Togetherness as Prevention.

The evidence is clear: disconnection harms us, togetherness heals us. Loneliness doesn’t just make us feel low, it wears on the body too. It raises the risk of heart disease, stroke, diabetes, depression, dementia, and even early death. The then U.S. Surgeon General in 2023 compared chronic loneliness to smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. The World Health Organization now lists social disconnection as the fourth biggest global risk factor for premature death, just behind air pollution, smoking, and obesity.

But the reverse is also true. When we spend time with friends, neighbours, and family, our immune systems strengthen, stress levels drop, and our health improves. Connection is medicine.

Recent research from the UK and China, studying more than 42,000 people, found clear biological links between social connection and physical wellbeing. “We need to keep people connected to keep them healthy,” says Professor Barbara Sahakian, one of the study’s authors.

Could it be that the most powerful health intervention isn’t something we invent in a lab, but something we’ve always had — each other?

From Loneliness to Togetherness.

Across the globe, governments have begun to recognise that loneliness isn’t just a personal feeling, it’s a public health issue. The UK appointed the world’s first Minister for Loneliness in 2018. Japan followed in 2021, establishing a Cabinet office and even passing legislation to address isolation, a role it still maintains today. In the United States, momentum grew under President Biden, with the Surgeon General declaring loneliness an epidemic and calling for a national strategy. Yet the language of “loneliness” still feels heavy and deficit-based. What if we reframed the question? Not how do we fight loneliness but how do we design for togetherness?

The Ministry of Togetherness 

The Ministry of Togetherness is part of The Republic of Longevity, an exhibition co-curated by Nic Palmarini, Director of NICA + Voice. It’s both fictional and real, playful and profound, a living metaphor for the work we’re already doing to turn research into relationships, and ideas into shared human experience.

Inside this imaginative ministry, every department tells a story about what truly sustains us: 

The Undersecretary of Intergenerational Affairs, Generational Collision and Chaos 

The State Department for Shared Dreams and Playful Dignity 

The General Directorate for Caring for Each Other and Playing Together 

The Bureau of Vulnerability as Connective Strength 

The Independent Agency for Strangers Becoming Friends 

The Agency Against Lonely Living 

Whimsical? Perhaps. But each title reflects a serious truth,  that belonging, empathy, and collective joy are not “soft” ideas; they’re social infrastructure. Togetherness, it turns out, is a system you can build. 

The Dividends of Togetherness.

When we invest in connection, the returns ripple through every part of life and every corner of society. 

Health dividends: Strong social ties protect us from illness and extend our lives. Around the world, doctors are prescribing connection itself, recommending walking groups, gardening clubs, and community projects as part of recovery. 

Economic dividends: Loneliness is costly. Togetherness saves money, easing pressure on health systems and strengthening community resilience. 

Cultural dividends: When we value connection, we invest in the spaces that make it possible such libraries, shared meals, volunteering, intergenerational housing, and the arts. These are not luxuries; they’re the quiet architecture of belonging. 

Equity dividends: Togetherness ensures that connection is not a privilege. It builds a society where everyone, regardless of age, income, or background, feels part of something bigger. 

Toward a Culture of Togetherness.

Language counts. A “Minister of Loneliness” highlights a crisis, while a “Ministry of Togetherness” points toward possibility. One rooted in scarcity, the other in abundance. We are living longer than ever before but that longevity will only be meaningful if it is connected. Togetherness is not simply a personal choice, it’s a public good, one worth investing in. So perhaps the real question is no longer when we’ll stop counting the cost of loneliness, but how we’ll keep building the power of togetherness,  in policy, in design, and in the small, human moments that bring us back to one another.