I’ve always been interested in how people behave in public. Tube trains are fascinating places to observe how people cope with being close to strangers.
I sometimes do this experiment with students. I set out five chairs in a row, then another five facing them. It’s meant to feel like a Tube carriage. I randomly choose someone to enter and sit down. They usually, though not always, choose a seat at one end. The next person will often choose a seat as far away as possible, at the opposite end. Then it gets interesting. With fewer choices, the next person may go for the middle. The next person might also choose the middle, but perhaps avoid sitting directly the one already there.
They create their own little territories and even send signals to keep others from sitting near them. Some listen to music, read a book, stare at the adverts above the windows or disappear into their phone; most people are somewhere else scrolling these days. When given a choice, we seem to avoid invading other people’s territory, particularly through direct eye contact. We do something similar on a beach. If someone is already there, we instinctively work out what feels like a respectable distance before putting down our towel. It’s understandable. We don’t know the strangers around us and, generally, we don’t want to become involved with them.
I remember travelling on the Tube during the London Olympics. Suddenly, complete strangers seemed more willing to talk. A shared sense of occasion and conversation moved beyond the usual silence. Something had given everyone permission to connect.
Rush hour is different again. You can find yourself crushed against people you have never met. Then we pretend we are not quite so close. We look away or study the floor. Occasionally someone makes a joke to relieve the awkwardness, but mostly we grin and bear it in silence. I have a friend who travelled by Tube every working day. He could usually find a seat, but if someone got on who looked like they needed it more, he would always stand and offer it to them. The age of chivalry is not dead. On the other hand, plenty of people can look straight through someone who might need their seat.
What do I take away from all this? People are endlessly interesting. Years ago, you might have spotted the stereotypical city gent in a suit, bowler hat, and umbrella. Now things are more casual; who wears a tie now?. For anyone interested in theatre, it’s useful material. It’s all in their behaviour, and all you have to do is watch.
