Friction and Polish
What makes someone seem smooth?
Two stones sit next to each other at a bar. One of them is rough, bumpy, jagged; the other is smooth and round and polished. They both order drinks, and the bartender serves them.
Polished flits off to talk to various boulders and pebbles, laughing as it goes.
Jagged sips its drink in silence, watching as Polished charms various stones and gets the phone number of a particularly beautiful gem.
Eventually Polished returns to its seat, and Jagged turns to it.
“Hey,” says Jagged.
“What’s up?” responds Polished, turning to give Jagged its full attention.
“Can I ask you a question?” asks Jagged, looking down at its mineral water.
“Sure thing. What can I do for you?”
“How’d you get so smooth?” asks Jagged, a plaintive note in its voice.
Polished smiles. “Practice, my friend,” it says. “Lots and lots of practice.”
What does make someone seem smooth?
What social skill - or combination of social skills - make up that elusive sense of comfort, ease, and adaptability that allow someone to respond to any situation as if they were prepared for it, expecting it, born for it?
And most importantly, how does one get that social skill, if they don’t already have it?
I. The Metaphor
Mechanics
When two objects come into contact, there’s always friction. At a microscopic level, nothing is perfectly smooth; everything is rough, bumpy, jagged. Those jagged edges catch on the jagged edges of other objects, creating resistance to movement.
There are two kinds of friction: static friction and kinetic friction. Static friction is the friction one has to overcome just to get an object to move in the first place, whereas kinetic friction is the resistance present when two objects are already moving against one another. Static friction is always harder to overcome; getting started moving is always the hardest part.
Friction always generates heat as a byproduct - the waste energy of attempting to move two touching objects against each other. The amount of heat is proportional to the amount of friction overcome, like how clapping your hands together and rubbing generates more heat the faster you rub.
When two objects continually touch and move against each other, however, they wear down. Their jagged edges are worn away, and eventually the points at which they touch become smooth.
An object that keeps interacting with lots of other objects around it, like a river rock worn away by the constant rush of water and sand, becomes smooth all over. At that point, the smoothness becomes more than a feature of an interaction between two specific objects, but a feature of the individual object itself; it has little friction with anything. It becomes polished.
These three things - friction, heat, and polish - are features of mechanical systems where objects interact.
Socialization
When two people come into contact (socially), there’s always friction. Their interactions are never absolutely perfect; their brains are never perfectly in sync. Every person has their own rhythms of speech, their own models of the world, their own values and experiences, and those unique features catch on the unique features of the people they interact with, creating resistance to communication.
There are two kinds of social friction: starting an interaction and continuing an existing one. Starting an interaction - especially meeting a new person - is generally harder than continuing an ongoing conversation.
Friction generates awkwardness as a byproduct - the waste energy of attempting to communicate and interact past all the little obstacles, differences, and misunderstandings that occur. The amount of awkwardness is proportional to the amount of friction encountered, like constantly talking when the other person is talking, or broaching the wrong subject at the wrong time and pissing someone off.
When two people continually interact, they get used to each other. They learn each other’s rhythms, beliefs, values, and taboos. The obstacle, differences, and misunderstandings get worn down and their interactions become smooth.
A person that keeps interacting with lots of people around them, over and over again in various situations, becomes smooth not in one conversation or relationship, but in every situation. At that point, the smoothness becomes more than a feature of a single interaction, but a feature of the person themselves; they have little friction with anyone. They become polished.
These three things - friction, awkwardness, and polish - are features of social systems where people interact.
II. Polish
What is polish?
Definition
The best definition I have for polish is this:
If friction is the force resisting ease in social interaction and generating awkwardness, then polish is the skill of minimizing friction.
Like a waxed floor or a river rock, people that are polished are smooth. They don’t chafe to rub against. There’s no resistance to interacting with them. It’s easy.
Furthermore, it’s not just a single point that’s smooth, like the grip of a wooden handle worn down by constant use. Polish means the whole object is that easy to interact with. There are no splinters waiting to strike, no rough patches anywhere.
So what does it look like when someone is polished?
And what does it feel like to be polished?
From The Outside
It’s not that they’re charismatic; they’re not better at swaying anyone to their way of thinking than the average person.
It’s not that they draw attention to themselves; they don’t have to be the center of the conversation or the life of the party.
They’re not friendlier, kindlier, or more cheerful than anyone else.
It’s that they interact easily anywhere, with anyone. They glide in and out of social situations without a hint of difficulty, never rubbing anyone the wrong way.
They seem at ease. Comfortable, no matter where the night takes them. No awkwardness generated with anyone, ever.
They’re not always the life of the party, but they fit in at any party they happen to be at. They’re never a fly in the ointment or a wrench in the gears.
At their table the conversation simply glides along like figure skates on ice, unmoored by anxiety or discomfort.
They are polished, and it shows.
From the Inside
You’ve been here before.
Not at this specific party, not in this specific conversation with these specific people - but a thousand others like them.
You can tell, just from the looks on the faces of the people around you and the way their bodies shift around, when a topic of conversation makes them uncomfortable, and you steer away from it with the seasoned expertise of a grizzled sailor guiding their ship through the reefs.
When people speak, you know exactly how long their words and sentences will take, exactly which breaks in their speech are pauses for breath and which mean that they’re done talking.
You’ve got a sixth sense, honed by endless hours of late night conversations in diners and bars and dorm room stairwells, for when to add to the conversation and when to sit back and let others speak their piece.
Many, many failures have taught you the most tactful ways of disagreeing without bringing the conversation to a halt or making it adversarial. Instead you’ve learned to discern when to make a counterpoint and when to refrain; you can tell when a person is open to dialogue versus when they’ll feel challenged.
You never raise any hackles, and you never let your own hackles be raised. You’re a mirror and a ball of clay in one, fitting any shape the situation demands and reflecting back whatever your companions need at the same time.
You’re never awkward, never in true conflict, never embarrassed or ashamed.
You’re comfortable, relaxed, at ease. Or at the very least you’re very good at projecting that you’re all those things, and that’s all that matters.
III. Becoming Polished
How does one become polished?
The answer is simple, and already referenced above.
A person becomes polished the same way a rock becomes polished: exposure to friction, again and again and again, until the jagged edges have worn away and smooth, gleaming stone is all that remains.
Of course, the weathering of rocks can take place on geological time scales, and humans can hardly afford to wait that long. So how does one become polished in a reasonable amount of time?
When a craftsperson wants to smooth a jagged edge, what do they use?
Sandpaper.
If you want to be polished, you must be sanded down. Your rough edges worn away by the deliberate practice of interaction with other people.
Of course, the process of sanding is slow and tedious, and so is becoming polished, but at least it’s faster than erosion.
Talk to people. Talk to people in all kinds of situations, in all walks of life, in all variations of group size and situation and setting. Go to funerals and weddings and business meetings and parties and after-parties. Have in-depth talks about the meaning of life in college dorm room stairwells. Gossip in the bathroom and by the water cooler and at your cubicle. Host dinner parties and hang outs. Volunteer at open mic nights. Circle around a campfire and tell ghost stories.
If you want, you can practice specific sub-skills, like sanding with a finer grit of sandpaper. Practice talking about difficult subjects without offending people. Practice observing the rhythms of people’s speech, until you can tell in advance when their sentences will end. Practice noticing if they’re fidgeting or looking away, to judge their interest or comfort with the topic.
In the end, you’ll get smoother. More comfortable. Conversation will get easier.
With more experience to draw on, you’ll have a framework for reacting to any situation that might reasonably come up. You’ll be adaptable.
As friction decreases, so will awkwardness. Confidence in yourself and your skills will grow.
Eventually, you’ll find yourself at ease no matter the social situation.
Frictionless.
Polished.