In the current economic downturn, people’s need for social interaction is more urgent than ever, yet they often feel more awkward about it than in the past.
To avoid hurt and for self-protection, many have developed methodologies around maintaining distance. They shy away from workplace politics and forgo the sweetness of romantic relationships, instead pouring all their energy into friendships and other connections to construct an idealized version of intimacy.
This signifies a subtle shift in interpersonal relationships within human society, driven by economic and technological progress.
It’s akin to a group of people about to enter an amusement park, clutching their tickets with anticipation for a beautiful new world, yet fluctuating between wonder, apprehension, and longing. While everything seems worth trying, there’s no solid ground to stand on.
In China, where the average workweek spans 48.26 hours, the office is often the place we spend the most time outside of our homes.
Consequently, some individuals strive to make their workspaces as warm and home-like as possible. Others, however, find life too mundane. They endeavor to self-hypnotize, mentally transforming their companies into the horror film setting of “A Quiet Place.”
In this film’s world, monsters are blind but possess acute hearing. Therefore, for humans to survive, they must remain as silent as possible.
Now, this pervasive sense of dread is materializing in the most unexpected of places—the office. Those who resent their jobs envision themselves as survivors of an apocalypse, with their bosses and colleagues as the sound-sensitive monsters.
The most effective survival strategy is to remain silent.
By now, you may have encountered individuals like these.
On the surface, they appear normal, but in private, they refer to themselves as adherents of the “Mute Cult.” Every morning, upon settling at their desks, the first act of these devout followers is to recite their cult’s tenets: “May the holy fire shine bright, may the mute be revered; all of us, humble and devout.”
After this ritual, the faithful engage in their daily work aspirations through methods like copy-pasting text and posting online. The truly pious might even add a prayer for mindful manifestation: “Always remember, you are a wealthy, beautiful woman not lacking in money.”
This collective resentment towards the workplace has coalesced into a new set of unspoken rules, a “rule怪谈” (a term implying a strange or unsettling narrative of rules):
When within company premises, only discuss work-related matters. Avoid any discussion of people or events unrelated to work; minimize non-work-related conversations.
If conversation is unavoidable, keep it brief and superficial. Share minimal personal details to maintain an air of mystery. Avoid initiating conversations before others speak. For matters unrelated to your work, feign ignorance while maintaining a friendly demeanor. When faced with tasks you wish to avoid, directly refuse your peers and clearly state your position to superiors. Speak and work deliberately, at a slow pace. Frequently engage in “摸鱼” (slacking off) during work hours, keeping your keyboard active. Practice efficient arrivals and departures, arriving precisely on time and leaving exactly when scheduled. Most importantly: do not try to “save” or “enlighten” others.
In essence, the moment you step past the company threshold, your mouth becomes the most superfluous of your senses.
The gesture of “shushing,” as seen in the popular Chinese drama “Empresses in the Palace” (甄嬛传), has become a symbol of rebellion for this group. On one hand, it’s a fitting physical gesture, touching one’s lips with a finger. On the other, it represents a collective desire to embody the character Zhen Huan in the workplace: maintaining an impassive expression and concealing one’s true intentions.
Just as Zhen Huan, kneeling under the snow, vowed, “This believer wishes to eat only vegetarian food her entire life,” the sincerity of those posting “silence” is even greater. Some are new entrants to this silent creed, while others have been adherents for over two years.
As the old saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Before the workplace, netizens in the comments section find solidarity, devoid of any hierarchy. Whoever passes by feels compelled to critique the company and leave a simple “check-in” comment.
If the office is “A Quiet Place,” then mobile apps that allow friends to share their locations have become the digital equivalent of “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (a classic 1980s horror film where the protagonist Freddy Krueger can precisely locate his victims in their dreams) in a “teen mode.”
Following the release of iOS 15, the live location sharing feature within Apple’s Find My functionality became widely known and utilized. Apple explicitly stated its purpose was to provide “real-time speed, direction, and progress” when users view someone’s location.
This function, originally designed for device tracking like iPads or phones, has been repurposed for real-time human tracking.
In an era where smartphones are ubiquitous, built-in location sharing features are akin to the green cones above the heads of Sims characters in “The Sims.” This capability is so potent that you can see the directional movement, and even the speed of every person you’re connected with, at any given moment.
Consequently, your close friends might transform into personalized GPS-guided characters, much like the “traveling frogs” in a popular mobile game. If you encounter someone with a particularly inquisitive nature, you might frequently receive messages like, “Where are you off to?”
While my peers born in the 90s generally find this intrusive and “a bit off-putting,” younger generations, especially Gen Z, have embraced location sharing as a new form of social connection.
According to a recent study by Civic Science, approximately 65% of Gen Z individuals use location sharing, with 16% sharing their location with at least five other people.
For young people, sharing their location with friends is considered “cooler” than sharing it with family. Following this trend, Instagram has also recently introduced a live location map feature, enabling users to share their whereabouts with friends at any time.
Essentially, this feature functions much like the Marauder’s Map in Harry Potter, allowing indirect communication. However, one’s location can reveal a wealth of information, carrying different implications for different people.
For instance, one young woman states, “I always share my real-time location with my close girlfriends, and it provides a great sense of security.” Individuals who enjoy cycling find it “fun to constantly share their location with fellow cyclists.”
However, many others perceive it as an unsettling experience, finding it “creepy” to be constantly monitored, even if location sharing on other platforms for periods is considered normal.
You might also notice that among today’s youth, “sharing” has become a way to express intimacy.
Beyond location sharing, sharing photo albums, daily lives, and even friends have become prevalent cultural phenomena.
Conversely, in romantic relationships, where trust is expected to be higher, people’s vigilance seems to skyrocket as intimacy deepens.
In the narrative of horror films, some individuals in relationships resemble vengeful figures. The privacy they freely share with friends can become taboo topics with their partners.
For instance, consider the aforementioned location sharing. When shared by a couple, it often leads to a sharp divergence of opinions. Some agree to enable it, citing trust, while others refuse for various reasons.
This same concept of boundary-setting extends to more formal arrangements. For example, some couples enter into formal contracts before initiating a relationship, often referred to as “relationship agreements.”
The rationale behind such agreements is straightforward: in an era saturated with PDF documents, some individuals perceive romantic gestures like financial transfers and gift-giving as minor asset transfers.
Fearing that they might end up as debtors after a breakup, they opt for more formal documentation than verbal agreements or notes of “gratuitous gift.”
Contracts similar to the one illustrated below serve as a form of protection for such assets or personal interests.
When searching for relationship content on social media, the most popular results are no longer sweet vlogs. Questions beginning with “how” and “what” have become key triggers in discussions about romantic relationships.
Topics like “relationship formulas,” “reasons for a healthy relationship,” “detailed relationship needs lists,” and “relationship tips” on platforms like Xiaohongshu (Little Red Book) are so comprehensive that they serve as authoritative guides for single individuals, much like official political study materials.
The true weight of love in these relationships is something only the individuals involved can truly comprehend.
The three new forms of intimate relationships described above might seem baffling to many. In the workplace, where communication is paramount, people now choose silence. Among friends, who are expected to maintain distance, privacy is shared. And in romantic relationships, intimacy is measured through contracts and reports.
The rapid evolution of societal norms makes it challenging to evaluate present relationships through past perspectives.
These emerging forms of intimacy are proliferating, and one might aptly call this era — the Age of Grand Disruption.
So, how did these phenomena arise?
Young people’s enthusiasm for engaging in “novelties” within relationships signifies a detachment from traditional social models. This stems from a profound realization that workplace interactions, romantic pursuits, and everyday social engagements all carry significant burdens and risks.
When reality becomes distorted, behavior often becomes abstract. Behind every seemingly bizarre action lies a complex set of underlying reasons.
Perhaps not everyone is highly vigilant, but the palpable coldness in interactions with those around them is a shared experience for many.
When some attempt to pinpoint the source of this perceived coldness, they often attribute it primarily to generational differences.
One individual born in the 1990s observes that the most pronounced “coldness” occurs in conversations with those born in the 2000s.
They believe that this is due to the latter’s extensive use of the internet and their preference for digital interactions. Consequently, when engaging in real-world conversations, these individuals are perceived as no different from interacting with a mobile device – “like watching a black-and-white film.”
However, from a temporal perspective, the social distancing observed among Gen Z is not necessarily a conscious choice. Instead, it’s because they have never experienced the “proper” social interactions as conceived by previous generations.
Consider that the start of the pandemic coincided with the time the first cohort of Gen Z transitioned from the confines of high school to university. This meant that immediately after leaving the structure of compulsory education, they were thrust into another extended period of confinement.
During these formative years of entering society, this group spent their time in isolation. This lack of time and space for external engagement effectively stifled the natural development of their social personalities and sensitivities from their inception.
In this environment, a “Gen Z gaze” is an inevitable outcome.
Consequently, as this new generation enters the workforce, their learning and social skills are only just beginning to awaken. Although they have moved past the “ice age,” Gen Z will always be separated from previous generations by an unbridgeable chasm.
For those who experienced periods of economic growth, the disparities between them and this younger generation are striking. This is what leads to the “stereotypes” of students who lived through the pandemic era.
Society often overlooks the intricate processes of human formation.
Amidst a progressively severe employment crisis, companies have little patience for employee development and instead prefer “pre-made talents.” Therefore, the workplace challenges faced by this generation are arguably unprecedented in their severity.
Beyond the inherent disadvantages imposed by generational differences, information overload has also become a compensatory mechanism for intimacy.
In the digital age, information is the true currency of faith. Gen Z and subsequent generations, nurtured by the internet, increasingly rely on tangible markers like tags and notifications as measures of worth.
Both social media and public discourse are steering towards the notion that “a difference in informational understanding is the original sin of contemporary life.” The algorithmic echo chambers fostered by recommendation systems have become the norm.
Consequently, if this perspective is applied to interpersonal narratives, it’s natural to assume that the quantity of information exchanged between individuals is directly proportional to their level of intimacy.
Under the pressures of life, everyone experiences an overwhelming urge to express themselves. Portable electronic devices allow for constant output anytime, anywhere. This proliferation of information, however, dilutes the intensity of emotions.
True communication, however, is about one-on-one mutual understanding and exchange of perspectives. Merely dumping information onto others is like them passively consuming content while scrolling through videos.
This lack of resonance, rather than an overabundance of information, is the primary reason for the widespread feeling of diminished intimacy.
The most rudimentary solution remains silence.
Everyone desires to be understood by the person they are conversing with. When they discover they are not being empathized with, they often resort to expressing themselves more prolifically.
However, the initial existing gap cannot be easily bridged solely through an accumulation of words.
The communication barriers in the workplace and in intimate relationships arise precisely from this. From silent concessions to calculating gains and losses in relationships based on an “emotional Excel spreadsheet” – in the face of self-interest, most individuals prioritize self-preservation, leading to a gradual internal closure.
In such an atmosphere, the role of friends becomes particularly significant. As individuals relatively detached from direct self-interest, friends are often perceived as the safest haven within multifaceted social relationships.
Of course, friends are not entirely free from competition or resource overlap. However, in the absence of direct competitive scenarios, friendship often resembles parallel lines that occasionally intersect – synchronized in frequency but existing on different planes.
Therefore, even when sharing more information, or even revealing one’s darker thoughts, it typically does not result in immediate, severe repercussions in real life.
It is precisely this controllable risk that allows what were once loosely defined friendships to become one of the most reliable forms of support today.
The contraction of social spaces is not solely a unique reality for young people but a challenge faced by all age groups.
Individuals in their 70s recall a time of communal living and shared meals at neighbors’ homes with an intimacy akin to family. Those in their 30s often reminisce about the loyalty that inspired them to go to great lengths for friends.
However, such scenarios have now become mere memories. Urban planning in modern cities has diminished the communal bonds once found in large residential compounds, and even romantic relationships now involve an assessment of mutual financial compatibility.
In an era where social density is as thin as water, everyone is surrounded by a soft yet firm membrane. Maintaining a polite sense of personal space is the foundation of contemporary social interaction.
While some may view this detached atmosphere as a unique East Asian cultural trait, the situation is equally dire internationally.
For instance, on Reddit, people frequently lament the awkwardness of office socialization. Discussions about how to maintain polite quietude in the workplace and how to politely explain one’s sudden disappearance after work hours are topics where users eagerly share strategies.
“I just say I lost my phone.”
“I gave them an old rotary phone number and an answering machine, so they can leave a voice message when they try to reach me.”
“This isn’t stipulated in the contract.”
The underlying reason for these phenomena is a perennial one: economic decline.
Marking the pandemic as a turning point, global development experienced a hiatus akin to an ice age. Consequently, both personal sentiments and the emotions conveyed on social media indicate that pessimism about the future is becoming the norm.
A foreign institution conducted an attitude survey in China. They discovered that people are no longer confident in their future prospects. In 2004, approximately 60% believed their lives would improve, a figure that dropped to 38.8% in 2023. Only 28.3% believed their efforts would be rewarded.
Globally, similar sentiments are even more pronounced. According to a new survey by the Pew Research Center, Americans are generally pessimistic about the nation’s future across various aspects. Notably, a significant 63% express pessimism regarding moral and ethical standards, while 59% hold a less optimistic view of the education system.
Precisely because life is not going as well as it could, people are exhibiting a strong sense of nostalgia. In 2023, IPSOS published a global poll indicating that 60% of respondents wished the world would return to its former state.
Regardless of the evolving systems and environments around us, people’s interaction patterns with those close to them seem permanently frozen in a state of detachment.
Facing an unchangeable environment, burying one’s head in the sand like an ostrich is a common compromise. We rely on the isolation established in our interactions with colleagues and romantic partners for self-protection, while simultaneously seeking momentary respite through conversations with close friends.
Unable to find solace in relationships entangled with self-interest, people increasingly desire to satisfy both their need for expression and their emotional needs through friendships. However, when expectations are too high and one appears too eager, the opposite effect is often achieved.
In a recent article published by The Independent, a Gen Z individual confessed to sharing her location with 30 people, which had become a source of anxiety: “I’m not particularly close with most of them, but removing them feels too awkward, like a one-sided severing of friendship.”
Whether it’s the wariness in the workplace or the “possessiveness” towards friends, these behaviors are unintentional constraints. If these rules are continuously followed without genuine inner feeling, both external observers and oneself will experience a new form of alienation.

Anthropologist Xiang Biao once pointed out that “proximity” refers to the living spaces where people of different stances and backgrounds frequently encounter each other in their daily lives.
He argued that strangers are not people you don’t know, but people you choose not to know. The current tendency for people to actively distance themselves from one another is precisely what makes society cold. It fosters modern loneliness, creating a disconnect between individuals and their immediate surroundings, and even the wider world.
Under these developmental trends, an invisible filter is formed around each person, leading to the “disappearance of proximity.”
Currently, in the pursuit of sufficient stability, everyone prefers to retreat into their shells. We complain about the coldness of our environment, yet we still hesitate to be the first to lower our guard with those around us. This contradiction is what fuels the various abstract stories prevalent on social media today.
Popular phenomena are products of their time. We are immersed in this tide, unable to escape the environment autonomously. Judging current phenomena solely from a historical or futureistic perspective is unlikely to encompass the prevailing sentiments of the present.
It is not dissimilar to what Charles Dickens wrote in “A Tale of Two Cities”:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… We are all simply a part of this new era, and where the future will lead us, no one truly knows.”