Caring for your Introvert – by Jonathan Rauch

Recently, I have been around people. A lot. Much more than I would ever voluntarily prescribe to myself. That is why I have felt a unceasing, nagging almost, urge to write about what it means to be an introvert, how it is “not a deviation from standard, but a different kind of normal.” And especially why you (well, some of you) extroverts should stop thinking that dragging me into social events and out of my own little dark world is a generous act.

But after just 10 lines into this article Caring for your Introvert, by Jonathan Rauch, posted on the Atlantic, I knew I would not do any better than this Introvert Manifesto here. I rest assured that I am not the only one (which is naturally harder for us  introverts to find out) and that I need not change or even apologize. The revelation feels absolutely empowering, especially when my conviction, egoistically strong as it is, starts witnessing its erosion after barrages of concerned looks, and under the dominion of an (extrovert) definition of success.

So I cannot resist reposting it here, even though I am quite sure I must be violating copyrights of one sort or another. May I dare hope, that by the end of this article, you will understand why I don’t like to be with people does not mean I don’t like people, and why “own little dark world” is not at all a bad place. For your information, some actually like it.

I know I do.


Caring for your Introvert

– The habits and needs of a little-understood group
– by Jonathan Rauch, on the Atlantic

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is “too serious,” or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren’t caring for him properly. Science has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people (I am not making this up). If you are behind the curve on this important matter, be reassured that you are not alone. Introverts may be common, but they are also among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America, possibly the world.

I know. My name is Jonathan, and I am an introvert.

Oh, for years I denied it. After all, I have good social skills. I am not morose or misanthropic. Usually. I am far from shy. I love long conversations that explore intimate thoughts or passionate interests. But at last I have self-identified and come out to my friends and colleagues. In doing so, I have found myself liberated from any number of damaging misconceptions and stereotypes. Now I am here to tell you what you need to know in order to respond sensitively and supportively to your own introverted family members, friends, and colleagues. Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts. It pays to learn the warning signs.

What is introversion? In its modern sense, the concept goes back to the 1920s and the psychologist Carl Jung. Today it is a mainstay of personality tests, including the widely used Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not. Introverts are also not misanthropic, though some of us do go along with Sartre as far as to say “Hell is other people at breakfast.” Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.

Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially “on,” we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn’t antisocial. It isn’t a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: “I’m okay, you’re okay—in small doses.”

How many people are introverts? I performed exhaustive research on this question, in the form of a quick Google search. The answer: About 25 percent. Or: Just under half. Or—my favorite—”a minority in the regular population but a majority in the gifted population.”

Are introverts misunderstood? Wildly. That, it appears, is our lot in life. “It is very difficult for an extrovert to understand an introvert,” write the education experts Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig. (They are also the source of the quotation in the previous paragraph.) Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping.

Are introverts oppressed? I would have to say so. For one thing, extroverts are overrepresented in politics, a profession in which only the garrulous are really comfortable. Look at George W. Bush. Look at Bill Clinton. They seem to come fully to life only around other people. To think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics—Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon—is merely to drive home the point. With the possible exception of Ronald Reagan, whose fabled aloofness and privateness were probably signs of a deep introverted streak (many actors, I’ve read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors), introverts are not considered “naturals” in politics.

Extroverts therefore dominate public life. This is a pity. If we introverts ran the world, it would no doubt be a calmer, saner, more peaceful sort of place. As Coolidge is supposed to have said, “Don’t you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?” (He is also supposed to have said, “If you don’t say anything, you won’t be called on to repeat it.” The only thing a true introvert dislikes more than talking about himself is repeating himself.)

With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. “People person” is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like “guarded,” “loner,” “reserved,” “taciturn,” “self-contained,” “private”—narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.

Are introverts arrogant? Hardly. I suppose this common misconception has to do with our being more intelligent, more reflective, more independent, more level-headed, more refined, and more sensitive than extroverts. Also, it is probably due to our lack of small talk, a lack that extroverts often mistake for disdain. We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking, which is why their meetings never last less than six hours. “Introverts,” writes a perceptive fellow named Thomas P. Crouser, in an online review of a recent book called Why Should Extroverts Make All the Money? (I’m not making that up, either), “are driven to distraction by the semi-internal dialogue extroverts tend to conduct. Introverts don’t outwardly complain, instead roll their eyes and silently curse the darkness.” Just so.

The worst of it is that extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books—written, no doubt, by extroverts—regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts’ Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say “I’m an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush.”

How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice? First, recognize that it’s not a choice. It’s not a lifestyle. It’s an orientation.

Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don’t say “What’s the matter?” or “Are you all right?”

Third, don’t say anything else, either.


The above piece turns out to be a wild success (and deservingly so.) It has drawn (and has continued to draw) more traffic than any posts ever written on The Atlantic. It seems that there are more introverts than we think, and they are *dramatic pause* among our midst. So The Atlantic conducted a follow-up interview with Jonathan, and posted a selective sample from readers’ responses to the question “In looking for a mate, are introverts better off pairing up with extroverts or with fellow introverts?” And finally, reader’s responses to the post itself, ranging from pure joy of self-discovery and acceptance, to witty tricks to survive in this extrovertist jungle.

  1. I was thinking about writing something on how American college culture over-emphasizes the important of “socializing”. Care to shed some opinions?
    P/S: I want to talk. I need some rationality again. And by that you clearly know what this is referring to. Urgent code.

    • anhqle said:

      That would be a great topic to mull over. Being an introvert in US college is bound to be a peculiar experience. The fact that most introverts are not aware of their introversion, let alone understood by others, adds another layer of guilt, self-denial, and double-identity. Were everyone to comprehend exactly what introversion is, it would have been just another you-against-the-norm epic, which is so worn out that I have by now classified it as just another norm.

      So I have my mind on this topic as well – On Being A College Introvert. The good thing is that I have a lot to say; the bad is that they are not in a particularly organized manner. Things that range from how it feels to be an introvert in college, how do you even know – let alone accept – that you are an introvert, to what to do in college that does not involve fake smile and feigned interest.

      That’s a lot of work for which I have not found the time yet. Well, as I once told you, time is the lamest excuse – were inspiration to come and seize me per force, time would not be even listed as a remote concern.

      Anyway, I do feel obligated to write about this – probably out of dutiful indignation against the loudly speaking folks at VA Conference, whose talk on “college life” is stifled with the narrowmindedness so often seen in the dominators.

      Hopefully we will see something soon.

  2. HK said:

    Just my humble opinion, I don’t think American colleges overemphasize social life that much, or not as badly as you perceive it to be. From my experience thus far, socializing is still a personal choice, I either want to go out and party or don’t, and I know people in college do respect that choice I make. As you said above, this isn’t anti-social. I don’t see how being an introvert in US college can be more peculiar than elsewhere. I would do the same thing were I to study abroad in some other country or even at home.

    Or perhaps I just hate labels. Introversion, after all, is not a disease, and most definitely not a straightforward answer to a person’s personality.

    Please do write further about this.

    • anhqle said:

      Of course people are going to respect your choice. Americans will even respect your choice of bringing gun into bars, or of maintaining your own family militia – your refusing to go to party would seem very well within their reasonable tolerance.

      But that they don’t try to dictate your life does not mean that they don’t have an opinion on how you should lead your life – especially in colleges, they do, and the verdict says college is about going out, meeting people, and being cheerful. Consider the methodologically common invitation: “It’s gonna be fun. A lot of people are gonna be there.”

      And imagine that American fun gathering: you are expected to shake hands a lot, smile a lot, and talk a lot. Small talk is both overrated and oversupplied. Five minutes of contemplative silence is an immediate magnet for concerned looks and inquiries. Five seconds of conversational gap is an urgent call for chit-chatty fillers. And if you do decide to converse, hoping to spare yourself such “thoughtfulness”, you will immediately see yourself gasping for air amidst all the minutiae that an American so eagerly supply about his life.

      And the primacy of networking for jobs leverages those gatherings over your feeling – your being uncomfortable with them is your fault, not theirs.

      Things would be much simpler were everyone to understand what introversion is – then the introvert would not have to (mistakenly) worry about his being misanthropic, his missing out on things, his not succeeding in life, and the extrovert would not have to (vainly) attempt to cheer up, drag out, care for his silent partner. However, scarcely understood, introversion does seem symptomatic of mental ills.

      All of these, of course, can happen any where else, our own home included. But there’s something about the American high regard for small talk, openness, and chattiness that makes things one degree harder for those that stray from those social standards. Especially in college, when a life not social is a life not worth living.

  3. ” I don’t see how being an introvert in US college can be more peculiar than elsewhere. I would do the same thing were I to study abroad in some other country or even at home.”
    to aim cai nay at US college vi no co culture la song o trong dorm, va gan nhu moi hoat dong so-called “socialize” dien ra trong dorm. vi cai close (physical) proximity nay nen kha nang 1 introvert bi judge cao hon la khi ay song rieng ngoai apartment.

    hon nua HK nen nho’ la ban. song o city, social life trong college cua ban khac bon minh song o nong thon 😀

    • anhqle said:

      ừ nhỉ 😕 cái blasé attitude (từ chuyên cho indifference :”>) của urbanites hóa ra lại vô tình cho mỗi cá nhân nhiều cơ hội để sống kiểu của mình hơn. Kiểu ở nông thôn, judge thì đã nhuốm màu negative rồi, chứ thật ra chỉ cần người ta hỏi han, hoàn toàn do thoughtfulness, cũng đã awkward rồi 8-|

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: