Properly Distanced, Curtailed Contact, Intimate Interactions - Part 1

       Early in this pandemic the term 'social distancing', of course, emerged, which eventually became synonymous with the actual experience of being physically distanced (equal to or greater than six feet, for some scientifically derived reason). So one of the casualties of COVID we have all come to experience all too well is the decrease in physical contact that we usually associate with casual encounters  (e.g., hand shakes, high fives, fist bumps, etc.) as well as more intimate interactions (primarily, but not exclusively, hugging).  There have been (dire) predictions from many social commentators that hand shakes, fist bumps, and even elbow touches, let alone hugs, may become part of our societal lore for a few generations in the future. 

       Just what are the social and psychological ramifications of social distancing, of curtailed physical contact? This is not just a topic of contemporary interest but has been studied vigorously by my professional field for decades. Regarding hugs in particular, a family therapist prominent in the 70's and 80's (Virginia Satir) opined that it takes four hugs a day to simply survive, eight to keep us "as we are", and twelve per diem to grow -- uh-oh! We also have the classic experiments of Harry Harlow, illustrating the ominous developmental effects of social isolation and lack of (meaningful/nurturing) physical contact. More recently, studies in adolescence have accumulated regarding the apparent paradoxical relationship between the increase in connectivity available via the internet and the increase in the self-reported experience of being 'disconnected', isolated, and lonely (which together pose risks for anxiety and depression). Collectively, the latter studies (mirrored by my daily professional experience) seem to underscore the point that, while zoom cocktail parties, google hangouts, and virtual game groups (Xbox Live: "where your gaming life comes together with the games you love, the friends you play with, and the community that defines you") do have value as a social function, they turn out to be a meager replacement for more direct, person-to-person intimate interactions. 

       So how do we, anticipating at least several more months of being physically distanced from friends and relatives, replace or at least supplement the 'friendship of Facebook'? Given the limited space here (and the average attention span these days), I will offer you at least a partial solution in the next few days -- remind you of a cliffhanger on Netflix keeping you coming back? Probably not, but I hope you will pay me a return visit anyways!