Has Google Maps killed happiness?
Strangers, information currency and online check-ins.
I recently read a historical fiction novel. In one scene, two bedraggled travellers stumbled out of the woods into an unknown town, far from home. They don’t know the name of the town they find themselves in, and they have to split up, one person finding an inn whilst the other hunts down supplies. They talk to the local stableboy, who trades names, gossip and information as part of the usual service. This information is, of course, currency.
It also wouldn't be worth a penny in the modern world. The travellers would have been able to use Google Maps to discover the name of the town, and find out exactly where to go for what they need (and exactly what Julie, the top Local Reviewer, thought of the customer service besides). They could have booked an AirBnB for the night, used the contactless check-in box, bought food from the automated supermarket checkout, and left on the next train without having to hunt down whatever the 2025 equivalent of a stableboy is to get their answers.
I live in London. The thought of stopping a stranger, asking for information, and not simply Googling (or for some, ChatGPTing) the answer sends a shiver down my spine.
Whilst this readily accessible information has become less valuable, its absence is also potentially making us less happy. A study I heard about a while ago but return to again and again is about how even small social interactions can make us happier, starting with something as little as making eye contact with people. This podcast sums it up quite well, and this Guardian article (quoted below) does a wonderful job of expounding the benefits of interacting with strangers.
Encounters with strangers can be a humbling reminder of the vastness of the world and of each other, the impossible-feeling truth that each one of us contains an entire universe of inner life and a singular perspective, that as a species we have an incredible capacity for kindness, cruelty, courage and creativity.
Anecdotally, I know that interacting on a small scale with strangers (having a giggle with the barista as I mishear them for the third time, asking a waiter for a recommendation, telling someone I like their shoes) gives an absurd mood lift far out of proportion to the act itself. Letting a stranger know I like their clothes is strangely thrilling - sure, I regularly compliment my friends, but they’re safe and relatively predictable. The process of intruding into a separate bubble, a crossing of paths that would otherwise have remained parallel, drives a surprisingly powerful emotion.
I’m also sure that a lot of this is novelty - for the few people that go about welcoming strangers into their lives with open arms, their happiness is likely less likely to peak due to one of these interactions. I’m also not trying to glamorise the pre-internet era. Hermits still existed, and asking a stranger for directions likely won’t have given anyone a thrill, but the removal of the need for these interactions due to the information democratisation that is, on one hand, an incredible liberation, and on the other a great divider, a shame.
Obviously, I’m not going to recommend getting into strangers’ cars, or acting like a madman on the Piccadilly line and talking to everyone in sight, but I would encourage baby steps. Share a smile with someone at something cute that happens, tell a fellow commuter you like their coat, and if you happen to stumble out of the woods one day after a long walk, ask someone what the town is called.
Photo by Tamas Tuzes-Katai on Unsplash
As a non-Londoner, not living in the South, this is an interesting read. Part of my love of small, Midlands towns is how often I do get chatting to strangers! I was waiting at a train crossing and got chatting to a woman on a bike for the whole time, an old lady and me had a giggle about being caught in the rain without our brollies! Google Maps might be killing happiness, but maybe cities are too...?