Rambling on about eye contact, small talk, and the extinction of people skills…

It happened slowly, which is probably why we almost missed it. Basic skills did not vanish with a dramatic puff of smoke or a tiny violin playing in the background. They slipped out the side door while we were all looking down at our phones.

As I have grown older, I have noticed it more and more. At first, when I brought it up, it was easy to dismiss. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe this was just the natural evolution of the world. Maybe every generation reaches a certain age and starts saying things like, “Back in my day,” right before complaining about music, manners, and the price of a cheeseburger.

But I do not think it is only nostalgia talking anymore. I think we are watching something real happen. Technology has changed our lives in brilliant, convenient, astonishing ways. It has also quietly trained us to avoid the very skills that once helped us understand each other.

There was a time when people had to talk because there was no other option. You called someone’s house and risked a parent answering. You stood in line and made small talk because staring into space was the only available app. You introduced yourself, shook hands, read the room, survived awkward pauses, and learned how to recover when a conversation went sideways.

Now, so much of that practice has been replaced by screens. We text instead of call. We scroll instead of notice. We send a reaction emoji instead of a sentence. We can be “connected” to hundreds of people and still struggle to look one person in the eye across a dinner table.

The result is not just that conversations feel different. It is that many people seem genuinely uncomfortable with them. Technology did not steal our people skills in one grand heist. It offered convenience, and we accepted it gladly. Honestly, who among us has not been relieved to send a quick message instead of making an actual phone call? The problem is that convenience can become avoidance when we use it too often.

Face-to-face communication asks more of us. It requires attention, patience, tone, timing, facial expressions, body language, listening, and sometimes the terrifying ability to say, “I don’t know,” without immediately Googling backup. These are not tiny decorative skills. They are the nuts and bolts of trust, empathy, leadership, friendship, family, and community.

We are losing the art of beginning a conversation without needing a script. We are losing the courage to sit in silence without panicking. We are losing the ability to disagree without turning a person into an enemy. We are losing the habit of listening to understand rather than waiting for our turn to unload a prewritten opinion. We are losing connection. The ability to understand emotion, to share real feeling.

We are also losing ordinary moments. The quick check-in. The neighborly wave. The conversation with the cashier. The family story told again for the fifteenth time but still worth hearing because someone we love is the one telling it. These small exchanges may not look important on a calendar, but they are the threads that keep people from feeling invisible.

The irony is that we have more tools for communication than ever before and, in some ways, less confidence communicating. We can broadcast a thought to the world in seconds, but struggle to sit across from someone and say what we really mean. We can curate an image of ourselves online, but stumble through the wonderfully messy work of being known in person.

Maybe considering them “basic skills” made us underestimate them. People skills are not basic because they are simple. They are basic because they are foundational. They hold up everything else. A person who can communicate well can comfort, persuade, apologize, collaborate, teach, lead, listen, and repair. A person who cannot communicate well may still be brilliant, talented, and technically skilled, but will often find themselves isolated in rooms full of people. This is not just about manners. It is about connection. It is about whether we still know how to notice each other when life does not come with a notification sound.

The good news is that extinct may be too strong a word. Maybe these skills are not gone. Maybe they are endangered, hiding somewhere between voicemail anxiety and the group chat nobody answers.

We can practice again. We can put the phone down at the table. We can call instead of text once in a while, and make a date to actually see each other. We can ask better questions and let people answer without rushing them. We can teach younger generations that being able to speak kindly, listen fully, and handle discomfort is not old-fashioned. It is human.

Technology is not the villain. It is a tool. But if we seem to be letting  the tool replace the human. So maybe the challenge is simple, even if it is not easy. We can look up, speak kindly, listen longer, and remember that some of the most important things we will ever say cannot be reduced to a thumbs-up icon and emotions are not smiley faces with varied faces.