HOW TO GET MORE VITAMIN S

I recently conducted a month-long experiment in which I sat on a Chat Bench almost every day, talking to complete strangers.  The results so startled me that I wrote about it for the Washington Post (behind a paywall but subscribers can read the full piece here).   Hundreds of people responded to the article, keen to share their own remarkable stories of Vitamin S. So what’s going on?

Talking to strangers is very good for our brains and for our mental health, I discovered, after interviewing Dr Paul Van Lange, a Dutch psychologist who researches the unexpected benefits of encountering people we don’t know.

Upshot? If you do one new thing this autumn, can I suggest you talk, daily, to a stranger?   Van Lange calls it Vitamin S, where the S stands for both Social Connection and Stranger.  He says that the most difficult part of getting a dose of Vitamin S is initiating conversation: what do we say? How do we start? What if we’re rebuffed?

Which is where the Chat Bench comes in.

A Chat Bench is nothing more than a plain old bench with a sign attached that reads something like the one in the picture.   If you search online you’ll find conflicting stories about the origins of Chat Benches. But the story that most struck me was that of Detective Sargeant Ashley Jones who came up with the idea  after interviewing a fraud victim called Sylvia.  Jones was shocked to discover that 89-year old Sylvia had been willingly conned out of  more than £25,000 because she was so desperate for a few minutes of daily phone conversation with her ruthlessly clever scammer.

Detective Sargeant Jones thought that a park bench designated for chatting might reduce crime and act as an antidote to the loneliness that had left Sylvia prepared to give away all her money in return for some human connection. Today, Jones has a CBE for his efforts. Meanwhile Chat Benches are being rolled out across the world, from America and Australia to the Ukraine, with the latest appearing in my local London park.

Throughout May, I visited the Bench most days, using the Chat Bench concept as my opening gambit.  Whenever I passed the bench, I made a point of conversing with whomever was on it. No one realised they were sitting on a so-called Chat Bench, but as soon as I pointed it out, everyone was eager to talk – rather to my surprise.   I’ve not had one boring or disappointing conversation. Instead I’ve learnt about the remarkable lives of dozens of people (from young film makers to middle aged criminals to elderly travellers), most of whom I would never normally meet.

Many people confided in me, keen to share their concerns.  This isn’t unusual, says Van Lange. His studies show that the dynamic between strangers is completely different to that with friends and family.  There’s no power dynamic, he told me. Two people on a bench are equal.  There’s also no danger of them repeating our secrets because they’re unlikely to be in the same social network.  And because they don’t know us, they are less likely to judge us.

Why – other than blunting the loneliness so often a hallmark of ageing – do conversations with strangers help us age well?

According to Van Lange, when we talk to strangers we activate a web of neural networks that isn’t activated when we gossip with friends and family. Our brain has to work harder to read their expressions, to decipher their body language, to grasp their mode of speaking.  Our brains are constantly short-cutting, filling in the blanks.  When we converse with strangers, the brain  can’t take its usual short cuts by making its usual multiple assumptions. Instead, we have to listen more acutely, pay more attention. A sort of work-out for the mind.

In the distant past (and even today, arguably) strangers offered both possibility and potential peril. These interactions required more vigilance but also came with a hint of hope and opportunity.  They were encounters that could, quite literally, take us anywhere.  This might explain why significant conversations with strangers can linger in our memories for infinitely longer than a significant conversation with someone we know well.  Our brain works hard to comprehend and assess the stranger we’re talking to, and, in the process, lays down memories in glorious technicolour.

According to science journalist and researcher, David Robson, whose latest book investigates the phenomenal power of social connection (The Laws of Connections: 13 Social Strategies that Will Inform Your Life), conversations with strangers prompt our brain to grow new neurons.  Yes, my bench chats expanded my brain!

Positive encounters with strangers also make us feel good. Dr Bruce Hood, author of The Science of Happiness, recently published a study in which he listed his seven most important ‘happiness hacks’. At number two was ‘increasing social connections, including initiating conversations with people you don’t know.’

Hood believes that encounters with strangers are life-enhancing because they shift our perspective. When we talk to someone we don’t know  – and who is very likely to be out of our usual circle of contacts – we alter ‘the sense of self from one that is overly egocentric, focusing and ruminating on our problems and position in life, to one that is allocentric – part of a connected, interrelated network of others and the world at large’ (his words).

Chat Benches are ideal because they offer us agency, says Van Lange.  Unlike a queue or an aeroplane (for example), we are free to get up and leave at any time.  This agency, he told me, is really important: people talk more readily when they don’t feel trapped.

Chat Benches also ease the awkwardness of initiating  conversation – by being a talking point. My opening gambit was usually to point out the sign, and ask if the sitter wanted to know the history of Chat Benches. While most people had no idea they were sitting on a bench designated for conversation, they were usually intrigued by the concept (or perhaps just very polite!).  Conversation then flowed. Indeed, several of my conversations lasted for an hour or longer. I still make detours to my local Chat Bench for a dose of Vitamin S.  But I’ve also found that – thanks to my experiment – I feel more comfortable talking to strangers anywhere.

And now another type of ‘conversational’ bench is about to roll out in the UK, based on the phenomenally successful Zimbabwean scheme of Grandmother’s Benches (sometimes called Friendship Benches) in which grandmothers were recruited and trained to sit on benches and act as informal therapists, or ‘listeners,’ at a time when Zimbabwe had one psychiatrist to cover the entire population.  We’ll update you on this when the first bench arrives.

In the meantime, if you want to experiment with Vitamin S seek out your nearest Chat Bench (or instigate your own), spend some time on it – and let us know what happens by leaving a comment in the Comment Box.  If you have your own special way of encountering strangers, without a Chat Bench, please do share  it!

There’s still time to book tickets (just click on the links) for my talk at the  Cheltenham Literary Festival on 10 October. I’ll also be talking in Putney (London) on 3 October; Oxford on 8 October; Mayfair (London) on 9 October; and Steyning, Sussex on 16 October. Do come and say hello!

Annabel