In Defense of Small Talk

SP had the recent good fortune of attending two dinner parties held on consecutive evenings. While both of these dinners were attended by an interesting assortment of guests, both offered delicious food and both provided endless amusement and intelligent banter, there was one stark difference. The first event was an assemblage of old friends gathering for the first time in a long time and the conversation percolated seamlessly from the first drink right on through to the last dessert. The second dinner was a mix of old and new friends taking part in the timeless social ritual of introducing new people to one another and again, the chat was never at a standstill. In fact, a hot topic at the New Friends dinner was ignited by the remark, “I don’t do small talk.” This led to a dialogue in which the guests attempted to define “small talk”. Then there was the requisite outcry of “I hate the question, ‘What do you do?’”.  Which prompted the question “What are the appropriate questions to ask new acquaintances and what constitutes small talk?” Still with me?

On the occasion of the Old Friends dinner party small talk is unnecessary. All in attendance knew each other as well as their histories. The conversation flowed like a white-water river. Anecdotes were shared, memories were taken down from the shelf and laughter ensued. As for the New Friends dinner, it is SP’s opinion that small talk is a necessary element. Regarding the question “What do you do?” it strikes me as incredibly rude to begin a conversation with this query. It smacks of condescension and perhaps a person who cannot answer with a seemingly triumphant “VP of Important Things at The VIP Company” may feel inadequate. One of our more sensitive (and well-mannered) hosts summed up this feeeling thus. “I am always afraid someone will be embarrassed by the question, if not the answer,” she said.  “Especially in these hard times when so many people are out of work.” This is definitely a concern, I argued, but not something to be necessarily considered. While yes, bluntly asking someone what they do – in my mind this is akin to asking someone how much money they make — can be in some cases used by ill-mannered people with the purpose of weeding people out. It is as if their response dictates whether the conversation should continue (which is an abominable rudeness). In this situation — regardless of the intention of the person asking the question — the onus is on the receiver of such to be prepared for that question. In essence, the question is intended to glean information for finding common interests — and yes, networking and possible business connections.  But this question is also, in the best sense, intended to learn how one spends one’s days. In fact, that might be the more civil question, “How do you spend your days?”

In defense of small talk, we must first recognize that small talk is necessary. The key to remember in small talking with strangers or new acquaintances is this: ask questions – polite, not too personal, non-threatening questions. How long will you be in town? Have you seen the new Picasso exhibit? People inherently want to talk about themselves and by asking questions you appear interested, polite and a master conversationalist. Perhaps a good question to lead with — and this is the one SP employs –  would be “Where are you from?” And I mean that in the true Southern sense of “Where were you born?” When someone answers that he is from New York, I ask really? You were born in New York City? Which nine times out of ten prompts the correction, “Oh no, I was born in Tulsa, but I live in New York.” This answer tells me far more about a person than what they do and sparks far more interesting follow-up questions such as “How did you end up in New York from Tulsa?” Then suddenly, voila, you discover what they “do”. See how simple it all is? Tact. Decorum. Consideration. Generosity. Not only are these elements necessary for civil discourse but the implementation of these civil passions leads one on a far more interesting journey than the blunt Cliff’s’ Notes  style of communicating, especially at a dinner table or drinks party.