A couple weeks ago, I found myself back in my old stomping grounds, the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. If you’ve never been there, I promise you it’s worth the trip. Just get on I-91 and keep driving … and driving, and driving, and driving. Several hours in, you’ll arrive, dizzied by the gorgeous landscape — and unable to text anyone back home about it, because your cell phone will have no signal.
In some parts of Vermont, dead cell zones are almost as plentiful as maple trees. That’s the situation I found myself in, up in the off-grid dirt roads of Glover. Despite my having grown up around there, these particular roads were unfamiliar, and my phone could not access GPS. So, I did something I hadn’t done in quite a long time: I rolled down my window and asked a human being for directions.
The scene felt seriously retro. There I was, leaning out my window, pointing and gesticulating, and the sweet teenager used landmarks like an old cemetery and a defunct garage to orient me. The directions she gave me were perfect. I arrived at my destination, my phone lying cold and useless at the bottom of my handbag.
Once upon a time, I’d ask for directions all the time. It was a thing that we did, remember? Or maybe you didn’t, and other people teased you for refusing to do it. (“Men!”) Back in the olden days, people used to ask me for directions fairly regularly. I live on a busy street that leads right into town, and many times drivers would pull up and lean out the window, just as I did the other week, checking to make sure they were heading in the right direction.
But it doesn’t happen anymore. I cannot recall the last time anyone asked me for directions. I love turn-by-turn GPS apps: They have given me the confidence to drive pretty much anywhere, anxiety-free. But the fact remains that a point of human interaction has been lost.
No matter how introverted we may be, we humans are still social creatures, and we need to talk to each other. Few things are worse for us than social isolation, but a lot of us suffer from it anyway — and I mean A LOT, like 42 million Americans over age 45. Researchers at Brigham Young University recently looked at two different meta-analyses and found that greater social connection can reduce risk of early death by a whopping 50 percent. It turns out that what psychologists call “social integration” isn’t just about having close friends: It’s also made up of the tiny interactions a person has over the course of a day, whether with a barista, a grocery bagger or the person in line ahead of you.
According to Susan Pinker, creator of the TED Talk “The Secret to Living Longer May Be Your Social Life,” social integration is a better predictor of how long you’ll live than access to clean air, diet, exercise, and drinking habits. (She also points out that getting a flu vaccine is a stronger predictor of your longevity than exercise, too. Go get your flu shot.)
There are risks involved here. My kids cringe when I am too chatty with random people on the subway, on the sidewalk, in a cafe. “Mom,” one of them might hiss, “that person isn’t interested.” But it’s not about being interested. It’s about boosting the invisible connective tissue that makes us all feel a little less alone (embarrassing my children is just a side benefit). There’s privilege in feeling able to strike up conversation with random strangers, of course. Talking to passersby involves a little risk. You don’t want to find yourself in an exchange with someone who takes a friendly comment as an invitation to stalk you — or call the cops on you.
Luckily, when I asked directions, it was from the safety of a vehicle with its engine running. I got the exactly the same information I would have gotten from my GPS, plus a little more: fresh air when I opened my window, the small psychological hit of smiling and being met with a smile in return, and the nostalgia of all the days when I was the teenage kid pointing out directions to cars with out-of-state license plates as I walked on the side of a Vermont dirt road at twilight.
Naomi Shulman’s work has appeared in many publications including The New York Times, The Washington Post and Yankee Magazine, as well as on NEPR and WBUR. Follow her on Twitter: @naomishulman.