The Psychology of "Hello"

What a morning bike ride had to say about the human condition

It was early morning along the Salt Creek Trail in west suburban Chicago. Dew on the grass. Sun low behind the tall trees. The light glinting from the branches. I had planned a long bike ride east, hoping to travel some 20 miles, a peaceful, round trip on a late summer day. As always, however, even in the early hours, the trail had its inhabitants—walkers, runners, other bicyclists.

An old man in a white baseball cap and a tie-dye shirt emerged from the trailhead, riding his too-small-for-his-body bike.

“Good morning,” he bellowed, offering a big wave and a toothless grin.

“Good morning,” I said, smiling.

What a nice gesture, I thought. A hearty greeting to a total stranger.

As I passed the man and made the first turn on the path, I wondered: What if I said “good morning” to every person along this trail this morning? How would that go? Not just one or two, not just the ones who appeared to be friendly or willing to accept my greeting, but every . . . single . . . person I saw along the way?

At the next bend, I could see a young couple, a man and woman, walking silently toward me. They made no eye contact and appeared to be avoiding my presence.

“Morning!” I said.

Nothing.

Around the next bend near a clearing, a runner, a young woman, alone, focused and diligent. She, too, avoided my eyes.

“Good morning,” I said.

One beat, then two. No response. Then, after the initial silence, the woman belted out from her position behind me. “Yes! Hello! Good morning!” It was if she was making amends for first ignoring me.

Maybe her reluctance was a matter of caution, I thought. Alone here in the woods.

After a short stretch where I saw no one, a man walking three German Shepherds on separate leashes appeared along the trail near a small wooden bridge.

“Good morning,” I said. “Beautiful dogs.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, almost inaudibly, as if annoyed by the interruption of his walk. He then wrestled his dogs closer.

“Have a good day,” I called as I rode along.

Nothing more.

At the next turn, two women were walking together, one was animatedly talking to the other. I heard something that sounded like, “the insurance would cover it.”

“Good morning, ladies.” I said.

“But then we got this letter that said, no. It wouldn’t,” the woman continued. No acknowledgment of me or my bike. “You would think…” Her voice and the conversation trailed off as I rode on.

Chipmunks scurried across my path. The snap of acorns under my wheels. A running man wearing earbuds passed by. I didn’t bother to say anything. He couldn’t hear me anyway.

“On your left,” I said as I came up behind an older woman speed walking. As I passed, I said, “Thank you and good morning!”

Nothing.

I passed more runners, a few walkers, a woman with a baby in a stroller. Two men cycling together, one wearing highly unnecessary professional Tour-de-France style bike wear, sped by me. “Good morning guys!” I said.

Nothing.

I kept up the hellos for the remainder of my ride, and by the end of it, I was perplexed and a little sad. Most people did not respond to my greetings, and not one of them had initiated a hello.

What kept people from simply acknowledging each other with a simple “good morning?”

I did a bit of research on online forums and asked around to friends. Here’s a little of what I found.

Some attributed the lack of response to culture. Spontaneously smiling or talking to strangers is, well, strange. Certainly, in metropolitan areas it is less likely that people would acknowledge you or even wave. One friend insisted that most people are introverts. But has it always been that way? Has the pandemic changed our level of human engagement forever?

In one online forum, an American man wrote about his five week stay in Australia, driving 11,000 miles in a Campervan. He said that while out on the road nearly everyone greeted everyone else with a cheery “G’Day.” And where he lived in Idaho, country folks waved on the road all the time. A matter of custom, he said.

Is it generational? Have we become so me-centered today that it’s accepted behavior to ignore one another? I wondered, too, was I the weirdo out there on the bike ride? The strange guy saying hello to everyone?

Psychologists have suggested that greeting a stranger with a simple “hello” can boost your mood and theirs. too. You never truly know what people are going through behind their smiles, frowns, or gazes. A short greeting and smile could be just the encouragement or positivity they need. Then again, depending on where their emotions rest at the moment, the same greeting could appear as a threat.

Over the last few years there’s been a big effort underway in America and elsewhere, encouraging us all to “practice kindness.” Maybe that will eventually change how greeting a stranger might be interpreted. Even before the bike ride, I had been someone who frequently said “hello” to strangers, especially when our eyes would meet. It was rude to do otherwise. I see no reason to change, even if there’s evidence that many of us are more reluctant than ever to greet our fellow man.

A few days later on another ride, my morning of perpetual greetings behind me, I found myself silent to those I passed until I came upon an old man in baggy clothes struggling to walk his bicycle along a narrow sidewalk.

“Are you okay, sir?” I asked. “Do you need a hand?”

Appearing slightly startled, he looked up through his thick eyeglasses and studied me for a moment.

“No. No.”

“Thought maybe you broke down,” I said.

Again, he studied me.

“You know, young man,” he said, “I really do appreciate you asking.”

“Just wanted to be sure.” As I rode on, I called out, “Hope your day is a good one.”

I was too far along to hear if he had anything else to say.

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Photo: Philipp M.