Americans born in the 1960s and 1970s weren’t following the script. Their peers in Europe—particularly in Scandinavia—reported lower rates of loneliness, steadier mental health, sharper memories. The American cohort was moving the wrong direction entirely. Higher depression rates. Weaker muscles. Fuzzy minds. It’s a gap that’s been widening ever since, and nobody in Copenhagen or Stockholm seems to face the same decline.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The U.S. spends more on healthcare than any other wealthy nation. American education levels have risen. We invented most of the technologies these countries use. Yet somewhere between our peak working years and old age, millions of Americans were getting left behind by their international counterparts.
Frank J. Infurna, a psychologist at Arizona State University, has spent recent years digging into why. His team pulled together survey data from 17 countries, tracking the same basic measures of wellbeing and health across generations. What they found was stark: the American decline was almost entirely an American phenomenon. The researchers just published their analysis in Current Directions in Psychological Science, and their conclusion cuts through a lot of cultural hand-wringing about midlife malaise.
“The real midlife crisis in America isn’t about lifestyle choices or sports cars,” Infurna says. “It’s about juggling work, finances, family, and health amid weakening social supports. The data make this clear.”
This reframing matters. It moves the conversation from psychology—from some internal anxiety or restlessness—to structure. To the actual fabric of daily life that Americans inhabit differently from their counterparts across the Atlantic.
Start with family policy. Since 2000, European governments have steadily increased spending on family benefits. Cash transfers to households with children. Subsidized childcare. Income support during parental leave. Generous time off. The U.S. has essentially done none of this. Public spending on family benefits here has flatlined for more than two decades.
For middle-aged adults, this distinction is acute. They’re the ones typically juggling full-time work while supporting children and caring for aging parents. In countries where government steps in to ease that load—through childcare support, paid leave, reduced work hours—the loneliness doesn’t accumulate the way it does here. The data show that in European nations with stronger family policies, middle-aged adults report substantially lower loneliness and smaller year-to-year increases in it. In the United States, loneliness rose steadily across every generation born after 1960.
Healthcare compounds the problem. The U.S. healthcare system, despite massive spending, has left Americans with worse access and affordability than wealthier European countries. Out-of-pocket medical costs strain family budgets, discourage preventive care, and contribute to the chronic stress and medical debt that now characterises middle-aged American households. The cognitive toll is real: chronic stress and financial insecurity are known to undermine the very cognitive benefits that education is supposed to provide.