We should talk.

IRL. To each other. We don't talk to each other anymore.

I mean, we really should talk more. I think we all feel this one... The one where we wish we could make new friends out in the real world, without social pressures poised against us. Talk to strangers in a world that doesn't feel like you have to jump through 18 mental hoops in order to approach them and simply say hello.

Think about the last time you had a positive interaction with a stranger. Maybe you thought, "This was such a good little conversation! That's it. I should be more intentional about making this happen often." And then... it doesn't really happen. This is frustrating, particularly because when you think about it further, it kind of hits you that the majority of these serendipitous encounters end with impeccable vibes. I shouldn't really speak so much for you here, so let's talk a little bit about some data! Yay!

I saw a Reel where a man probably in his 60s was being interviewed on a walk in NYC's Central Park (by a complete stranger), and was asked a rather curious question: "If you had one message to tell the entire world, what would it be?" The man froze, eyes wide with incredulity, looked askance for a second... then exploded into laughter. He seemed to be a spry, energetic old fellow! And it turns out, he was likely the person best suited to have been asked this.

"Talk to one another." He put emphasis on the word talk. The interviewer, off camera, seemed to realize he and his audience were about to be blessed with a gold mine of advice, and asked the man to repeat it. "Talk to one another." He looked straight at his conversation partner — convinced — with even more lean into his first word this time. The man began talking about some curious research he heard about, where that could be more important for longevity than eating healthy, not smoking excessively, not over-drinking, and the like. Specifically, he referenced the alleged fact that if you have daily serendipitous interactions (often with strangers), you're likely to live longer.

Alright, I found the reel again so I can stop paraphrasing. He said "Say hi to one another." Emphasis on the hi. Whatever, I was close. Functions the same! The older man continues to say that according to a Ted Talk, the most important factor for longevity is "spontaneous interactions with many human beings through the course of the day. Saying good morning to the barista who makes your coffee – (according to the professor from the University of Utah giving the talk) — is actually more important than having a loving family, which is astonishing." I also hear that biological aging can apparently be slowed down by as much as 6 years by listening to "House Music" in the 120-130bpm range daily, [[1]] so take that as you will.

However you feel about the impact of social interactions on longevity,[[2]] humans are meant to be social creatures, and that's important. I think that to start, engaging with the people who serve us every day is fantastic to get in the groove of talking to people you don't know. You have a good excuse to talk to your barista: Ordering. If nothing else during a typical week, you've got your grocery trips, convenience store stops, and maybe a restaurant dinner where you can simply practice the habit when the friction is lowest. It's even easier for me because I live in the US South; when I go to the register, most stores' cashiers ask how I am first, and although usually the engagement stops there, it's still nice... Even if my mood or energy is not conducive at that moment to desire conversation. When I get my hair cut, I see the same barber; sometimes we talk a lot, other times we don't, and that's fine. I frequently have thoughts about this, and I just wonder if we could be taking more advantage of these opportunities to make small talk.

I know, I know. Small talk. Ugh. Maybe you dread it. Maybe you'd really rather your cashier not talk to you, because you feel as though they expect that same energy back. You may not like that pressure to reciprocate, and I get it. Some folks find that an irritating aspect of social norms. Think of it like this: Either you're the person who tries to engage the Lyft driver (with varying degrees of success), or you are that Lyft driver. If you're the Lyft driver, you get to decide the next tally for that person's success rate. One crucial thing to acknowledge before discussing further is when it comes to those ride-sharing experiences, we mostly remember rides where the driver enjoys their quiet time. They simply listen to their music and chill while getting you where you're going, or perhaps don't feel up to engaging with you. There isn't anything wrong with those folks — it's completely normal. But I am here to challenge this norm.

It's kind of the unfortunate new norm, too. Have you noticed people talk to each other less? Considering how widespread of a phenomenon it's been, especially post-pandemic,[[3]] you probably have! Loneliness rates have skyrocketed in recent years, and researchers tell us that can have a "physiological impact on social cognition — our cognitive ability to engage with the social world and process social information."[[4]] It's happening both with your established relationships (even when you live in the same city) as well as with this whole talking to strangers thing I've been ideating on; not just with Zoomers, but Americans of every age, ethnicity, gender, and income. Everything feels harder when it comes to socializing, and in public, people tend to be much more in their shells. Look; I understand that oftentimes, it's a just get the next thing done and nothing more situation, and people don't want to talk to strangers more than necessary. Pull off the road, buy a soda, back in the car, on my way. That's all it ever needed to be; I typically desire nothing more than a hello, crack the can and get back to the car, my podcast, whatever. So what the heck are we really on about, then?

Nowadays, so many of us do want to make connections with others. In order to explain what I think we can do about this, I'll make the case that our cravings are caused by what former U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy diagnosed us with: A social recession. Also, what caused this social recession? Was it just COVID? That article out of Philly I cited earlier posits explanations for potential sociological effects of the pandemic, and although published in 2024, some of the researchers quoted spoke as though we were still in an initial adjustment period — trying to dust off our social scripts after not having used them for a while. We adapted to the isolating norms of the pandemic and now we're still having trouble getting back, etc. It's definitely more than that, though. The article also quotes a research fellow for Princeton’s Social Neuroscience Lab, who explains that COVID accelerated a natural process where we become more selective with who we hang out with as we get older. Another researcher even guessed that many of us, (after dreading depravation of interpersonal contact) realized that we didn't enjoy dinner parties and social gatherings larger than a few people in the first place. I don't think that's the full picture either. For all their relatability and relevance, these articles still came more-so from the context of immediate post-pandemic adjustment (the former Surgeon General's work was published in 2023, but it offers some brilliant, actionable advice!). And the thing is, after all that, we are still feeling disconnected in 2025.

Covid was just a catalyst to forces already in play, and that logic explains how today — over 2 years since abandoning social isolation — the norms don't feel even close to re-learned yet.

Any moment we're feeling even a little uncomfortable, within seconds we can be scrolling TikTok or Instagram reels... After all, it's not necessary to confront anything. It works when you're alone. It works when you're in public. We found out you can just bury all of that online, never flex your real connection muscles, never confront the initial awkwardness of sociability, and just shove it under the rug. And that's exactly what most of us did, every time. We did it before COVID. We did it with massively increased force of habit during it. And now? It's still habit. Problem is, most of us never got back in the sociability gym, and with remote work exploding, we didn't have to. The muscles in this analogy have completely atrophied. In fact, let's continue the analogy further: Writing this, I flashed back to a couple months ago when I started working out again after about a 6-month hiatus. According to my trainer, it was initially a shock to my body; we made sure not to push too hard for the next few sessions to build up to moving more weight without feeling like I had nothing left in the tank (also, I just needed more carbs) to even drive home afterwards. It's the same with socializing. When you finally do take a stab at it, it has a high chance of feeling unnatural. Even if whatever you said came out totally normal, it almost guaranteed felt really awkward. And now, the reasons why make so much sense. It's crystal clear to me that those 18 mental hoops from the start of this post were installed by a couple key players: The tendency to be chronically online, the relative ease of scrolling compared to engaging in real social situations, and subsequently the failure to realize the importance of fighting back against what kind of attention these platforms are demanding of us.

If you've hit the sociability gym already (or never left) and feel next to no social tension, cool. You have a fluid understanding of how to navigate social situations in a modern world where the rules seem to be constantly shifting. For anyone close with you struggling, you'd be a great resource for them to get this kind of dealing with modern social trends advice from, especially if you're a Zoomer. I mean, really think about it for a sec. If you've figured it out as a Zoomer? The wisdom you offer is more valuable than that from a member of an older generation, because you grew up with different social norms. Although some classic, conventional advice applies to the modern world and our elders can still give us decent council, there are unique challenges we're dealing with that previous generations didn't, and your wisdom is based on your experience as a Gen-Z young adult — not your experience from when you were a Gen-X young adult or otherwise.

I digress - let's get back in the sociability gym. Here's something we might call the "rusty tap theory." Imagine a tap that hasn't been used in quite a while, so when it's turned on, dirty brown water comes out. The good news is that doesn't mean good quality water isn't in the tank! Now imagine a creative task that you haven't done in a while. Some advice on writing I came across encouraged me to just try writing whatever for a bit (without worrying if it comes out bad), and to remember that I need to get through instances of less than desirable output before I see the clear water. That person was inspired by an Ed Sheeran interview talking about song writing, but it made me think about clearing out our rusty pipes for talking to people in public. It'll become less awkward and scary after putting in some work in the gym, cleaning the pipes — whatever analogy you prefer.

One thing I started earlier this year was to try becoming a regular at a few coffee places around town. In lines, to avoid awkwardness of being in public, people are glued to their phones unless they came with someone. Many others (usually I fall into this camp) simply look around the place at all the books, stare at the menu for a while, or watch the baristas making coffee. This is going to sound a bit alarmist, but it just feels like it's all in an effort to avoid talking to one another. Last Friday, while working on setting up this website, I sat at a large table next to an old man who was saving a couple seats, and when the middle aged men he was waiting for came to join him, I realized I recognized one of them. Kevin. He was a regular I'd met earlier that year, but had to ask his name again because I always thought he looked like a Scott. People his age (probably 40s) and older, I've noticed, are more likely to strike up a conversation with a stranger in a coffee place than people my age (mid 20s). I think there's some power to this rusty tap thing though, because after working out my social muscles over the past year at these third places, forgetting Kevin's name didn't feel so awkward or embarrassing. It was a marker of progress for me, and I'll definitely take it — it seems small but feels big.

I was going to wrap up this post, but in the last week, a couple of indispensable experiences begged to be turned into a couple of final anecdotes.

Sitting outside another coffee shop on a sunny Saturday, I noticed a couple about my parents' age with some unfamiliar-looking breakfast, one of them remarking it looked like a fried fish. What I decided to do next would turn into full-fledged conversation about everything I've been writing about here, which was so engaging it lasted a half hour, ending in sincere hand shaking afterwards! We were close enough that I could simply ask what they ordered without getting up from my couch, and the woman said it was a scone. They were immediately comfortable answering to a friendly stranger, and it didn't stop there — we talked about what items we've tried from the menu before, whether I was a student (since I was sitting on the couch with my laptop open, working on this post), and what I was doing here now. They talked about their son, about my age; apparently he's a total stud, yet totally inept with meeting women. These people were coming of age in the 70s / 80s, and talked about having quite the different set of circumstances and habits surrounding young peoples' social lives. A few days later, there was a pretty redhead girl my age sitting at a table inside, and I figured I'd practice trying to be a foil to the older couple's son. However this was about to go, I wanted to know that I could either:

1: Stomach potentially embarrassing myself. 2: Be reminded it's not actually as embarrassing at it feels like it will be beforehand, and many times not at all.

Maybe this is just me in own head, but it seems a little forced for an interaction to start with me walking up and asking if I can...interact. "Can I talk to you?" Man, I just don't know about that one. I think it's more comfortable when there's a way for things to feel even slightly more organic. A more natural start like with the couple from earlier, and if you need to be more direct with your intentions afterwards, fine. The plan was simple. I walked past the table to ask the woman if she could watch my stuff for a moment while I stepped outside. That way when I came back a couple minutes later, I could say thanks and ask what she was working on. Now that's a plan right there. Brilliant, I say! A little silly, maybe, but it helped me to accept the situation I faced. If I didn't, I knew I might leave without attempting to ignite conversation. And since I was still writing this post? I definitely couldn't leave without trying.

Her name was Mia, and we hit it off immediately. I would find out later that she had a boyfriend, but I wasn't exactly going into this trying to get Mia's number. The most important thing? Flexing that next social muscle: Graduating from talking first to strangers that you aren't attracted to, to people you are. Of course, meeting potential parters and modern dating on its own constitute (a few) fully separate posts. And here's thing: She could tell I genuinely just wanted to talk to a stranger, and sincerely was curious about what she was working on. Everyone was gone for Christmas break, and finals for the semester were already over, so why would a young person have a laptop out? We talked about her applications to grad schools, and I talked about what I was working on. I wanted to be completely honest, so I told Mia my thoughts on this meeting strangers in real life thing, and that I was working up the courage to do it with her. I got to ask her opinion on the state of young people meeting each other, the trends of hanging out with friends less, and the need to have people around us. We connected on many things: The fact that we're not exactly extroverts, but we're human and really need people around us sometimes; the fact that we don't like going to bars that are so loud that you can't hear each other at all, and we'd rather visit a chill brewery or coffee shop... as if we we're already in our 30s. We spoke for 30 minutes, and...

1: That's awesome. 2: My brain can draw on the experience in the future as powerful evidence. Evidence that great possibilities open up when one is willing to take a small leap.

People old and young agree that Gen Z should help lead this charge towards the future as somewhat of a return to the past; to meeting people in person. A return to talking more often, hanging out more frequently; more spontaneously. Saying hi. And I believe that we will. Millennials and Zoomers in particular make up an importantly gigantic portion of our society. It's a portion that's growing tired of the current situation and frustrated by the difficulty of being real participants in our real world. Also, how does work culture influence our tendency to hang out less? Are third places declining or just too expensive? Are there other explanations specific to changes in modern society as to why we cancel plans? I wanted to narrow the scope a little bit, but yes, of course... those are areas I'll potentially share thoughts on in the future. But based on everything I've learned about myself and the world around me this year, I know one thing for sure: While "putting myself out there" has taken some time, some practice, and confronting some fears (fears that may not completely vanish), discovering ways to move past them is solidifying my belief that making real connections on a regular basis is possible again. I also now know that the effect of embracing initial discomfort in striking up a conversation yields many more positive feelings than negative ones. Bad news: We need to get through step 1 to get to step 2, and for reasons discussed earlier, our generation finds step 1 pretty difficult. Good news: After hitting the "gym" for a bit, step 1 becomes more comfortable, and the doors fling wide open. We may even live longer.

And that's it, this post is over! Say hi to a stranger this week.

[[1]]: (Music in general — but especially house music — was found to promote neuroplasticity, and help slow down age-related cognitive decline)

[[2]]: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4725506/ I haven't read this whole article, but from what I did, social isolation is definitely not good for you. We just don't often think of the physiological impacts.

[[3]]: There were "significant shifts in how participants connected to social support, including changes from physical to virtual modalities, and using different social networks for distinct purposes (i.e., Reddit/Facebook for information, WhatsApp for community connection). While having COVID-19, profound loneliness during isolation was described; yet, to mitigate effects, virtual support (i.e., emotional, knowledge-seeking) as well as in-person material support (e.g., groceries, snow-shoveling), were key." (2022 study).

[[4]]: Post COVID, "while we’ve returned to a time where we can enjoy the company of others as much as we please, we’ve lost our finer touch in complex social interactions" (A great 2024 article from a writer in Philly)