The Allure of Eavesdropping

Two tables down from me, an empty table between us, sit a mother and daughter. I suppose I may have the relationship wrong - could they be aunt and niece? Partners? No, I am sure they are mother and daughter. They walked into the restaurant shortly after me, sat down, and did not speak until ordering drinks and food. They are drinking the same thing, a lemonade, perhaps? They are now whispering, their expressions animated, almost heated. I can only hear fragments of conversations. “You shouldn’t have,” the younger woman states, and then her voice lowers. The older woman tries repeatedly to interject, all I hear is ‘but’, repeated numerous times.

Across from me, at a two top tucked into a corner, sits a couple. The relationship feels new, yet he knows her favourite wine, pointing it out to her on the menu. He is trying to impress her, explaining menu items and speaking of previous visits to this town. With who, I wonder? He grasps her arm possessively. He is older and looks as though he may have money. She is younger, pretty in that bleached blond, puffed lip way. I wish I could hear their conversation. This is frustrating for someone like me, who loves to listen in on what others are saying!

And yet, for me, this is the allure of eavesdropping - not knowing the whole story and crafting my own version of the interaction I am witnessing.

I am not alone. Research has shown that people are drawn to gaps in conversations. It seems it is harder to not listen to a conversation when someone is talking on the phone (we only hear one side of the dialogue) than when two physically present people are talking to each other. Although the phone conversation contains much less information, we are more curious about what is being said.

And then there are those annoying people who you would rather not hear, who speak so loudly that it is pretty clear they are wanting to be overheard, hoping for a reaction, I expect.

I met two of those individuals recently, both during wine tastings. In Porto, we went to Burmester Cellars for a tour and port tasting. Tour complete, we eagerly awaited the tasting. The woman next to my husband stated loudly to her husband sitting beside me, “I cannot believe people actually drink this!” My husband and I exchanged glances, thinking the same thing, I am sure - this is nectar from the gods! Then she added, “And I am not a boozer, I can’t imagine drinking so much!” And we smirk at each other, knowing we will be tasting at least six more ports before the day winds down. Did we respond? Nope. Why bother? Frankly, I thought, why lay out $40 euros for something you don’t enjoy? She walked off in a huff. We engaged her husband in conversation. Did he like the port? No. In a quiet, reasonable voice, he responded that he did not think he could acquire a taste for port.

A few days later, we booked a wine tour and tasting at Quinta da Foz in Pinhão, a family winery renowned for their wines. And yes, another obnoxious woman who clearly wanted us to hear what she had to say. Inés, our lovely, knowledgeable tour guide, was telling us about a vintage red wine and shared that it paired well with chocolate. This woman leaned towards her husband and, in a voice heard by us all, said she could not believe that wine would be paired with chocolate. Is this common in Portugal, or only with this wine, she asked. Continuing, she stated that people in the UK did not eat chocolate with wine, nor did anyone else outside of Portugal. How do you respond to such an expert? There was no need. The others at the tasting jumped in and commented on their love of wine with chocolate and that this was a regular practice around the world.

I have loved listening in to conversations since I was child. I remember creeping out of bed and sitting at the top of the stairs, listening to my parents in the living room below. Hearing fragments of conversations that left me worried about their relationship and finances - only because I could not hear everything. I have sat on trains, planes, and buses, holding myself back from giving advice to perfect strangers. And I have smiled to myself at the presumption that because I speak English, I do not understand other languages. I have eavesdropped on interesting conversations in Dutch and French!

I always felt a twinge of guilt eavesdropping. My husband laughed when I told him the title of of this blog, as he does not share my fascination and is usually the one who has to listen to my interpretations of conversations and relationships.

So, I was relieved to read that eavesdropping has its benefits! It seems that frequent exposure to situations that have us ‘listening in’ can actually enhance social cognition over time. Eavesdropping, actually enhances our understanding of others' minds, also known as the theory of mind (ToM).

We are all born with a natural predisposition for ToM, and experiences like meditation and reading literary fiction have been shown to enhance it. Conversations demand that we consider others' thoughts and feelings, so it is no surprise that eavesdroppers develop better ToM skills.

The research implies that individuals who often listen rather than contribute to conversations may develop better ToM abilities. Interestingly, people with less power—such as women—generally perform better on ToM tasks. Findings hint that this difference could be due to being frequently exposed to situations encouraging women to listen but not contribute, thereby honing their ToM skills. I wonder if this is the same for older people, too often forced to listen rather than contribute?

Are you like me? Are you also drawn in by the allure of eavesdropping? If so, I would love to hear some of the conversations you might have heard - or your interpretations of what you heard!