“I have noticed a rise in people cancelling plans,” said Tim, 44, a solicitor from Canberra, Australia. “It can be annoying, but I also understand the feeling of something seeming like a good idea when it is in the future, then not feeling like going [on the day]. I have adjusted my mindset so I almost expect 50% of [everyday] social plans not to happen.”
Tim was among people from the UK, the US, Australia and elsewhere who shared with the Guardian how they experienced “flaking” – the cancelling of plans at often short notice owing to not being in the mood, feeling demotivated or tired, or wanting to do something else instead – a phenomenon that many felt had become more prevalent.
“I think the main driver of flaking is that everyone is burnt out,” Tim said. “I feel like I am under constant communication bombardment. Most social events are planned for the evening or weekend, which is the precise time you just want a break from people. I definitely have stronger feelings of not wanting to do things when the time comes.”
Like countless threads about flaking on platforms such as Reddit, people shared how friends and family members had, often at the last minute, dropped out of smaller everyday occasions such as lunch dates and long-planned gatherings – trips and concerts, but also birthdays, weddings and funerals.
Many dozens of respondents on the receiving end of flaking ascribed the phenomenon to growing levels of social fragmentation because of social media and smartphones, a general sense of apathy in the population and an increasing normalisation of inconsiderate behaviour in the interest of personal needs and desires.
Being able to just send a quick text to cancel, various people said, meant people did not have to face those they stood up and incentivised late cancellations.
Although some conceded that widespread precarity and poor health were factors, many accused friends of treating their friendships as if they are transactions they felt entitled to withdraw from or invest in as it suited them, and of using stress or their mental health as an excuse to escape personal accountability.
Various professional event organisers and business owners who responded to the callout also reported a rise in no-shows post-Covid – for commitments such as dentist and hairdresser’s appointments, ticketed events, job interviews or business meetings.
One volunteer organiser for a non-profit from Canada said the number of no-shows to his events had increased several-fold. “At one point,” he said, “I scheduled a lecture with 45 registrants, only to have three arrive.”
“[What drives flaking?] I think a culture that encourages people to be increasingly inward looking, always thinking about themselves, how they feel, what they want,” said Fiona, 40, from Dublin. “People don’t seem to think about how flaking might disappoint or hurt the feelings of their friends. Their thinking seems to only go as far as ‘ugh, I’m not in the mood’.”
Like others, Fiona harboured concerns that “the acceptance of flakiness might contribute to the growth of loneliness in society”.
“Increasingly with gen Z and millennials there is a fetishisation of introversion,” said Andrew, 23, from Brisbane who works in telecoms sales. “Web comics and memes make a moral comparison to extroverts, who are supposedly loud, obnoxious people. Introverts are [depicted as] moral people who own cats and crochet. But our generation is also experiencing record high loneliness, so I think we shouldn’t praise choosing loneliness or celebrate [extreme levels of] introversion.”
On the other end of the spectrum were dozens of respondents who reported that they were increasingly cancelling plans themselves, with many of them saying this was the result of permanent exhaustion, work stress, poor mental health or a lack of funds.
Many from this camp said they felt no need any longer to apologise for prioritising their personal needs over those of others. “I would argue that these are all reasons why flakiness is not actually people cancelling for no reason, but a legitimate response to how society is now structured and the lifestyles we lead,” said Bethan, from Yorkshire.
A woman from Canada called Tabitha described the concept of flakiness as “ableist”. “People aren’t ‘flaky’ for prioritising their mental and physical health instead of ‘roughing it out’ to attend inconsequential things,” she said.
“I have noticed a rise in ‘flaking’ but it’s been welcome, and I’ve certainly been a perpetrator,” said a 43-year-old artist from Melbourne. “There’s been a sense of absolute understanding and relief.”
Few people, she said, wanted to go out these days. “Fewer people drink, the cost of living is high and everyone has a mountain of responsibilities, not to mention burnout and anxiety. Unless it’s a significant birthday or wedding, I’m not quite sure why one would agree to gather in the first place. These days I’ll take any excuse to cancel last-minute and it feels like self-care.”
A 35-year-old architect and small business owner from Perth said: “When I get flaked on, I feel relieved that I have an excuse to not have to leave the house. I have always wanted to be a flaky person, but society didn’t let me. Now that [many others] have given up, I feel like I let myself go, too.
“I love my friends and I do want to catch up with them – but I wish I could do so from the comfort of my own bed.” She did “feel bad”, she said, “for all the social butterflies that are getting their going out dreams crushed.”
A number of people referenced the feeling that attending social gatherings no longer yielded the “rewards” it used to in the past, with costs having increased and other participants being tired or disinterested.
Libby, 70, a retired healthcare professional from Western Australia, worried about flaky behaviour threatening people’s reputations, friendships and social cohesion, and raised concerns about “very short-term thinking” becoming the norm.
A family member, she said, had been a no-show for a close family wedding. “They gave zero notice. When I confronted her, she was totally unapologetic. Her mother pretty much told me she’d been invited to a weekend away with friends, a more attractive offer, apparently. I have lost all respect for them.”
Many of those who complained about flaky friends and family said it had substantially affected their self-esteem and trust in people, with various people saying they had stopped organising gatherings entirely because of the “logistical nightmare” of increasing numbers of people dropping out or wanting to amend plans multiple times to suit their needs better.
“I’m not sure if flakers see that their flaking eats away at the basic fabric of the friendship. At the end of the day, all relationships are built on trust, and to flake, constantly at least, is to break that trust,” said Tristan, 38, from Surrey who works in film production.
“People just feel like they don’t owe anybody anything any more, but they also just don’t want the scrutiny of others,” said a graduate in her late 20s from Devon.
“Everyone can upload things to their [social media] profiles that’ll make them look like they’re on top of the world, but these curated images aren’t real and wouldn’t hold up in conversation at a party. It’s all really unhealthy.”
Many mourned the loss of longstanding friends who, various people felt, had harmed themselves and others by retreating from their social obligations.
“I think many people who feel generally good about having become more flaky don’t realise that they are slowly manoeuvring themselves off the pitch,” said Lara, 37, a business consultant from London.
Her old university friendship group, she said, had originally been very diverse, a mix of high achievers and dreamers, extroverts and introverts. Over the past few years however, the group had gradually shrunk as some people had “excluded themselves” by routinely withdrawing from social events.
“Those of us who still meet up regularly – we started off as drinking buddies in halls, but today we flag professional or even romantic opportunities to each other, recommend investment strategies, doctors, childminders, schools, contractors, affordable holiday rentals ... It’s mostly a support group that helps us all navigate life better, and many of us have been thriving to a significant degree because we stayed in it.”
Several respondents described their increasing inability to keep an appointment as “self-sabotage”, among them Kevin, a 39-year-old researcher from Vancouver, Canada, who felt defensive but also ambivalent about his behaviour.
Flaking allowed him, he said, to avoid situations that required him to address personal issues and conflict. “It has taken me ages to begin to accept this about myself, but I hate making plans and regret it almost every time,” he said.
Kevin blamed people’s growing tendency to cancel on ever-increasing amounts of “labour” – both “actual hours worked” as well as historically high levels of “shadow work” for consumers, such as assembling furniture, pumping gas or self-checkouts.
“Then factor in all the garbage we have to do on our phones now – how many hours a month do we spend creating online accounts and downloading apps and managing bugs and making complaints, just to park the car or order groceries?”
Worsening public services, he felt, also forced people to do more childcare, eldercare and self-care. “So that person is supposed to show up for a park walk with an acquaintance on a rainy Tuesday evening because they said they would? Nah.”
“It’s really terrible,” said Ellie, an interpreter from London in her 30s. “I loved my old friends, but they used to stand me up all the time. After years of progressively worsening levels of flakiness since the pandemic, to the point where nobody invited me ever and nobody turned up when I organised something, I realised I needed different, more resilient friends – people with the capacity to give. It’s scary to think about where all this will end.”
