During a recent episode of Marc Maron’s WTF podcast (the one with Bill Burr), there was a brief mention of how some people interpret a person’s silence, when in a social space. After an event in his life that left him with a lot to think about, he happened to end up at a place with a bunch of people, and they found him to be not very talkative. Well, he was thinking about all that stuff he had to think about. But others didn’t see that. They thought he was being arrogant. To me, that seems like quite a large assumption those other people were making. So, sometimes people don’t want to talk. What’s the big deal? I don’t know for sure, but I have a few theories.

Atmosphere counts for a lot. If you’re with a bunch of people who are joking around, being funny, having a good time, then the quiet person might come off as a downer. Worse still, they might appear to be depressed or troubled. Lot’s of people tend to avoid those who seem dour, because they’re just no fun. It could be as simple as that.

Or: Being the quiet person in the room is, ironically, something that can attract a lot of attention. In a place where everyone is trying to figure out what everyone else’s deal is, forming their own interpretations as to what everyone else is about, conversation is a vital clue. In social situations where everyone else is talking quite a bit, the quiet one stands out because he or she seems to be working from a different agenda.

The person you’re talking to is giving you information, just as you are giving information to them. You’re exchanging data. However, the quiet person is not exchanging information. Some may suspect that he or she is taking it all in, absorbing data, without actually giving any information back (even though what’s really going on is that they’re just distracted by their own thoughts). So, they get to figure you out, while they remain the cipher in the catbird seat. That can be disconcerting. It feels unfair. You’ve just exposed yourself (verbally), and there they are observing, possibly judging, while maintaining a fortified position.

Or: As Bill Burr mentioned, people might interpret the unwillingness to talk as arrogance. As if the quiet guy or gal is saying, “I’m above all this petty bullshit,” without actually saying it. But that’s kind of a leap to make about a person, when all they’re doing is not talking much. People sometimes have some shit going on, you know? Unless the quiet person is dramatically sneering, and then peering at you over the hem of their cape, you needn’t immediately assume that they’re silently judging you.

The problem is that quiet individuals are nearly blank slates, on to which some people can’t avoid projecting their own insecurities. If someone is afraid of sounding like an idiot, they might think the quiet person is thinking that he or she sounds like an idiot. If someone is worried about their own value as a person, they might interpret the quiet person’s silence as dismissive.

Can you tell I’ve had problems with this kind of thing? I don’t generally talk much when at functions where there are a lot of strangers about. It’s nothing to do with arrogance or judgment, I’m just shy. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and upset somebody, or waste their time with a bunch of boring, awkward shit. And, sometimes, when there’s a lot of people around, it’s hard to find an opening.

It comes back to bite me in the ass, occasionally. Timidity just doesn’t work. (Especially when alcohol is involved, and I’m not the one involved with it.)

A: “What’s that guy’s problem, why’s he so quiet?”

B: “Him? Oh, he’s okay — he’s just kind of shy.”

A: “No, fuck that — that guy’s a dick.”

(Anyway, be sure to check out Marc Maron’s podcast — that Bill Burr one was extremely good, if you can’t decide which was to check out first. Burr’s also got his own thing going on, too. I haven’t checked it out, yet, but he’s a funny man, so I’ve got a good feeling about it.)