Nothing to speak of: the horror of a world without gossip

By Ian Leslie

Idon’t know about you, but for me, lockdown has been enervating. My pulse rate has slowed to a lazy blip and my mood, while not necessarily low, has gone flat. I hadn’t realised until now quite how much I rely on social encounters – you remember, the ones where you actually meet the person – for my daily meds of dopamine and adrenaline. In particular, I find myself missing conversations that deliver an illicit payload of news about someone my acquaintance and I know in common.

Gossip, like many other activities, has been stifled by lockdown. It relies on the world going about its business. Its juices are stimulated by social collisions, misadventures and infractions. When so few of us are doing anything much, or seeing anyone beyond our immediate circle, there is less scope for bad behaviour and less to report on. As offices, bars and restaurants closed down almost overnight, so did opportunities to spot secret couples sloping off to lunch or overhear covert deals being discussed at alcove tables.