Ring them first

"I'd only be bothering them"

Chapter 4 · 3 min read

The kindest-sounding reason for waiting is that your message would be an imposition. They're busy. You'd be one more notification. Better to leave them be.

This is a prediction about how your friend would feel on seeing your name, and researchers have tested that prediction directly.

Peggy Liu, SoYon Rim, Lauren Min and Kate Min ran a series of preregistered experiments. Some participants got in touch with someone in their social circle, either with a short message to say hello or with a small gift. Those participants predicted how much the other person would appreciate it. The researchers then asked the recipients how much they did appreciate it. Across the experiments the result was the same, and the authors call it robust. The people getting in touch underestimated how much it would be appreciated.

The researchers also looked at why. The person on the receiving end was more focused on the pleasant surprise of being thought of. The sender wasn't picturing that. The sender was thinking about whether the message was awkward or whether it needed a reason. The recipient was thinking, "Oh, how nice, I haven't heard from them in ages."

It follows that the effect should be larger when the contact is more of a surprise, and the researchers found that it was. The gap between expected and actual appreciation was bigger when the message came out of the blue. It was also bigger when it came from someone more distant than a close friend. Those are the very cases where you'd feel most hesitant. After fourteen months of silence, with a friendship that has drifted, you imagine your message being least welcome. But the research says that's where you're underestimating by the most.

A related finding comes from Nicholas Epley and Juliana Schroeder, who worked with commuters on trains and buses. They asked some to talk to a stranger, some to keep to themselves and some to do as they normally would. Separately, they asked other commuters to predict which would be more pleasant. People predicted that solitude would be nicer. The commuters who'd talked to someone reported a more positive journey, and no less productive a one. Part of the reason for the wrong prediction, the researchers found, was that people underestimated how interested others were in talking. They assumed the person next to them would prefer to be left alone. That person was assuming the same about them.

I should state the limits. Liu's experiments mostly involved brief messages and small gestures, and appreciation was measured soon afterwards. They don't show that every old friend wants a friendship revived. Epley and Schroeder's commuters were strangers, which is a different case from yours. What the two sets of studies share is a direction. When people guess how welcome their approach will be, they guess too low.

You can check this from your own side, and I find it more convincing than any study. Think of the last time someone you'd lost touch with got in touch with you. It might have been a message from an old school friend, or a card from a former neighbour, or a call from a cousin. Try to remember what you felt when you saw the name. I'd bet it wasn't "what a chore". I'd bet it was closer to pleasure, and that you told someone about it. "Guess who I heard from today." You probably thought well of them for doing it, and you certainly didn't think they were a nuisance.

Your friend is made the same way. The sigh you imagine when they see your name is something you've invented on their behalf, and it's unlike anything you've ever felt in their position.

One fair objection is that some people are overwhelmed, and a message really is one more thing. There's a simple answer, and chapter 12 builds it in. You can send a message that asks for nothing. "I walked past the sandwich place on Thursday and thought of you. Hope the new job's going well. No need to reply." Even the busiest person can receive that with nothing but pleasure, and most of them reply anyway.