Words matter: Continuing to call for ”Social distancing” might make matters worse

As New York City enters phase 1 of 4 phases in “re-opening for business,” and people emerge out of pandemic isolation, the delicate balance between the “new normal” and the risk for infection spikes rests gravely on following rules including about masks, hygienics, and distancing. 

Certainly, distance between people is critical since the coronavirus is transmitted by close contact that exchanges respiratory droplets. 

Use of the term “social distancing” is widespread. It’s been spoken publicly by many pundits, reporters, organizations, city and state public service announcements (PSAs), AT&T, TV show promotions (e.g., for Marriage Boot Camp) and even health experts like U.S. National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases Director Dr. Anthony Fauci and White House coronavirus response coordinator Dr. Deborah Birx. Even popular TV host Trevor Noah now calls his program the “Daily Social Distancing Show.” 

But I have long urged replacing the term “social distance” with “physical distance.” 

In my view as a psychologist, the continued use of the word “social distance” will exacerbate the emotional trauma already evoked by the loneliness, frustration and depression caused by the self-isolation and quarantines of the lockdowns, making people more desperate for interpersonal connection.  Studies are currently underway to assess the immediate and long-term psychological sequelae of these experiences. 

Worse, “opening up for business” can make vast numbers of people newly released from confinement to home even more likely to rebel against recommendations to restrict close “social” contact to prevent the virus spread. 

Hence, a physical measurement – implicit in “physical distancing” -- is easier and less emotionally-charged to follow. 

Besides, considerable research proves that social isolation exacerbates emotional trauma and that the opposite -- social connection -- heals psychological stress from crisis. This has been vividly true in all my extensive work providing psychosocial support to people after natural disasters around the world, in Japan, China, Sri Lanka, Iran, Sint Maarten, the USA, and in epidemics, like in Hong Kong during SARS and in Sierra Leone during the Ebola outbreak. 

Social connection – people keeping in touch without touching -- can still flourish in physical distancing, facilitated by many technological tools available to almost everyone today. 

When the pandemic first broke, I immediately reacted negatively to the term “social distancing” being used in wall-to-wall news, and advised replacing it with “physical distancing.” All my associates agreed. I also pointed out this distinction right away to my graduate psychology students at Teachers College, Columbia University, in my class on “Psychology and the United Nations,” emphasizing that this distinction is more consistent with international documents recognizing social connection as fundamental to good physical and mental health. 

In many subsequent webinars, I made sure to highlight this need to shift terminology. In my segment on mental health on a webinar on April 6, on “COVID-19 in Africa: Stopping the Spread and the Panic,” co-sponsored by the United African Congress and my NGO accredited at the United Nations, the International Association of Applied Psychology, the Ambassador of Sierra Leone to the United States, HE Sidique Wai, who was also on the program, acknowledged the wisdom of my point and later told me he had spread this advice to all his fellow Ambassadors, to use the term “physical distancing” instead of “social distancing.”  

Words matter.  They determine behavior through neural connections in the brain.  When the brain hears the words “social distancing,” the neurons fire on the word “social” and do not compute a required physical distance. 

Even before the announced “opening up” today, frighteningly, I’ve noted that gaggles of congregating people in my beloved New York City – being called the “Ground Zero” of COVID-19 -- are not heeding the continual reminders to “socially distance”. I saw many people passing by each other at arms length, clearly not measuring or claiming a 6-foot safe space. 

The contrast between this more lax approach is stark to what I experienced months ago when the lockdown was in full force and I gingerly ventured out to the drug store, dodging and zig-zagging with fellow passers-by to avoid getting close to each other. In the rare instances of making eye contact, our glances warned, “Stay out of my space” “You could make me sick.”  Eerily, I felt like a leper. 

Further, I fear that emergence from months of stifling quarantine will unleash flagrant and defiant disregard of safe distance rules. During the height of the pandemic, and during Spring break, the news had already shown so many young people cavorting in close contact on beaches.  

Some stores are helping to keep the distance, with separation barricades, broken lines or circular dots on the ground to indicate how far apart people need to stand. Kudos to CityMD, where I went for my COVID-19 test, for encouraging adherence with impressive quotes inside their dots outside the door for patients waiting to enter. 

“Hope is being able to see there is light despite all the darkness,” is one quote, from revered human rights activist Desmond Tutu. 

“It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light,” is inside another circle, from ancient philosopher Aristotle. 

But spaced-apart dots can’t accommodate the long lines accumulating now that shops are opening up, like those by the cash registers on Duane Reade’s floor that request, “Please stay 6 feet apart to protect everyone.” Wanting to position myself accurately, and noticing the tall guy behind me, I asked, “Are you 6’4”? He answered, “No, 6’7”.  He smiled, but didn’t budge, nor did the guy close behind him. 

Six feet is now the recommended safe space. Interestingly, a systematic review published in the Lancet medical journal of databases from over 200 studies supports physical distancing of 1 meter (approximately 3.3 feet) or more as the best available guidance to date for models and contact tracing to inform policy about the coronavirus, while noting the need for more “robust” research. 

The once-proposed humorous alternatives to handshakes and hugs, such as bumping fists, elbows, or even feet, don’t even qualify for the required safe distance. 

To traverse the divide, one woman joked, “Since we’re not allowed to hug anymore, I’m going to do the Queen of England’s signature royal hand wave.” One man’s solution is more zooming on his iPhone, and spying on neighbors with binoculars, “So I know some living bodies are out there besides me.” 

“Physical distancing” will impact differently in cultures.  Spacing is already built in to greetings in more socially conservative countries, like the Japanese bowing and the Indian “Namaste.” In contrast, for Americans, Europeans, and Latinos more accustomed to closer contact, bans on hugging and cheek-kissing may meet more resistance, especially when labeled  as “social” distance than called the less-emotionally charged phrase “physical distance.” 

As one New Yorker bemoaned, “If I don’t hug people, I’ll feel empty and others will think I’m stand-offish. It’s just not me.” 

My psychological advice: Alerting people about your changed behavior always allays complications.  So, admit up front, “I’m usually warm and friendly, but I’m observing physical distance to keep both of us safe; so, no offence if I stand back further now.” 

Also, speak in a louder voice to be heard across the space.  

Further, notice, adjust, and resist when necessary, those natural personal moves, like moving in closer to show attraction or agreement. 

Also beef up your body language, 60% of which normally accounts for communication, but more of which will help get your points across. 

Recognize your own and others’ PD—comfort with a measure of personal distance.  As a relationship therapist, I have always advised daters to respect each other’s PD. Some people require more space, and feel “invaded” when their boundary is crossed, on the basis of comfort or even as a sign of aggression.  Most people know what it feels like to back up when they feel someone “is in your face.

”A field of study, called proxemics by cultural anthropologist Edward Hall who coined the term in 1963, defines the distance surrounding a person as forming a space. Personal space is the area around a person which s/he regards, and values, as psychologically theirs. Zones can be individually defined and reserved for different people, from intimates and new acquanitances to public groupings. In his studies, gender mattered: males needed more personal space than females. 

Hall identified four zones and ranges of distance. 

Social distance – that coorelates to the current 6-feet pandemic recommendations – refers to  interactions among acquaintances and ranges from 4 to 7 feet, to 7 to 12 feet. 

Public distance is even fruther -- as during public speeches -- ranging from 12 to 25 feet or more. 

Intimate distance, for close relations, during touching or embracing, ranges from less than an inch to 6-18 inches. Personal distance, defined for interactions among family and good friends, ranges from  1.5 to 2.5 feet, or extended to 4 feet.

Beyond personal space is also more social forms. For example, territory refers to areas a person may "lay claim to" and defend against others. These include surrounding spaces (body territory); and places a person has continuous control over (home territory) or can freely enter (public territory) or congregate (interactional territory).

The brain also plays a role, in that proximities stimulate the amygdala part of the brain inside the cerebral hemisphere involved with experiencing emotions. Approach into personal space can be welcome, while violations are perceived as invasive or aggressive, and lead to discomfort, anxiety or anger. The #MeToo movement has made this all too evident, demanding respect for this personal space.

Brain chemicals get triggered in close bonding, that boost health and mental health, like oxytocin, (the “cuddle chemical”) that flows between a mother and her newborn; and neurotransmitters that boost your mood in activities like intimate relations, releasing endorphins (“the pleasure chemical”), dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine. 

Research proves that touch has physical benefits - reducing blood pressure – and emotional value. During 9/11, we first responders handed out teddy bears to survivors and those who lost loved ones, to hold for what’s called “contact comfort,” that leads to proven psychological and physical gains. 

One of my favorite studies proving the importance of this contact comfort is by noted psychologist Harry Harlow in the 1950s who showed that baby monkeys clung more to a “mother” figure constructed of wire covered with soft cloth than to a wire figure outfitted with a milk bottle. 

Once health advisories say it’s safe, recalibrating the personal distance and getting back to social contact is crucial to heal from this pandemic.   

Note: this article refers to the personal distancing between people, while distancing measures used to control the spread of this contagious disease also refers to closures of schools, workplaces and other public facilities, and prohibition of certain numbers of people in gatherings.