We are the most connected generation in history — and perhaps the most untouched. During the pandemic, when we were not allowed to shake hands, let alone breathe the same air, many of us turned into germophobes. We became frightened of touching– surfaces and people– lest we catch germs, not giving ourselves a chance to build immunity and resistance in the least.
At the same time, one must admit, in a country where personal hygiene can sometimes feel aspirational (where water is scarce, odours arrive before introductions, and one frequently witnesses on the streets just how negotiable “privacy” can be when nature calls), I’ve developed a deep, unflinching commitment to the no-handshake policy. It’s not rudeness; it’s polite self-preservation.
I much prefer the la-bise, the ceremonial air-kiss-and-hug routine that well-heeled women love to use when greeting. Equal parts warmth, performance, and careful distance, the air kissing allows you to express emotion, save your lipstick but not touch, just pretend.
But in the wake of practicing all that social distancing, we have lost something essentially human. We have become touch starved. Take a look around when you’re in a public park, though, and that is not what you see. Young men and women in the park, or on the street, seem to be hanging out, immensely enjoying each other’s company but continuously holding hands, even while walking. I wonder: Are they touch-hungry, or just affectionate and expressive? You don’t see this tactile display of affection in urban men. It is observed to some extent in lower-middle class urban men, but definitely seen among rural men. Mind you, rural women too like to shake hands like men. Cringe! That’s the germophobe in me talking!
“In clinical and psychological terms, touch starvation—often known as skin hunger or tactile malnutrition is the distress resulting from a deficit in human physical contact,” elaborates Dr Chooni Lal, Professor and Head, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioural Sciences, JPMC. “While it is not currently classified as a disorder in the DSM-5-TR (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), it is a foundational concept in Attachment Theory, which is a psychological framework that explains how early emotional bonds between infants and caregivers shape a person’s trust, security, and relationship behaviours throughout life.”
He further shared that pioneers of psychiatry and psychoanalysis, such as John Bowlby and Harry Harlow, demonstrated that “contact comfort” is more essential for healthy neurodevelopment than even nutritional sustenance during the early years of life.
Humans and living beings are wired to be touched. From birth until the day we die, our need for physical contact remains.
Skin hunger, or touch deprivation, occurs when a person experiences little to no touch from other living things. Even in work life, we have grown more isolated with remote work culture. With people losing workplace handshakes, friendly hugs, or pats on the back, a decline was brought about in sensual touch.
Studies show that the condition seems to be more common in countries that are becoming increasingly touch averse.
A 2015 study measured to what degree people welcomed touch in five countries such as Finland, France, Russia, and the UK. Finland and France were found to be the most touch friendly, while the UK was the most touch averse. The study showed that the stronger the emotional bond with the toucher, the larger the area of the body allowed to be touched. While the patterns were largely similar across all five countries, British people reported being the least comfortable with touch, while people in Russia used slightly more conservative patterns of touch.
I’m not surprised; the Brits even avoid eye contact as they hide behind newspapers on the Tube and the stiff-lipped smiles they give are neither becoming, nor generous.
Another research from 2014 has found that missing out on regular human touch can have some serious and long-lasting effects. Any and all positive touch is considered beneficial for human functioning, spanning physiological health, mental wellbeing, and social bonding.
This doesn’t give you licence to invade somebody’s personal space. Being touchy-feely is okay, but only with someone who allows you into their space. And nothing quite tests your patience like someone who taps you each time they begin telling you a story, the conversational equivalent of a doorbell that keeps being rung long after you’ve opened the door.
Interestingly, touch-hungry reminds me of a delightful German Shepherd I once had. One-year-old Cheetah would roll over on her back, the minute she sensed affection, she would touch with her paw, tilt her head back and close her eyes. It finally dawned on me that she wanted to be stroked on her chest and belly, endlessly. The minute you stopped, she wanted you to resume again. Maybe, she was not touch hungry, she was touch starved.
Stroking and petting is a form of touch that can help regulate our nervous system.
Scientists have found that a system of nerve fibers, called C-tactile afferents, exists to recognise any form of gentle touch. The ideal touching speed, they say, is about three centimetres per second. This releases oxytocin, also known as the “love hormone.” Skin-to-skin contact is vital not only for mental and emotional health but physical health, too.
Touch reduces stress, allowing the immune system to work the way it should. No wonder, hugs and pats feel good in sad times.
Dr Lal explains that lack of touch is interpreted by the brain as a threat to survival. Without the regulating effect of safe contact, the amygdala– the brain’s alarm centre– remains hyper-vigilant.
“Cortisol (the primary stress hormone) spikes and there is a sharp decline in oxytocin which is the neuropeptide responsible for social bonding, trust, and the inhibition of fear,” he shares. “Brain imaging shows increased activity in the insula and anterior cingulate cortex, the same regions that process physical pain and social exclusion. So essentially, social exclusion and touch deprivation hurt—literally and neurologically.
Chronic deprivation traps the body in a state of sympathetic nervous system arousal (fight-or-flight). This “physiological loneliness” is a massive risk factor for clinical anxiety and Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), as the body never receives the somatic “all-clear” signal that triggers the parasympathetic “rest and digest” state.
“It is more than a cultural trend; it is a biological mismatch,” Dr Lal points out. “Our nervous systems are “hardwired” for the soothing, regulatory input of another human. In the absence of this, we experience a state of chronic sensory deprivation that disrupts our internal equilibrium and undermines our ability to become soothed by others in crisis or distress.”
Touch can also calm certain bodily functions, such as your heart rate and blood pressure. In early life, touch is thought to be crucial for building healthy relationships by stimulating oxytocin pathways, the natural antidepressant serotonin, and the pleasure neurotransmitter dopamine.
The hands-off culture
“When touch is restricted solely to romantic partners, we place an unsustainable emotional burden on those specific bonds,” says Dr Lal. “This creates ‘all-or-nothing’ stakes for relationships. If that single source of contact disappears, through breakup or bereavement; the individual enters a state of total sensory isolation, which accelerates the breakdown of emotional resilience and leaves them more vulnerable to trauma.”
The “hands-off” culture, though born from a necessary desire to prevent harassment and ensure safety, has inadvertently led to social atrophy. “We have lost the art of calibrated, consensual, non-sexual touch,” explains Dr Lal. “The consequence is a “flattening” of human empathy. When we avoid even a supportive hand on a shoulder during a crisis for fear of litigation or misunderstanding, we signal to the sufferer that they are ‘untouchable’ or ‘othered.’ This can inadvertently mirror the sensations of trauma or abandonment, reinforcing the individual’s sense of isolation and making social reintegration significantly harder.”
Are seniors sad?
Older adults are our most touch-starved demographic, often living in a state of sensory desertion. For a widow or divorcee, the loss of a partner isn’t just an emotional void; it is the sudden termination of a decades-long co-regulatory system.
“In psychiatric care, we see that ‘skin hunger’ in the elderly correlates with higher systemic inflammation, weakened immune responses, and faster cognitive decline,” shares Dr Lal. “Without the grounding effect of tactile stimulation, the sense of self can begin to feel untethered, leading to a state of profound existential isolation that no amount of verbal conversation can fully bridge.”
Swipe, but don’t touch
Digital communication offers presence without proximity. It provides the illusion of connection while leaving the biological body starving. “You can exchange thousands of texts and still feel lonely because the vagus nerve—the highway of our parasympathetic nervous system—is not being stimulated by the warmth, pressure, or subtle vibrations of another person,” says Dr Lal. “We are becoming ‘somatic ghosts’, connected by high-speed data, but disconnected from our basic biology. Digital connection is a wonderful supplement, but when it becomes the primary diet, the body remains in a state of chronic, low-level starvation.”
Signs to spot
How do you know if you’re touch starved? There’s no definitive way to know. But in a nutshell, you may feel overwhelmingly lonely or deprived of affection. Signs include chronic sleep disturbances (often seeking “nesting” behaviours), a “hollow” feeling in the chest, and the development of an avoidant attachment style where the person begins to fear the very thing they need.
What if you don’t particularly like being touched — can you still be touch starved?
Some people closely link touch with trust. If they don’t trust a person, they’re unlikely to want that person to touch them. But that doesn’t mean they don’t long for the benefits of a hug or handshake.
Even when someone resists or avoids physical contact, the body’s underlying need for safe, reassuring touch does not simply disappear; it often goes underground. In such cases, touch aversion can coexist with a quieter, less acknowledged longing for connection—expressed through restlessness, heightened sensitivity to rejection, or a tendency to substitute touch with other forms of comfort like overeating, overworking, scrolling, or emotional withdrawal. The paradox is that the absence of trusted touch can reinforce the very defenses that keep it controlled or at bay, creating a loop where the person protects themselves from discomfort while also missing out on the warmth that consensual, safe touch can provide. Over time, this can deepen feelings of isolation, even in otherwise socially connected lives.
How to compensate
When human touch is unavailable, we can utilise Somatic Techniques to bridge the gap and regulate the nervous system. Using a soft brush or your own hands to slowly stroke your forearms can mimic the speed and pressure that triggers oxytocin release.
Weighted blankets provide Deep Pressure Stimulation (DPS), which lowers cortisol levels and mimics the proprioceptive input of being held or hugged. The oxytocin loop between humans and dogs is scientifically documented; the act of petting an animal provides a genuine, non-judgmental tactile exchange.
“In a clinical context, massage acts as a ‘manual’ override for a stressed nervous system,” says Dr Lal, “providing the necessary sensory input without the complexities of social intimacy.”
The tipping point
According to Dr Lal, skin hunger can translate into somatic symptoms and behavioral shifts. There isn’t a specific time cutoff but generally doctors look for the following:
The prickly phase which is an unexplained irritability, hypersensitivity to noise, or feeling physically “brittle”. In sensory seeking, there is an unconscious craving for heavy fabric, excessively hot showers, or overindulging in “comfort foods” to simulate internal warmth.
It is not uncommon for a patient to burst into tears during a routine physical exam or a professional massage. Known as the “relief cry” this is the nervous system finally “downloading” months of suppressed stress when it finally encounters a safe, tactile “bridge”, reveals Dr Lal.
Way forward
Touch starvation is real but it doesn’t have to last forever.
Massages can help you relax and enjoy the benefits of another person’s touch. Greet your family with a hug. Reassure people with a touch to the arm or a pat on the back. Give your kids plenty of positive touch. This can range from gentle strokes to full-on cuddling a few times a day. Massaging your baby is important for bonding and the emotional growth of the child.
Safe platonic, assuring touch between friends, parents-children, siblings, aunts-nieces, so and so forth can be a cushioning force and a comforting coping tool.
“Families need to model “affectionate literacy,” says Dr Lal. “When children see parents hug, or see friends exchange a brief, supportive pat on the back, they learn that touch is a tool for co-regulation.”
By integrating permission-based touch: simply asking, “I’d like to give you a hug, is that okay?” we restore the agency of the individual while providing the biological nutrients that their nervous system craves. We must treat touch not as an elective behaviour, but as a vital sign of a healthy society.
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