Are Human Encounters Becoming Endangered?
Here’s one small way you can save them
Years ago, before I engaged in ridiculous smartphone behaviors like checking texts while crossing the street, I was in a foul mood and went for a walk. I looked up from the cracked sidewalk to see a beautiful woman — afro glistening, ornate hoops dangling from her ears, a smart trench coat cinched around her waist — walking towards me. We exchanged an I-see-you-seeing-me smile. It’s openness disarmed me. Her kind, playful energy changed my entire state. It was what I call an encounter.
I think of encounters as interactions which, like physics’ famed colliding particles, leave each party transformed in some way. Encounters have intensity but they do not have to be dramatic. A big encounter could be a breakthrough with your significant other, when you finally hear what they’ve been trying to say — or vice versa — and a fountain of grief-tears you didn’t know existed bursts forth. And as my passing stranger story suggests, encounters can also be wordless exchanges: a dance or sharing a laugh with someone who speaks a different language, a connection with an animal at home or in the wild, or a deep hug. They are embodied.
At a restaurant last weekend, a table of twenty-somethings sat next to us, celebrating a birthday. Two were watching the ballgame, separately, on their mobile phones. This was fine with everyone. They seemed happy. I felt sad. The opportunities for a real encounter, by my GenX standards, seemed diminished.
In a 2023 Guardian article, Naomi Klein lists the many problems that engineers falsely claim AI can solve, including poverty and loneliness. She argues the impossibility lies not in the limitations of computing but because capitalist societies and its evils have not changed. I believe no matter how deep our reliance on computers and robots, transformation is limited because we can’t have real encounters with AI, though if you’ve ever found yourself yelling at an automated customer service phone line, it can feel that way. Larry David perfectly captures one such tantrum in the final season of Curb Your Enthusiasm, while attempting to use Siri to get directions. Need a laugh? Check it out. You're welcome.
AI can, in a way, reflect you to yourself — as Siri reveals David’s murderous rage — but you can’t have a real encounter, a shared experience of connection. Take a moment to reflect on significant encounters in your life: A romantic interlude with a traveling stranger; a fight with a teammate that gave way to a breakthrough once the storm clouds cleared; when you saw someone struggling and offered a hand. Any exchange that helped you feel more dimensional and connected to humanity.
The power of the encounter shows us the immensity of our impact on each other: that person directly affected my life. To preserve it, we must ask: what is it worth?
It’s a question to ask ourselves. In my own screen addiction, and perhaps from over-Zooming, I’ve noticed that I’ve stopped consistently seeing each person in their fullness. The other day at the dry cleaners, thinking about an essay, headphones in my ears, I received the hangers from the clerk and realized I had barely seen her. I turned back to face her and the most lovely green eyes met mine. We shared a smile that somehow said thank you.
When you encounter someone — if you have the gift of sight, for not all of us do — do you see their eyes? Eye contact changes the 2D quality of daily life in an instant. Registering the eyes of those in proximity — not in a creepy or prolonged way — is a simple way to stay connected as our interactions with and dependence on computers continue to flourish. Try it as you move through the world. Assuming you feel safe, briefly meet the eyes of the supermarket clerk, the pharmacist, your employee or friend or child, when saying thank you, how are you, I love you. Eyes are gateways to an encounter. We can use them to practice seeing each other in the ways only humans can — with tenderness, curiosity and awe.
What do encounters mean to you? How are are you keeping embodied connection alive?
Early Tuesday morning I take a rare trip to the small local grocery. I’m familiar with almost every clerk there because I always ask them questions - although I don’t think we know each other’s names. And yet. I take my items to check out. I ask the man working this morning - 30-something - “How are you?” He pauses with an empty gaze. “Oh, okay.” I’ve “known” this fellow for years and only in this context. After I pay and start to gather my things, he says, “You know I paused there because, because, well, my close friend committed suicide last month. And I think it still hits me unexpectedly.” I mostly sympathize and let him talk. We talk about memorializing* his friend, letting the waves come, not trying to “get over it.” And then another customer walks up. The cashier just looks straight into my eyes. “Thanks,” he says. “Thanks for telling me,” I say. The encounter has stayed with me, obviously. Maybe it did with him, too.
‘Eyes are the gateway to an encounter.’ What a fabulous way to describe our daily interactions. That’s a phrase I’ll think about from now on. ‘Eyes are the gateway to an encounter.’ Thank you, Blair!