President Trump has dumped debris from the renovation of the White House East Wing onto a historic public course. New PGA Tour CEO Brian Rolapp is teeing up the most significant changes to the pro game in 60 years. The governing bodies are about to make the ball fly shorter to save golf in the face of serious disagreement. In turbulent times, it’s often wise to focus only on what you can affect, and the most important thing golfers can control is who will be in their group.
A new book, Solo Golf: The Zen of Playing Alone and How It Can Transform Your Game, offers a contrarian take. Golf is the social game, after all. “Singles have no standing” is the rule that covers holding the first tee, playing through, turning in scores for handicapping and various golfer rights. A revered figure in the sport and mentor to many of us at Golf Digest, Jerry Tarde often quotes the Irish financier Dermot Desmond: “There are three joys of golf: How you play, where you play and who you play with, and the first two are overrated.”
Same as you, I’m quick to ignore books with a troubled premise. However, the author of Solo Golf isn’t exactly a lightweight. Gary Belsky is an accomplished journalist and former editor-in-chief of ESPN The Magazine. Belsky makes an eloquent case for the meditative transcendence that arrives only in the absence of garrulous playing partners chirping about small-stakes bets, as well as for the comforting void of external judgment that self-conscious golfers often need to find their swings. His plea is for playfulness. To play fast or slow or with one club, to engage in Carl Spackler-like monologues now and again (“Former greenskeeper and now about to become the Masters champion … ”). Long before golf was conjoined with scrambles, clubhouse buffets and cocktail parties, the game was invented by Scottish shepherds who battled boredom by knocking rocks into rabbit holes in onesomes.
Still, to argue on behalf of social withdrawal seems spurious in 2026. In a world of earbuds and remote work, to say nothing of humans engaging increasingly with chatbots on everything from politics to love, do we really want to suggest more alone time? Then again, what better antidote to toxic social media than losing oneself in a task?
Belsky (who likes golf with people, too) connects the Japanese idea of “forest bathing” or purposefully spending unhurried time in the woods for spiritual nourishment. To set up his index of golf’s onomatopoeic sounds, he writes, “The bristled friction of ball-washer brush on ball, the crisp tear of Velcro as you adjust your glove—take on a richness when amplified by solitude.”
As much as I like the idea of a forest bath, I say go fishing or mountain biking or just take a hike, as true nature is better suited for this kind of getting away. Golf courses are manmade environments as well as businesses. Belsky is well aware, of course, and after his rhapsodies on reclusion turns toward the practicalities of how to find good off-peak times in golf’s “liminal spaces” and persuade starters to let you go as a single. Tautologies to lifelong players but perhaps useful to newcomers.
It’s a brave book, as much as I remain unconvinced. Golf indeed started with lonely shepherds, but its evolution into a game that binds families, friends, communities (and clients) has been all forward progress. Like a meal, any round of golf simply tastes better when shared with others. Partly for the laughs, sure, but also because pulling off shots “when it counts” in front of witnesses is the conquering feeling of freedom we all endlessly chase. Just like dancing, the challenge is to swing as if nobody’s watching.
Golf alone is still better than not playing at all. Solo Golf will encourage folks to keep at it in all circumstances. Maybe the worthiest idea is that we might all do better to contribute to collective moments of meditative transcendence. As in, it’s OK, or often preferable, to walk down a fairway together and not talk.
