Are you having a lovely weekend? Nice jumper, is it new? Did you see Doctor Who last night? You see, it’s not difficult. Yet the younger generation seems to be struggling with the ancient art of small talk. Speaking about nothing but doing it pleasantly is an essential social lubricant. Sadly it seems to be drying up.
Students in the US are taking lessons in “conducting chitchat” after losing these social skills during lockdown and no longer knowing how to start anodyne face-to-face conversations. College professors are giving tips such as “ask questions about their weekend plans, use people’s names and make eye contact”.
At Michigan State University’s business school, lessons on interpersonal communication have been made compulsory due to concerns that, post-pandemic, students are more socially awkward. Tutors say such skills are no longer intuitive so they’ve issued guidance on how to conduct oneself at networking events.
Meanwhile, in the Swedish city of Luleå – so far north its 80,000 population sees little sunlight during the winter – has launched an anti-loneliness campaign, encouraging passersby to greet one another. “It makes people comfortable and feel safe,” says the blurb. “It’s something we can all do to create a more pleasant Luleå. Your hello can make a difference.”
I’m a self-taught small-talker myself. Even though I’m from an Irish family and Ireland is the spiritual home of small talk, I used to struggle with it. That all changed a decade ago when I started a family. Because I work from home, the vast majority of nursery drop-offs, school runs and dog-walking duties fell to me. I was forced to conquer my aversion by daily gossip at the school gates and idle chat with dog owners as our pooches sniffed each other’s bottoms. Nowadays, people probably want me to shut up and go away.
Like most skills, polite conversation is best learned from parents. Scientists have found that talkative mothers produce talkative children – and it begins before birth. New research says foetuses are listening and learning from within the womb and early exposure helps newborns acquire language more easily. Mainly so they can pester you for Haribo and iPads, obviously. We Britons, of course, are famed for obsessing over the weather and, to a lesser extent, traffic. Our repertoire of small-talk topics is also regularly refreshed by seasonal additions. Currently, these include: “What’s with Nigel Farage in the jungle?” (Those shower scenes, shudder); “Are you ready for Christmas?” The only acceptable answer is “no” even if you’ve been stockpiling Quality Street since September.
I’ve been greatly amused this week by Rishi Sunak attempting “banter” in a cafe full of men in hi-vis vests. It reminded me of Alan Partridge’s patronising bid to bond with his builders. “All right guys, see the match?” “Which one?” “Don’t know.” The PM’s seeming inability to use a hammer like a functioning human was the icing on a cringey cake.
My advice? Stop staring at your phone and exchange pleasantries with shopkeepers. Thank your bus driver. Natter to your neighbours. Break the ice in queues. It gets easier and soon becomes second nature. You’ll come away from each interaction feeling buoyed. It might seem trivial but it forges human connections and benefits mental health.
Well, unless they grunt suspiciously or totally blank you. In which case, blame their parents and point them in the direction of Michigan State University.