Författare: Alexandra Plakias Associate Professor of Philosophy Hamilton

The holidays offer many opportunities for awkward moments. Political discussions, of course, hold plenty of potential. But any time opinions differ, where estrangements have caused lingering rifts, or when behaviors veer toward the inappropriate, awkwardness can set in.

Awkwardness is what happens in social interactions when you suddenly find yourself without a script to guide you through. Maybe the situation is new or catches you off guard. Maybe you don’t know what’s expected of you, or you aren’t sure what role you’re playing in the social drama around you. It’s characterized by feelings of self-consciousness, uncertainty and discomfort.

As a philosopher who studies moral psychology, I’m interested in awkwardness because I wanted to understand the ways social discomfort stops people from engaging with difficult topics and challenging conversations. Awkwardness seems to inhibit people, even when their moral values suggest they should speak up. But it has a positive role to play, too – it can alert people to areas where their social norms are lacking or outdated.

People often blame themselves when things take a turn toward the awkward. But awkwardness is really a collective failure – people aren’t awkward, situations are. And they become awkward because you don’t have the resources to navigate your way through tricky social situations.

Awkwardness is often confused with embarrassment, but the two are different in important ways, and so are their remedies. Embarrassment is a response to a personal failing or gaffe, and the right response is to acknowledge it, own it and move on. Because awkwardness is caused by a lack of social guidance, you can try to anticipate and head it off before it happens, or you can respond to it by trying to develop better or clearer social scripts to help you – and others – navigate similar situations in the future.

After researching and writing an entire book on awkwardness, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not something we can – or should – avoid altogether. But there are a few strategies people can use to minimize awkwardness and deal with it when it does, inevitably, happen.

1. Know your goals, know your roles

Uncertainty is the oxygen of awkwardness. Before you engage in a potentially awkward or contentious interaction, ask yourself: What do I want to get out of this?

When you’re clear on your goals for the interaction, not only are you better able to perform your role in it, but you’re also giving clearer signals to others, helping them perform their roles in the unfolding social drama.

So, if you’re worried it’ll be awkward when your uncle starts in on his annual political rant, think about what you want the outcome to be. Do you want to convince him he’s wrong? Unlikely to happen. Do you want other family members to feel less anxious? Do you want your own views to be heard?

I’m not suggesting that some forethought will make things go smoothly or guarantee that no one’s feelings will be hurt. But it will help you feel more confident in your ability to navigate toward your desired outcome.

Serving dessert could provide a lifeline to someone looking for a diversion.
Drazen Zigic/iStock via Getty Images Plus

2. There’s no ‘I’ in awkward

Awkward situations breed intense self-consciousness. This is both uncomfortable and counterproductive. By focusing on yourself, you’re not attuned to the people around you or the signals they’re sending – signals that could offer you a pathway out of the awkward situation. So make sure you’re paying attention to the other players in the drama, not just your own discomfort.

3. Plan, coordinate and be explicit

People do so much planning in other areas of their lives, yet they expect social interactions to just flow effortlessly. But like a vacation or a hike in the woods, sometimes a conversation goes better when you approach it with a map. Have some go-to topics or questions at hand.

And you don’t have to go it alone. If you’re worried about broaching a sensitive topic, or interacting with a particularly prickly guest, coordinate with a friend or relative.

If you expect to see someone with whom you have an unresolved relationship – an estranged family member, an old friend you ghosted – try to do some prep work in advance. Emails or letters can give people a chance to process reactions without putting them on the spot.

Even having a scripted activity on deck can make things less awkward. It doesn’t have to be anything formal, like a board game. Just keep some tasks available for guests who might otherwise lurk uncomfortably – like shaking up the salad dressing or putting forks on the table.

4. Laugh it off

If, despite your best efforts, awkwardness does strike, offer people a way out – they’ll probably grab it. This doesn’t need to be momentous; it could be a little joke, a small-talk topic, or even – and only if things get very desperate – knocking a spoon off the table to break the silence.

5. Consider the alternatives

These strategies might help you avoid awkwardness. But take a moment to consider whether you really want to. Awkwardness is the result of social uncertainty; it slows things down and curbs your confidence.

In its absence, other emotions can set in. Having things out in the open can be a relief, but it can also lead to anger, sadness and other feelings that might best be saved for another occasion.

So if things are awkward, it’s worth looking around to see what role that awkwardness is playing, and what might take its place if it’s gone. Läs mer…

What will the diets of the future look like? The answer depends in part on what foods Westerners can be persuaded to eat.

These consumers are increasingly being told their diets need to change. Current eating habits are unsustainable, and the global demand for meat is growing.

Recent years have seen increased interest and investment in what are called alternative proteins – products that can replace typical meats with more sustainable alternatives. One option is cultivated, or cultured, meat and seafood: muscle tissue grown in labs in bioreactors, using animal stem cells. Another approach involves replacing standard meat with such options as insects or plant-based imitation meats. All of these products promise a more sustainable alternative to factory-farmed meat. The question is, will consumers accept them?

I’m a philosopher who studies food and disgust, and I’m interested in how people react to new foods such as lab-grown meat, bugs and other so-called alternative proteins. Disgust and food neophobia – a fear of new foods – are often cited as obstacles to adopting new, more sustainable food choices, but I believe that recent history offers a more complicated picture. Past shifts in food habits suggest there are two paths to the adoption of new foods: One relies on familiarity and safety, the other on novelty and excitement.

Disgust and the yuck factor

Disgust is a strong feeling of revulsion in response to objects perceived to be contaminating, polluting or unclean. Scientists believe that it evolved to protect human beings from invisible contaminants such as pathogens and parasites. Some causes of disgust are widely shared, such as feces or vomit. Others, including foods, are more culturally variable.

So it’s not surprising that self-reported willingness to eat insects varies across nationalities. Insects have been an important part of traditional diets of cultures around the world for thousands of years, including the ancient Greeks.

Many articles about the possibility of introducing insects to Western or American diners have emphasized the challenges posed by neophobia and “the yuck factor.” People won’t accept these new foods, the thinking goes, because they’re too different or even downright disgusting.

If that’s right, then the best approach to win space on the plate for new foods might be to try to make them seem similar to familiar menu items.

The safe route to food acceptance

During World War II, the government worked to make it seem patriotic to not pig out on the usual meat.
U.S. National Archives/Flickr, CC BY

During World War II, the United States government wanted to redirect its limited meat supply to troops on the front lines. So it needed to convince home cooks to give up their steaks, chops and roasts in favor of what it called variety meats: kidneys, liver, tongue and so on.

To figure out how to shift consumer habits, a team of psychologists and anthropologists was charged with studying how food habits and preferences were formed – and how they could be changed.

The Committee on Food Habits recommended stressing these organ meats’ similarity to available, familiar, existing foods. This approach – call it the “safe route” – focuses on individual attitudes and choices. It tries to remove psychological and practical barriers to individual choice and counteracts beliefs or values that might dissuade people from adopting new foods.

As the name suggests, the safe route tries to downplay novelty, using familiar forms and tastes. For example, it would incorporate unfamiliar cuts of meats into meatloaf or meatballs or grind crickets into flour for cookies or protein bars.

The sushi route

But more recent history suggests something different: Foods such as sushi, offal and even lobster became desirable not despite but because of their novelty and difference.

Sushi’s arrival in the postwar U.S. coincided with the rise of consumer culture. Dining out was gaining traction as a leisure activity, and people were increasingly open to new experiences as a sign of status and sophistication. Rather than appealing to the housewife preparing comfort foods, sushi gained popularity by appealing to the desire for new and exciting experiences.

By 1966, The New York Times reported that New Yorkers were dining on “raw fish dishes, sushi and sashimi, with a gusto once reserved for corn flakes.” Now, of course, sushi is widely consumed, available even in grocery stores nationwide. In fact, the grocery chain Kroger sells more than 40 million pieces of sushi a year. Whereas the safe route suggests sneaking new foods into our diets, the sushi route suggests embracing their novelty and using that as a selling point.

Sushi is just one example of a food adopted via this route. After the turn of the millennium, a new generation of diners rediscovered offal as high-end restaurants and chefs offered “nose to tail” dining. Rather than positioning foods like tongue and pigs’ ears as familiar and comforting, a willingness to embrace the yuck factor became a sign of adventurousness, even masculinity. This framing is the exact opposite of the safe route recommended by the Committee on Food Habits.

Mexico is one place that has a centuries-old tradition of eating some insects.
AP Photo/Dario Lopez-Mills

The future of alternative proteins

What lessons can be drawn from these examples? For dietary shifts to last, they should be framed positively. Persuading customers that variety meats were a necessary wartime substitution worked temporarily but ultimately led to the perception that they were subpar choices. If cultivated meat and insects are pitched as necessary sacrifices, any gains they make may be temporary at best.

Instead, producers could appeal to consumers’ desire for healthier, more sustainable and more exciting foods.

Cultivated meat may be “safe-ly” marketed as nuggets and burgers, but, in principle, the options are endless: Curious consumers could sample lab-grown whale or turtle meat guilt-free, or even find out what woolly mammoth tasted like.

Ultimately, the chefs, consumers and entrepreneurs seeking to remake our food systems don’t need to choose just one route. While we can grind insects into protein powders, we can also look to chefs cooking traditional cuisines that use insects to broaden our culinary horizons. Läs mer…