconnected we’ve become, not just personally, but professionally. The people doing these jobs are emotionally scattered, mentally exhausted, and lacking depth. They jump from one thing to another, mirroring the same instability in their work. This shift in human nature is visible everywhere, from relationships to sales targets to even career choices.
Look at LinkedIn. So many job openings. Yet, Gen Z doesn’t panic. They apply, reject, ghost, and move on. Until they find something that feels “right,” they freelance, hustle, or sell online. Making money isn’t hard anymore.
But building integrity? That’s rare. The same goes for relationships. Instead of investing in one meaningful connection, people try to “match” with ten, hoping one will work out. But real relationships, like real success, require focus, consistency, and patience. Technology gave us tools, but somewhere along the way, we let it rewire our nature. Now, we don’t build relationships. We simulate them. We don’t grow with people; we scroll past them. So maybe it’s time to pause. To reconnect, with fewer people, but more deeply. Because even in this digital storm, somewhere deep within us, that ancient human need remains, to be seen, heard, and felt by another human. Let’s not forget how to be one.