Every February, Valentine’s Day amplifies what single people already know – that public life is built for two. Restaurants roll out menus for couples. Hotels promote “romantic getaway” packages designed for double occupancy. A table for one still invites the question, “Just you?” While Valentine’s Day doubles down on togetherness, more adults are living – and moving through the world – alone.
The “solo economy” is growing massively. A growing share of economic life today is organized around people who live, spend and make decisions on their own. Half of U.S. adults are unmarried, and one-person households are now the nation’s most common living arrangement. This isn’t a temporary phase confined to young adults waiting to settle down. It includes never-married professionals, divorced empty nesters, widows and widowers, and people who simply prefer and consciously and deliberately choose to live independently.
Lifelong singlehood is also rising: 25% of millennials and 33% of Gen Z are projected to never marry. It’s a slow-moving demographic shift away from long-term partnership as the dominant adult life path, but with far-reaching consequences – reshaping everything from housing and travel to social policy and commerce. One of its clearest expressions is the number of people doing things alone in public.
Solos are going to museums, traveling and, of course, dining alone in restaurants. In fact, singles are much more likely to do things alone in public than their married counterparts – 56% versus 39%. The biggest gaps aren’t for practical tasks like grocery shopping. They were for leisure experiences like going to the movies, dining out and attending concerts. In fact, the largest differences involved retail or entertainment settings – the very places most designed and marketed with couples in mind. Why has the business world neglected the singles market?
The answer lies in psychology. Some reluctance stems from the belief that other customers will perceive solo diners or moviegoers as sad or lonely. These fears are amplified by what psychologists call the spotlight effect – our tendency to vastly overestimate how much other people notice and judge us. People consistently predict others would enjoy activities less if they did them alone – even though they’d be seeing the same movie or visiting the same museum. But when people actually went alone, they enjoyed the experience just as much as those who went with others. The dread, it turns out, is largely imagined.
Another problem is that solo consumers don’t always feel welcome. While behavior is changing, markets have been slower to adapt. Most businesses still design experiences around pairs, families or groups. Consider restaurants that seat solo diners at the bar or near the kitchen or bathrooms, or ticketing systems that require purchasing in pairs. The result is friction for solo consumers. They may feel discouraged.
In 2024, IKEA Canada received backlash after a promotion specifically for couples. The company revised the promotion the following year to be more inclusive. Solo consumers represent a large, growing and profitable market segment, yet they’re navigating a marketplace that still treats them as edge cases. Analyses of more than 14,000 Tripadvisor reviews of restaurants and museums show that reviews written by solo diners and solo museumgoers are rated as more helpful – and receive more positive feedback – than reviews written by people who went with others. And many are more likely to rely on the solo reviewer when deciding what to do.
Why? It implies that people who go alone are more genuinely interested in the experience and more focused on its quality, rather than simply going along with someone else’s preferences. Being alone, it turns out, functions as a credibility cue. For businesses, that means solo customers aren’t just customers − they can be very influential customers.
Asian businesses are far ahead of the West in recognizing the buying power of people doing things alone. In South Korea, for example, “honjok,” which translates as “alone tribe,” culture has fueled products and services designed explicitly for solo living. Think single-serve meals at convenience stores, one-person karaoke booths, and restaurants that promise judgment-free service. Similarly, in Japan, the ramen chain Ichiran built its brand around the idea of “flavor concentration,” which encourages diners to eat alone in private booths. Officially, the design is meant to eliminate distractions and heighten the dining experience. In practice, it does something more important: It legitimizes solo dining.