Can taking time to ask personal questions enrich our relationships—whether with friends, neighbors, family members, romantic partners, coworkers, or strangers in passing? That’s one of the questions I pose in my book, The Big Ask. But the bigger question, the elephant-sized one I didn’t address, may be this:
Are we even having conversations today? Or have our digital distractions diminished our willingness, if not our ability, to connect with others?
I asked Rose Comadurán her thoughts on conversation in the smartphone age. Rose holds a master’s from Harvard University in human development and psychology with a concentration in child advocacy, and volunteers with the family court system as a special advocate for children in foster care. She’s also a teacher at a school in Oregon. Ten years of teaching students pre-K to 8thgrade have given her a front-row seat to observe the behavior-shaping impact of smartphones.
PQ: Rose, what does “socializing” look like for the kids you teach?
RC: When I taught at one school, the seventh and eighth graders would hang out after school on the same bench texting each other. And I remember saying to them, on more than one occasion, hey, you have your friends right here with you in person, like, look at them, talk to them, you know? And the students were, like, Ha ha ha, you’re so funny – you’re so old! And I was in my mid- or late-20s (laughs).
PQ: What’s going on with that?
RC: There is a huge shift, an enormous chasm between people who are now in their late 20s and upward, and people in their early 20s and down (basically Gen Z). The ‘digital natives’ who grew up with smartphones simply do not have the same perspective on what socializing even means.
PQ: What’s different about their perspectives?
RC: Many are so used to curating their image on social media and having control over their digital persona, that being in person and face to face with people can feel too raw. And by filtering interactions through a screen, we are [all] getting less exposure to other people’s voice intonations and body language and micro expressions on faces.
PQ: What’s the advantage of being attuned to those details?
RC: Learning how to read and interpret these cues teaches us empathy and social skills. Those of us who grew up before the explosion of smartphones and social media had more opportunities to learn these skills, simply because more of our early social interactions were happening in person, or at least speaking on the phone.
PQ: I feel grateful for having learned to socialize in the pre-digital days.
RC: We were able to build a stronger foundation for navigating those unfiltered and uncurated interactions, and develop a higher level of comfort in socializing without having electronic devices as a buffer. Even though, like everybody, I’m susceptible to screen addiction and have to set good boundaries around that, I still have the internal blueprint for socializing in person, from a time before smartphone saturation.
Naturally, the young people Rose Comadurán describes aren’t the only ones scrolling more and conversing less. “I see it a lot as a teacher,” she says, “where parents are interacting with their phones, not with their children.”
Sherry Turkle echoes that concern in her fascinating book Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age. “If we don’t look at our children and engage them in conversation,” she writes, “it is not surprising if they grow up awkward and withdrawn. And anxious about talk.”
And the issue is certainly not exclusive to North America. David Le Breton, a professor of sociology and anthropology at the University of Strasbourg decries “the massive disappearance of conversation” resulting from our digital preoccupations. “What’s the point of bothering with others,” he rhetorically asks, “since a world of entertainment is immediately accessible, where we no longer have to make the effort to nurture relationships?”
It’s a sad assessment. But if you do want to nurture your relationships, here’s a suggestion:
Make a lasagna.
Invite friends and/or people whom you’d like to know better.
Ask them to turn off all digital devices. (Really!) Make no exceptions to this rule, even if someone panics or insists they need to Google some tidbit or show you a funny video.
Huddle and eat.
Look around. Become curious about the people in the room. Find natural opportunities to ask personal questions of each person …
“What are your plans for the summer?”
“What’s it’s been like for you to work from home?”
“What were your first impressions of the city?”
Stay present. Look them in the eyes as you ask and listen. Based on the thread of their topic, ask a few follow-up questions …
“So, what attracted you to that part of the country?”
“How did you respond when he told you that?”
“That’s great! And where do you see the business heading in the next few years?”
Share something interesting about yourself, but don’t be offended if you don’t get questions in turn. As this post suggests, many people have lost, or never learned, the art of conversation. And some, though they like you, may not be the least bit curious about you (or about anyone, for that matter).
So what if the kids on the bench mock you for being “so old”? Today is yours to converse face to face with other human beings. To ask and engage them. To connect.
With or without lasagna.
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Paul Quinn is author of The Big Ask: Unlock the Possibilities in Your Work Life & Dreams with Courageous Requests.
Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash
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