"How's it going?" "Good, you?" "Good." You've had this exchange a thousand times. You'll have it a thousand more. It means nothing, reveals nothing, and yet it's required. Skipping it would be strange.

Small talk is supposed to be easy. It's the lightest form of human interaction. But for many people, it feels like work. The repetition, the performance, the effort of seeming engaged when discussing nothing, all of it drains energy that shouldn't need spending.

If small talk exhausts you, you're not antisocial. The modern version of casual conversation has become genuinely tiring.

The Problem People Keep Running Into

Small talk requires performance. You can't just speak; you have to modulate your voice, arrange your face, and project appropriate interest. "Fine, thanks," has to sound like you mean it, even when you're tired, distracted, or just not in the mood.

The topics are repetitive by design. Weather, weekends, general wellness, these are safe precisely because they're shallow. But shallow means boring. And boring, repeated hundreds of times, becomes draining.

There's also the calculation of how much to share. Too little seems cold. Too much violates the unwritten rules of casual exchange. Finding the right middle ground takes effort that adds up.

How Modern Systems Created This

Small talk isn't new, but modern life has changed its context:

We interact with more strangers. Urban environments and service economies mean encountering dozens of people daily who require social acknowledgment. Each interaction is small, but they accumulate.

Scripts have solidified. The responses are so standardized that they feel meaningless. "How are you?" stopped being a question long ago. The ritual continues, but the content has emptied out.

Authenticity expectations increased. We're told to "be genuine" and "bring your whole self" everywhere. But small talk is inherently not genuine. The gap between how we're supposed to interact and how we actually feel creates dissonance.

Social energy is already spent. Managing digital communications, work interactions, and personal relationships consumes social bandwidth. By the time you reach the elevator chat, you're running on empty.

Why It Keeps Getting Worse

Remote work and reduced in-person contact have made small talk feel less practiced. Skills that were automatic now require conscious effort. The rustiness makes it harder than it used to be.

Social anxiety has become more openly discussed, making people more aware of the discomfort they feel. What once seemed like normal interaction now gets labeled and analyzed. Awareness doesn't always help.

The contrast with online communication makes in-person chat feel slow. Online, you can think before responding. In person, pauses are awkward. The speed of real-time conversation is more demanding.

And the same conversations repeat endlessly. The same questions in every meeting, every encounter, every event. The lack of novelty makes engagement difficult to sustain.

How People Cope Today

Many people develop scripts. Standard answers, ready topics, reliable responses that reduce the mental load. The conversation becomes almost automated, which helps but feels hollow.

Some minimize opportunities for small talk. Headphones become shields. Taking stairs avoids elevator chat. Strategic timing prevents kitchen overlap. These avoidance strategies work but can isolate.

Others push past the small talk as quickly as possible, steering toward topics with actual substance. This takes social skill but leads to more satisfying interactions when it works.

The exhaustion of small talk reflects a broader tension between social expectations and limited energy. We're expected to be available, friendly, and engaged in every interaction, but human capacity for social performance isn't infinite. The emptiness of casual conversation becomes more obvious as we have less energy to spare for it.