A Radical Plan to Improve Real Human Interaction

With real-life examples from college life and airports

We live in an age that is both more connected and more lonely than ever. I am not sure if it is fair to blame technology for all of this. I see it as more of an enabler than anything else in that it offers us a safe comfort zone that is easy for us to cocoon ourselves in. Today, loneliness hit me with such pressing hardness my heart literally hurt. I was sitting in Houston Hall (I go to UPenn), eating lunch by myself at a table of four. Around me were large groups of friends and a couple other people sitting by themselves engaging with their phones. Phones are immensely useful technology but in this instance also offered great barriers to human connection; this “look-busy-and-fill-the-pitiful-lack-of-real-human-interaction-with-simulated-interaction-online” complex modern people have means that we do not go and say hello to random people in Houston; that’s just not in our lexicon of potential actions. So there I was, surrounded by people with no way of engaging with them.

I think a lot of people are wondering about now why I didn’t just go introduce myself if I wanted interesting conversation so badly—isn’t it my own fault that I was eating lunch by myself if I wanted to meet someone new? It’s true; I don’t fully abdicate responsibility. At the same time, it seems rather awkward and not socially acceptable to just go up to someone and ask if you can join them. I think it also speaks a bit to myself and how I perceive myself.

I watched a great TEDtalk the other day by Brene Brown on the “Power of Vulnerability” in which she states that the one of the key differences between the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging and people who really struggle with it is a feeling of worthiness: the sense that they deserve to be loved, deserve to be listened to, and have something to offer the world. The human brain can be a terrible adversary: it tells us we are “not beautiful enough, smart enough, thin enough, rich enough” and this “I’m not [blank] enough” complex is one of the greatest reasons we hold ourselves back. Looking at it this way, people who are quiet are not those who have the least to offer but rather those that perceive, always wrongly, that they do not have that much to offer.

I think this is tragic because everyone has so much to offer; this warped sense of self-worth simply prevents them from putting themselves out on a limb: not everyone is willing or able to take the step to put themselves out there in that way. My purpose in writing this is both to reassure people who do not think they have anything to offer that they do and to change outside perspectives on generally less outgoing people. It is also a call to myself and those similar to me to go and introduce ourselves to the random person sitting alone at the table next to us in Houston because perhaps, just maybe, they are just as lonely as we are.

I think a lot of this also has to do with a culture at a place and the surrounding environment, which may be conducive or not conducive to facilitating real human connection. I am a strong believer that small tweaks in the surrounding environment can do a world of good in changing people’s behavior. This notion is not really original at all and it is also espoused in Heath and Heath’s “Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard” as a technique called “Shaping the Path”. Anyways:

1) Open doors. A great application of this is doors in dorm hallways. I noticed a drastic difference between my hall freshman year in Coxe and the Research and Entrepreneurship hall on the other side of the Quad. No one in my hall talked; I barely know half of them; the entire RIE hall, however knows one another and six of them chose to rent and live in the same house together the following year. I think you could have predicted these outcomes just by looking at the halls. RIE was one long, connected hallway in which the doors were light and always propped open; you physically could not walk down the hallway without stopping to have a conversation with someone. My hall on the other hand was divided in half by a stairwell and two thick doors; the doors to dorm rooms were so heavy they shut by themselves if they were not propped open and thus we all kept our doors closed all the time; I never stopped to have a conversation with anyone in my hall. These are easy and quickly fixed barriers that literally make a world of different for someone who is not confident enough to go and say hello to a complete stranger; these are things that I think literally make or break someone’s feeling of belonging or loneliness freshmen year. This experience gets even worse in the high rises that upper classmen live in; I rarely meet anyone new anymore because everyone is in their own quad with their door closed. Please invest in doorstops for every dorm room; they make a world of difference.

2) Reduce the number of small tables in cafeterias and dining halls. This approach is kind of baptism by fire. I have heard that in some restaurants/bars in Europe, it is not uncommon for restaurants to seat two groups of customers at the same table if the restaurant is too full. This would never happen in the US; we are in general just less accommodating to strangers and have an aversion to meeting new people unless it is “through a friend”. I think physically forcing random people to sit down next to each other introduces you to new people.

3) Put away the goddamn phones. I have never had a meaningful conversation over text; that just doesn’t happen. I use my phone as a way of arranging face-to-face conversations and meetings and I think this is the way technology should be: a facilitator versus a central component of social well-being. I have nothing wrong with people Skyping their long lost elementary school friend; that is great. However, when technology impedes with our ability to make real conversation; that is a tragic loss. Less reliance on cellphones would increase the potential of having this “meet a random person and have an interesting conversation you would never have had otherwise” mentality.

4) On an individual level, change the way you look at meeting new people. I think this is necessary on both sides; both from people who are struggling with their feeling of belonging (to more actively engage with those around them, realize they have something to offer, and step out on a limb some times) and also from people who are more outgoing (to reach out to those who are struggling, realize that they have something to offer, seem friendly and willing to talk).

5) One last thing: say hello. A great application of this is how to make the airport experience not suck so badly. I had a great conversation at SFO with random girl named Amanda by the electrical socket by gate 88. While waiting for my flight back to the east coast, we talked about the direction of the tech sphere, history, the book she was reading, family, school. I had such a good conversation, I didn’t want to get on the plane: we stayed and talked until the very last person got on from Group 5 before we reluctantly cut our conversation short to board the plane. That totally wouldn’t have happened if electrical sockets weren’t in such short supply and if I hadn’t just said “hello”. People hate the experience of airports (who likes the TSA) but you can also re-frame airports as unique junctions of the most diverse set of people you will ever meet in the same place. So talk to the person sitting next to you on the flight, say hello to the random stranger while waiting to board the plane. You have no idea what people have to offer; the world is filled with the most crazy and interesting people and it is tragic that we are missing out on all these great conversations with people who could literally change our lives for silly reasons like social acceptability or awkwardness.

I’m always happy to talk; please hit me up: conversation starters include HIV vaccine development, tech startups and Apple, women in tech, rationality of love, magical realism, and philosophical foundations of the meaning of life. Seriously, you’re missing out.