Small Talk is Good

I once had an interesting boss (haven’t we all?). Let’s call him Aaron LaFoote. Mr. LaFoote made the most interesting announcement that he had given up small talk. Small talk, to Aaron, was nothing more than empty language, and therefore, it was useless. He smiled as he recalled the time when someone asked him how he was doing; Mr.  LaFoote replied, “fine,” and after a beat, the other person said “I’m fine too.” My boss thought that was a sign that the other person hadn’t noticed that Mr.  LaFoote did not inquire about her, but I struggled to bite my tongue.

“She was reminding you how social conventions work!” I wanted to yell. But I didn’t.

For the rest of my time with Aaron, things were never comfortable. We worked many miles from each other, and it was downright weird to drive three hours to meet with my boss, enter his office, sit down and begin to speak about the business at hand. I realized I needed those five minutes of chatting about the trip, and the traffic, and how his week’s been going, in order to shift my focus from trip to agenda. And this may not be very professional, but I always felt a little sad that he didn’t care enough about me to ask.

For those of you who believe that small talk isn’t necessary, try to spend a day communicating only essential information. No pleasantries, no ‘good morning,’ no ‘how was your day?’ no chatting with colleagues before the meeting starts, no commenting on the sudden downpour during rush hour, no asking someone how their dreaded appointment went. Do not wish anyone a nice day, do not thank thank the guy who gets your coffee order just right every morning, do not respond when the waiter asks you how you’re doing. I’m willing to bet that by the end of the day – certainly by the end of two – you’ll feel less connected, less happy, and a little off your game. I’m even more willing to bet that people who more or less like you will want to know if you’re OK, and people who are more or less on the fence about you are going to wonder what the hell’s your problem.

If you fall somewhere in the range of normal human, why would you want to unnecessarily worry your friends, or give people who don’t like you more reason not to?

Small talk in the workplace – in your life – is good. Used properly, (hint: not as viscious gossip, nervous chatter, intrusive questions, runaway mouth, or long, detailed, pointless stories of how you lost your car at the mall the other night), it smooths over rough spots, it provides non-threatening transitions from one situation to another, it gives you many little opportunities to connect with others. It’s the oil that lubricates our interactions: and for everyone out there who’s come in contact with someone who rubs them the wrong way, surely a little oil helps now and then.

I no longer work for Aaron LaFoote, which is kind of normal. There’s quite a bit of turn-over in his office, particularly among people who work closely with him. He has a reputation for coldness and for being a jerk. He also has a hard time getting projects completed, and many on his team are content to let the gears spin, having given up long ago. Kind of makes you wonder what it would be like if he asked people how they’re doing every now and then.