I’ve always been one to do things a little . . . differently. When the other middle school kids were showing off their designer jeans, I was flaunting pink leggings and a “World’s Best Mom” sweatshirt. While my classmates wrote their college essays about what it was like to see a poor person once, I wrote about my favorite pen (I really am obsessed with office supplies). So it seems logical that when everyone else was applying for consulting or investment banking internships my junior year of college, I called up the people that look for aliens.
If you’ve seen the movie “Contact” with Jodie Foster, you’ve heard of the SETI Institute—it’s where they Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. They also perform a bunch of other functions, like employ physicists, astrobiologists, and engineers to research “the origin, nature, and prevalence of life in the universe.” But I didn’t care too much about that other stuff; I wanted to talk to the Martians!
Enter Douglas Vakoch, SETI’s Director of Interstellar Message Composition. I got in touch with Dr. Vakoch through the “Astrobiology and Space Exploration” course I took Winter Quarter, and as soon as we met I knew we had to work together. He tries to communicate with aliens; I try to communicate with men. It was a match made in heaven (literally).
Although I didn’t get the chance to talk to any aliens “per se”, I did do a lot of research on nonverbal communication that will be used as a foundation for creating interstellar messages. And I learned a great deal about how humans use gesture, eye gaze, posture, and body orientation to convey information like dominance and emotional state.
What I’m trying to say is that I can read you like an open book. Your secrets are no longer safe. With one studied glance I will know who you are, what you’re thinking, and the last time you went to the bathroom without washing your hands (answer: yesterday).
Some people are intimidated by my newfound powers, which they express by avoiding eye contact and orienting their body toward the door whenever I walk into the room. I, in turn, express dominance by standing up straight and shouting, “I CAN READ YOUR MIND AND SOME DAY I WILL SPEAK TO THE ALIENS!” If you’ve ever wondered how an attractive and intelligent female like myself once managed to be single, well, now you have your answer.
But for those of you who would like to experience the pleasures of companionship one day, you can learn the secrets of body language and use them covertly to attract that hot guy/girl/Klingon. The following is what I’ve learned so far:
Appropriate eye contact screams “confidence.” Inappropriate eye contact, such as avoiding direct gaze or staring without blinking, screams “serial killer.” Other things that scream “serial killer”: carrying bloody knives, mumbling incoherently, introducing yourself as Bob the Serial Killer.
Body orientation indicates direction of attention. If you want to show someone you’re interested, you should orient your body toward that person when you are talking. Conversely, if they aren’t oriented toward you, they’re not giving you maximum attention (unless this person is a contortionist, in which case I will pay you $20 to give me their number).
Mirroring your partner’s movements shows affiliation. Now this is a little tricky because if you mimic everything your partner does, you are going to look like a fool, particularly if they have a nervous tic and the two of you spend hours hitting yourselves while the rest of the bar looks on in fear. But subtly following your partner’s body language cues (i.e. head movements, gestures, etc.) conveys a sense of association and friendliness.
Kicking a man in the groin with your stilettos ruins his dinner and destroys his dream of fathering children, but indicates that you do not enjoy being groped without express permission. Did you pick up on that nonverbal cue, Bob?
The moral of the story: verbal communication is only one way humans (and presumably, extraterrestrials) express themselves, and it is important to keep this in mind when mingling with the opposite sex. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to retrieve my stiletto from Bob, whose body is currently oriented in the fetal position.
