On Introverts. . .

On Introverts. . . November 16, 2013

So I was in a funk earlier today and decided that I would reread that book on introverts that appeared a year or so ago as a bit of a boost, and went onto the library’s online catalog. This is what I found:

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, by Susan Cain, 8 holds on 5 copies.

The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World, by Sophia Dembling, 2 holds on 1 copy.

Introvert Power: Why Your Inner Life is Your Hidden Strength, by Laurie A. Helgoe, sole copy checked out.

So apparently the popularity of “pro-introvert” memes floating around on the internet a while back has persisted, and, introverts being readers after all, introvert-friendly reading material is in high demand.

Now, if you’ve been living under a rock, the classic difference between introverts and extroverts is that introverts need “alone time” to regenerate from draining social occaisons, whereas those very social occaisons leave extroverts energized. Of course, that’s not enough to fill a book, and at least the first of the three books above continues with ways in which the introvert’s introspection is an advantage in problem-solving, and various other aspects of Introvert Power.

But that always seems to be as far as it goes. No one really seems to acknowledge that there’s a “why” underlying this.

It’s (at least to a significant degree) a social skill issue.  If you’re a bit sucky in the social skills department (maybe not a full-blown Aspie — which psychiatrists tell us doesn’t exist anyway; it’s all just autism — but just tendencies in that direction), being in a large group is hard. You worry about whether you’re going to end up saying something inappropriate or just fail to really be a part of the conversation, and then you berate yourself afterwards when you do. You look around the room and aren’t really sure who to talk to in the first place, and, let’s face it, no one’s really seeking you out, either. You struggle to understand the conversation in a noisy room because it is, after all, a sort of social skill to fill in the unheard words. Of course a large group is draining.

At the same time, a large anonymous group in which you don’t have to worry about being “on the spot” is a different story altogether. Good times, those college hockey games.

And, depending on the context, the noise of a large group can itself be bothersome for some people, and quiet is soothing because, well, it’s a break from the noise.

But it’s not simply intrinsically about a person’s inward or outward focus; or, at least, the particular difficulties of socializing complicate the picture.

As for extroverts — well, most solitary activities require a certain intellectual focus, whether it’s reading, or journaling, or someone who plays the piano or sews or knits.  So is an extrovert, at least sometimes or in part, someone who is less able to focus, and less able to enjoy these sorts of solitary activities?  (Of course, the world of video gaming has introduced new solitary activities which are not particularly intellectual and don’t require much focus.)  I’d say more about extroverts but — let’s face it — I don’t know any well enough to understand them, anyway.

UPDATE: Thinking about this some more. There are extroverts with poor social skills; I know one and maybe you do, too. If you’re somewhat oblivious — and either happen to land in a tolerant social group or are involved in activities where the socializing is scheduled (e.g., church young adult group, Jaycees, etc.), and you don’t have to worry about whether your invitations are reciprocated, it’s much easier.

The question to think about is this: is someone who’s an introvert, a life-long introvert, and the reverse? Or does it depend on the type of social situations/social groups one ends up in over the course of one’s life?


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