Microkindness: A Small Way to Reconnect a Disconnected World
Smile because it is worth it
Photo of a person smiling in a crowd by Boam Production at Unsplash.
I am just getting back from lunch with a beloved colleague of many years. It had been a long time since our last social meeting. Even though we live less than 10 miles away from one another, there was a thought we each seemed to have that sounded like: “Of course we would like to meet in person for lunch or tea… eventually!” The days passed. The weeks became months. On the surface, this feels normal and innocent. In fact, it is a commonly accepted social pattern of our times right now: we are digitally connected, yes, sending email or text communications back and forth, but we are not often in the same room with each other.
Social bonds of any kind require time and attention, but the current trend in the USA is that people are spending less time in person.
Drawing from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics’ American Time Use Survey, Axios highlighted a steady 20-year decline in direct human interaction: Recent findings about human behavior in the USA compiled by Axios and reported by the Understandably newsletter author, Bill Murphy, Jr., recently show that in the United States we've quietly shed 60 hours of annual in-person human connection over two decades. Average daily time spent socializing in person dropped from 45 minutes a day to roughly 35 minutes per day. Doing the math: 10 minutes less time spent socializing a day adds up to over 60 hours of lost human connection per year.
The same report shows that young adults ages 15- to 24 are the hardest hit by this trend: for them, the daily face-to-face hangout time went down from 60 minutes down to 35 minutes.
This common social pattern seems to be an unintended side effect of a world designed for efficiency and convenience: we can use our phones and computers to make online purchases, work remotely and stream entertainment while never leaving home. We can text with an AI agent to get customer service and tech support. We can order food and pick it up without interacting with a single person. Hanging out, kicking back, chilling, catching up, getting together are the terms we have used for being together with people and not having a strict plan. Apparently, we are doing less of this right now.
Where can we get together and just talk? Community spaces seem to be quietly fading: the Starbucks in my neighborhood had seating removed as part of its recent renovations. Customers now order online and then rush in to pick up their coffee in a matter of seconds. Now there is no waiting in line and no sitting around anymore either.
But still: There is a need to reconnect.
Socializing and coming together are part of our nature. We are wired for connection, and connection can be simple.
Harvard’s Research on “Microkindnesses”
The “microkindness” signals inclusion: a smile in certain settings can make you feel welcome. The opposite of the microkindness is the microaggression that signals exclusion and hostility: an example of microaggressions is not looking up from your phone when a person walks into the room—it can be signal that you are busy and not wanting to be bothered. The microkindness acknowledges another person where the microaggression dismisses another person.
The term microkindness has appeared in the press as a result of research published by Tim Lomas and Tyler VanderWeele at the Human Flourishing Program at Harvard University, this research frames small, low-cost acts of goodwill and social acknowledgment, as a vital form of spreading goodwill and compassion that feeds the natural human need for respect and connection. They define microkindnesses as brief, low-cost gestures motivated by genuine warmth—a warm smile, a friendly nod, a quick greeting, holding a door, or saying a sincere thank you. The opportunities to express and show microkindness are endless: your tone of voice can communicate patience as you talk with a family member, bank teller, health care worker or a tech support agent. Momentary eye contact with a neighbor or waving the car at the intersection to move the traffic along create a spontaneous cooperation in the moment. The relationship among people becomes the thing that motivates you to make contact however brief.
My microkindness story happened the other day, coming back from a community event on a shuttle that would take loads of people back to their cars parked in a nearby parking lot. It was nighttime. The shuttles were full of parents and kids, teenagers and adults. My friends and I boarded one of the last shuttles of the night, and I was the last one on board. Walking all the way down the aisle, I realized there were no more seats. Just as I was about to say I would take the next shuttle, a mother and her young son of 8 or 9 years of age waved me over. He awkwardly moved to sit in her lap, appearing unhappy about the situation, but doing it for his mother. I smiled. The child and I had eye contact and a 30-second short conversation about the dessert we each had that night from the food truck vendors. “You had the ice cream taco! I wanted to try that. How was it?” It broke the ice. His face softened and so did mine. The ride down the hill to the parking lot was just a few minutes, but the little human interaction was memorable. These tiny gestures known as microkindnesses signal a message: “You belong here, and you are safe.” Little gestures like this one carry such a message: this is the world we share, and it is okay. A series of 5-second moments throughout the day builds a sense of community trust that people can pass along.
Small acts create a ripple effect. A simple, authentic smile lowers social friction, puts the recipient at ease, and makes them more likely to pass a positive interaction to the next person. The microkindness can be a moment of remembering what makes you human in the presence of another human. In that moment, ever so briefly, you are the same being: a being that can be alive and aware of technological and social complexity and ambiguity of meaning and still be aware and acknowledge another in the moment. Then we can see that society is still there under the data about isolation and distress and the headlines and social woes.
The small act of kindness and micrcokindness is not a solution, but it is a sign of being committed to the power of paying attention to detail and caring about the little things. This is a very human willingness to nurture what is good. According to the Daoist teachers, this capacity and willingness to acknowledge the life and goodness of another person is like a bird’s patience to sit on the eggs until they hatch. It is part of nature, and it is part of our nature to look after one another and take care of life. It is not about waiting for better times to take care of life or a friendship.
My colleague and I had a short but meaningful in-person conversation that day we met for lunch in a near-empty cafe, and we agreed to meet again and make time for in-person interaction. Taking care of friendship is about remaining connected even when it is inconvenient to take care of the little things that nurture the friendship. It is nurturing life after all. If it ever starts getting inconvenient to nurture life, that’s when the serious problems are already in play.