For Small Talk
I love small talk. I have received many confused or dirty looks from my colleagues for expressing my love of small talk. It’s one of those little things that remind us we are all humans, here together on this planet for the first time, all with a thing or two in common. Sometimes, I lack the mental capacity for a deep conversation or am completing a task that I don’t wish to be distracted from. Still, I want to connect with the person in front of me, even if that is a surface-level moment. It shows that I care, that we are all in this together.
Small talk establishes positive connections with people. Perhaps it’s a generational change, but seldom do strangers shake hands or introduce themselves upon first meeting. Perhaps it’s a New Zealand thing, where we don’t want to stick out from the crowd or ever be a nuisance. Perhaps someone is socially anxious, shy, moody, or has simply had enough that day. Though we Kiwis might wish to avoid it, small talk just might be the solution to our woes. We live in a hyper-connected world, yet we can feel more isolated than ever. Still, I don’t think chivalry has to die.
Every relationship has to start somewhere, likely with small talk. If you ask the right questions and pick up on what people like to talk about, you can very quickly move to deeper conversation. Even without shared interests, other people are fascinating, and there’s something to be learnt from everyone you meet. Small talk is the meet-cute, which I think is well worth celebrating.
Against Small Talk
I hate small talk. Crazy weather, isn’t it? How’s your day been? These meaningless interactions with strangers about the weather feel like reruns of the same dull script that everyone has memorised. I can almost guarantee that the high schooler ringing up my groceries doesn’t actually care about how my day is going, not that I’d care to tell him even if he did.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a polite person. I will always say hello, good morning, thank you, and have a good day to the server simply doing their job or the bus driver who got me to my destination safely. But why do we feel the need to fill the silence between two strangers? Small talk rarely leads to anything meaningful. You touch on surface-level topics without actually getting to know the person.
The curiosity isn’t genuine; it’s reflexive. It’s a societal expectation that you glaze over the negatives and respond with “Yeah, good, thanks”, even if you’ve had the worst day of your life.
I would much rather know about your mortal enemy, what keeps you up at night or your least favourite movie. Yes, even from a stranger. Are you not curious about how the checkout lady got the scar on her cheek? I am, tell me! These are the things that make you into the person you are. What you hate, what you love, your childhood trauma, you know, the fun stuff.
Of course, I understand small talk is a social lubricant of sorts; it can help ease you into deeper conversations. But surely, this is only worthwhile when you have the intention of getting to know this person better. Otherwise, small talk feels like a chore with little reward.
