Scott Schieman is a professor in the department of sociology at the University of Toronto and author of the forthcoming book I Want M.O.R.E. - Why Your Job Still Matters.
I teach a large introductory-level sociology course of about 600 first-year undergraduate students held in Convocation Hall at the University of Toronto.
It’s a massive coliseum-like structure with three levels. And it can get very noisy.
Every session, a surprising number of students converse with each other throughout much of my two-hour lecture. As the volume rises, I pause. The students go silent. I continue until the chatter escalates again. I pause. They go silent. We do this ongoing dance, which at first puzzled me.
Why do the chatty students attend if they plan to ignore the content?
After one lecture, several students hung around to discuss that day’s lecture material. During our conversation, they complained about the noise level.
“What do you think is going on?” I asked. Reflecting on their fellow classmates’ behaviour, they hypothesized that the course satisfies a need other than learning.
The chatty students were there to make friends. And while that may sound simple and silly, they are using these points of contact for the important role of anchoring their day.
When they eventually (hopefully) enter the work world, most will continue to seek that social connection. But what are their chances of actually finding a connection?
In this “anti-social century,” as journalist Derek Thompson calls it, people are lonelier than ever, with fewer close friends and weaker social ties.
My research, however, reveals that while the chance to make friends at work has decreased in the past half century, workers are still hanging out with each other as they did 50 years ago. Work has quietly long been a central anchor in that story.
To establish a historical benchmark, I excavated the 1977 Quality of Employment Survey – a classic study of job qualities. It asked Americans how true this statement was of their own job: “I am given a lot of chances to make friends.” Back then, 57 per cent responded “very true.”
I wondered if anything had changed over the past 50 years. To find out, in March I fielded national surveys in the United States and Canada with the assistance of research firms YouGov and the Angus Reid Group, respectively. The samples, 4,000 workers in total, were designed to be representative of the working population.
The results shocked me: Now, only 24 per cent say they have good opportunities to make friends at work. That’s a 33-point drop.
The 1977 Quality of Employment Survey also asked another question: “How many of the people you get together with outside of work do you know from places where you have ever worked?” About one-quarter said “none,” while three-quarters reported “at least a few”.
My own 2026 surveys reveal how this element of the social infrastructure has remained more durable over the past half century. Despite the erosion of friendship opportunities at work, the majority of people still continue to find others through their jobs to hang out with socially.
Quietly, and against the odds, work has remained one of the most durable ways we meet people and become friends – often close and sometimes for a lifetime.
My surveys find, for example, 60 per cent of American and Canadian workers say they’ve established some of their closest, long-term friends at work (think the workplace bestie).
Throughout my research, I’ve been struck by how much people value the social part of work. For example, when I interviewed workers who were temporarily laid off during the pandemic, I asked what they missed most. Some facet of “the people” was a familiar response.
Katrina, a registered dental hygienist, was an exemplar. On the morning of Monday, March 17, 2020, she knew something was up when she received an unexpected text from her boss. Sure enough, upon arriving at work, she received the news: “Everybody’s basically being laid off.”
Prior to that Monday, Katrina thought her job was secure. Her bosses were supportive, raises were steady and many of her colleagues had been there for more than 10 or 15 years. “They love me, the patients love me, the office is amazing … it’s literally like a family.”
During the three months that followed, she had ample time to contemplate what she missed most. “It was the socializing and the social interactions with my co-workers. We have really good friendships – people of different generations, with and without kids. When you go in, you automatically know things about the others and they know things about you; they care for you and you care for them.”
Not everyone wants that kind of connection. Some maintain friendly relations while erecting interpersonal boundaries. “I get along with my coworkers but they’re not my friends,” said a 32-year-old chef. And a 42-year-old superintendent grumbled: “It’s a mistake to think your coworkers are your friends.”
Yet when work disappears, even the social skeptics notice the silence. “A job has always been just for paying the bills,” a 33-year-old office administrator told me, before admitting: “I have enjoyed all the places I’ve worked and maintained friendships with past coworkers.”
Those chatty students are on to something.
As newcomers to the university, away from home for the first time, my class provides a regular organized space for them to make social connections. At home, they likely were greeted by family in the morning and then friends at school. If they skipped school, someone would probably check on them. These points of contact anchored their day. Suddenly, they were on a large campus with potentially no one caring where they came or went. That freedom can be exhilarating, but it also leaves some feeling unmoored.
What they’re looking for – without knowing it – is what workers have long found on the job: a place that provides social connection regularly, over time. The chatty students in my lecture hall are doing sociology. Just not mine.
This column is part of Globe Careers’ Leadership Lab series, where executives and experts share their views and advice about the world of work. Find all Leadership Lab stories at tgam.ca/leadershiplab and guidelines for how to contribute to the column here.