Silence Promotes Loneliness

Saturday afternoon at a Borders cafe: I’m alone with my coffee and my thoughts.

The fellow alone at the table beside me closes his newspaper and begins to laugh.

“What’s funny?” I ask, smiling, ready to talk.

He says: “I was just remembering a story I read last week about ballroom dancing coming back to college campuses.”

“I read that, too!” I reply, excited that we already share some common ground.

I should have been wary. Anyone who laughs out loud over something they read days ago is, well, unusual.

Soon there was no doubt. He launched into an odd monologue about AIDS and affirmative action. Within a minute I was lost, unable to figure out what any of this had to do with ballroom dancing, or why it was funny, or why I’d said a word to him in the first place.

I averted my eyes from his face to my coffee. I picked up my own newspaper. He didn’t take my signals.

Finally I stood up, sooner than I would have, and told him a lie: “Nice to talk to you.”

Why is it so hard to strike up conversations with strangers?

Most are busy, aloof or suspicious. People eager to talk are sometimes geeks.

Maybe people think I’m one, too.

But I hate the growing silence among us, the edginess and fear, and my own, too.

Recently I read about a Paris cafe where strangers gather on Sunday mornings to talk about topics like “Is there life after love?” and “How much tolerance is too much?”

A man in his 40s says there’s no place else he can safely share ideas with people he doesn’t know. “These days,” he said, “if you talk to a stranger you’re taken for a flirt or a drug addict.”

Or a con man.

Or a lonely heart.

Or a weirdo.

I guess it’s the times.

Forty years ago, 58 percent of Americans believed most people could be trusted. Five years ago, only 35 percent thought so.

As our distrust grows, our conversation shrinks. Because we talk less, we never understand each other. Suspicion grows, and the circle goes round and round.

So says neurolinguist John L. Locke in his terrific new book, “The De-Voicing of Society: Why We Don’t Talk to Each Other Anymore” (Simon & Schuster, $25). He also blames automobiles, suburbanization, garage door openers, self-service gas stations, Internet shopping and other phenomena that separate us and allow us to get what we need without having to exchange words with anyone.

Cell phones, e-mail, answering machines all make the transfer of information more efficient. But they rob us of the sweet waves of small talk and substance that pass between two people when they look into each others’ eyes.

You can force that with friends: “Meet me for dinner.”

But there’s no easy place to talk to strangers.

Bars used to be good, but they’ve installed televisions. So have airport waiting lounges.

At a hockey game, you can trade a few words with the people beside you, but it never goes far.

At Home Depot, you can swap home improvement details. But it’s no place to talk about love.

No wonder we’re lonely.