Dr. Zach Mercurio

Because it isn't the quantity of connections that predicts loneliness. It's the quality. There's a great phrase in psychology called companionate love. And it's not passionate love, but it's the feelings of companionate love of having someone pay attention to us, affirm us, show us our uniqueness, show us our significance.

And ironically, researchers find in the workplace, for example, that is the key, the quality of the interactions. is the key to reducing loneliness, not the quantity. So I think you're right on.

And ironically, researchers find in the workplace, for example, that is the key, the quality of the interactions. is the key to reducing loneliness, not the quantity. So I think you're right on.

And ironically, researchers find in the workplace, for example, that is the key, the quality of the interactions. is the key to reducing loneliness, not the quantity. So I think you're right on.

The first memory I have from when my first son was born is I remember him reaching out his hand and grasping onto my index finger really tightly with his tiny little hand. And that was so powerful to me because he immediately calmed down. But I started studying what it means to matter, what it means to experience significance.

The first memory I have from when my first son was born is I remember him reaching out his hand and grasping onto my index finger really tightly with his tiny little hand. And that was so powerful to me because he immediately calmed down. But I started studying what it means to matter, what it means to experience significance.

The first memory I have from when my first son was born is I remember him reaching out his hand and grasping onto my index finger really tightly with his tiny little hand. And that was so powerful to me because he immediately calmed down. But I started studying what it means to matter, what it means to experience significance.

And I realized that I was experiencing 6 million years of fine-tuned programming in that grip. Scientists call that grip the grasp reflex. It's one of several reflexes we're born with. Immediately after we open our eyes, we reach out our arms to matter to someone enough to keep us alive.

And I realized that I was experiencing 6 million years of fine-tuned programming in that grip. Scientists call that grip the grasp reflex. It's one of several reflexes we're born with. Immediately after we open our eyes, we reach out our arms to matter to someone enough to keep us alive.

And I realized that I was experiencing 6 million years of fine-tuned programming in that grip. Scientists call that grip the grasp reflex. It's one of several reflexes we're born with. Immediately after we open our eyes, we reach out our arms to matter to someone enough to keep us alive.

a really interesting thought experiment for everybody listening right now is to think none of us would be here right now if at some point in our lives we hadn't mattered enough to another person so they would keep us alive.

a really interesting thought experiment for everybody listening right now is to think none of us would be here right now if at some point in our lives we hadn't mattered enough to another person so they would keep us alive.

a really interesting thought experiment for everybody listening right now is to think none of us would be here right now if at some point in our lives we hadn't mattered enough to another person so they would keep us alive.

And in thinking about mattering as a survival instinct helps us to understand how as we grow up, that instinct turns into the fundamental need to feel seen, heard, valued, and needed. And it gets out of this idea that mattering is a preference. It's not a preference to matter. It's a survival instinct to matter. And it's a fundamental need for almost everything else that we say we want.

And in thinking about mattering as a survival instinct helps us to understand how as we grow up, that instinct turns into the fundamental need to feel seen, heard, valued, and needed. And it gets out of this idea that mattering is a preference. It's not a preference to matter. It's a survival instinct to matter. And it's a fundamental need for almost everything else that we say we want.

And in thinking about mattering as a survival instinct helps us to understand how as we grow up, that instinct turns into the fundamental need to feel seen, heard, valued, and needed. And it gets out of this idea that mattering is a preference. It's not a preference to matter. It's a survival instinct to matter. And it's a fundamental need for almost everything else that we say we want.

Now, the way this has looked for me is that my first research study was with a group of janitors, with cleaners at a university. And we embedded ourselves with them for a year and a half, a very difficult job, often overlooked. And we were trying to study what contributed to meaningful work, which is the experience that your work is significant.

Now, the way this has looked for me is that my first research study was with a group of janitors, with cleaners at a university. And we embedded ourselves with them for a year and a half, a very difficult job, often overlooked. And we were trying to study what contributed to meaningful work, which is the experience that your work is significant.

Now, the way this has looked for me is that my first research study was with a group of janitors, with cleaners at a university. And we embedded ourselves with them for a year and a half, a very difficult job, often overlooked. And we were trying to study what contributed to meaningful work, which is the experience that your work is significant.

And I quickly realized that these people only experienced their work as significant when they felt significant. And it was in very small moments. I remember one janitor told me that the most meaningful part of her job in a 20-year career was when a student walked into the building, looked her in the eye, said, hey, Susan, and said, hey, it's great to see you today.