Letters From Esther: Talk to strangers—and listen to them.

Shall We Begin?

Talk to strangers.

It’s easier said than done. Avoiding strangers has become the social norm. Look around any public transport and you’ll be met with your fellow commuters’ foreheads as they stare at their phones. Upon meeting someone new in the virtual realm, especially when it comes to dating, it’s become standard to “research” them before meeting in real life. In some parts of the world, it’s still common to say hello as you pass someone on the street, but even that has become increasingly rare. Why? Is it the phones? Is it our hyper-individualized culture? Is it the “stranger danger” campaigns of the ‘80s? It’s all of these, and more.

Even though we know that the majority of violent crime occurs between non-strangers (as in, people who already know each other), the very idea of interacting with strangers can be frightening for many, many valid reasons. While we often turn to what and whom we know, micro-interactions with people we don’t know are a fundamental part of social connection and well-being.

So many of us are talking about the importance of community but are struggling with how to build and sustain it. This is not an individual failing. Our era of hyper virtualization and individualization makes real-life connections feel impossible sometimes. That said, if we want to make more connections possible—from simple fleeting moments with strangers to going deeper with loved ones—it is an individual responsibility to try.

For the last few months, we’ve been looking at ways to go deeper with the people we already know and ways to expand our circle of care. Just as important is the practice of breaking the ice with people we don’t know yet, maybe even people we won’t see again: the ones we pass in the lobby, sit beside on the train, stand with in line, sing alongside at a concert, or the ones who help us check out at the grocery store.

These are the people who share our world, our town, our staircase, our coffee shop. And we share theirs, yet we often pass each other by. So many of us are missing out on the knowing nod of a stranger who likes our outfit or the smile from someone who is also witnessing the same funny interaction play out. Can you even imagine how many flirtatious passing glances we’re missing?

Reconnecting to all of this energy takes real intention and practice.

Good morning, how are you?

Great shirt.

Do you know where the nearest supermarket is?

Any chance I can get a recommendation for a great affordable restaurant around here?

When we learn a new language, we often learn sentences like these first. Why? Because whether we’re exploring something new or surviving the unknown, we are dependent on interactions with strangers. Community building, sharing a laugh, entering a new workplace…each of these requires social skills. This, too, is a language that requires practice.

We are living through a global relational recession: loneliness, distrust, polarization, social atrophy, the weakening of our social muscles. What happens in the micro spills into the macro. The small ruptures and silences of daily life become the large-scale fractures of society. But changing these realities starts small.

Researcher Nicholas Epley shows that we consistently underestimate how good it feels to talk to strangers. We predict awkwardness, but what we get is uplift. A micro-moment of connection. A sense of being part of something larger.

Psychologist Barbara Fredrickson calls these moments “positivity resonance,” the shared spark of warmth with someone we may never see again, a resonance that strengthens our well-being and capacity for connection.

Writer Teju Cole describes attention itself as a form of intimacy. And novelist Zadie Smith reminds us that strangers—whether we meet them in books or in real life—expand our moral imagination; they crack open the closed loop of the self.

Talking to strangers doesn’t just brighten our day. It counteracts fear, prejudice, and polarization. Behind every act of reaching out is a negotiation between two forces: curiosity, the desire to explore, discover, and engage, and fear—of rejection, awkwardness, the unknown, and of crossing an invisible social line. These are all normal feelings. Don’t let them become normal reasons not to reach out even in the smallest, most low-risk of ways: the simple act of saying hello.

As the Irish poet William Butler Yeats wrote: “There are no strangers here, only people you haven’t yet met.”

Let’s Turn the Lens on You

This month, practice one intentional moment of openness each week.

Here are some ideas, but you’re welcome to create your own:

• Ask your server their favorite dish.

• Ask your neighbor how long they’ve lived there and what they’ve seen change.

• Say “What did you think?” to someone nearby when the lights come up in the movie theater.

• Speak to the person next to you on a plane before you put on your headphones.

The point is not depth. The point is practice, the gentle strengthening of our social muscles. Talking to strangers is a low-stakes way to rebuild the skills that many of us have lost. It’s relational “training wheels,” especially for those who feel out of practice, overwhelmed, or unsure where to begin.