Most people can’t step into a dance club and start dancing immediately. I, like other people, slowly build up to dancing—first with the meditative headnod to the beat, then involving some hand and arm movement, and—after some time—throwing out big shapes.
But why do we have to slowly build up enough confidence to really start busting moves, and why do we have to do the same thing every night? How do we get to the point where we’re in the mood to dance? Why is dancing a bit scary at first, but becomes easier and less worriesome to do later on? (Other than alcohol—let’s talk about that later.)
I think of it as increasing your tolerance for doing something risky, where the risky activity is dancing. When you first step in, you haven’t been dancing at all, and you might have a worry in your mind that you’ll look stupid dancing. Maybe it’s because you woke up the morning after thinking about how stupid you probably looked dancing last night, or maybe it’s because you just haven’t gotten into the mood to dance. There’s risk involved in dancing, in the form of how you think others perceive you. It’s a bit risky to dance, especially around people you know, since you don’t know what kind of reaction there might be, the risk stays put until something changes—and likewise, you stay put until you change something.
You don’t want to just stand, so you might do something that’s considered acceptable—like nodding your head or tapping your feet to the beat—but not at all risky.
The social feedback you get will probably be good. Nobody has pointed out that you look weird—which they shouldn’t, since you’re doing something that isn’t risky at all—so you might have the impetus to increase your risk tolerance, and start moving your feet or arms. So you do.
That went well too. Again, most likely, nobody has pointed out that you look ridiculous. Everyone else is doing the same thing, and you’re blending in, and it all seems fine. The social feedback is still positive, and since nobody has complained, you’re convinced that what you’re doing is fine, and you’re comfortable with it. After some time, you might feel comfortable enough to dance in different ways, that might be riskier. When you do, it might be a little worrisome, but it gradually becomes comfortable.
I see three things at play here: first, it’s the risk you’re taking: dancing. Second, it’s your risk tolerance, or how willing you are to do something risky. Third, it’s the feedback loop created by you making small steps, and getting feedback in the form of social proof on whether that was well received, and increasing your risk tolerance as a result.
The progression explained above is my guess, based solely on thinking about how I feel and thinking about what I’m thinking on nights out dancing, which I’m doing instead of talking to girls at clubs. While it is different for everyone, I think many of us go through the same thoughts and worries when it comes to social situations like this one. I think it’s important to examine why these problems come up, how we deal with them, and what kind of effect it has on society.
In addition, I think the idea of having a risk tolerance for some sort of risky activity, and raising it based on small steps that create a feedback loop to tell you about some vital metric (in this case, if anyone reacted negatively) by some external factor (in this case, people around you) applies to a lot of activities involving society. Public speaking, music performances, and writing (like I am here)—but also non-creative activities, like dating, learning, group conversations, and many others.