So let’s talk about prosopagnosia, or “faceblindness.” I have it! What this means is that I could well have known you for twenty years, but if I see you outside of the context in which I usually encounter you, or even if you change your hairstyle (!), I may simply not recognize you the next time we cross paths. It’s mortifying! I have literally introduced myself to people I’ve worked alongside for years – who are, entirely understandably, generally fairly miffed that I’ve treated them so poorly.
In this regard, something clicked for me when, of all things, I first heard Hannibal Lecter describe Clarice Starling as “courteous and receptive to courtesy.” Lecter’s own elaborate courtesy did not, of course, interfere with him being a monster of the bloodiest sort, and that’s a principle we can attend to more generally and with great profit. But the idea that the awful grief so many of us carry all the time might be buffered, even a little, by something that amounts to a theater of kindness?
And finally, on reflection, I think my faceblindness is so distressing to me precisely because courtesy, decency, politeness and the respect bound up in what we mean when we say we “see” people are so important to me. They’re some of the few things standing between us and the abyss, fr fr, they’re hanging by a thread, and ideally I want to be enacting them in all my interactions with everyone who isn’t a complete shitbird.
It really is that simple. I get that doing this little song-and-dance at the very beginning of a friendship may seem a little extra, a little performative even, but I think it’s worth it if it prevents me from hurting someone’s feelings for no better reason than a few glitchy connections in my fusiform gyrus. I wish I had started doing this *years* ago, but if you’re in the same boat, hopefully you can benefit from my experience before suffering with things for much longer? 👊
Whenever I meet someone new that I like – which is, y’know, often, because y’all can be some charming motherfuckers – I confess my faceblindness immediately and up front. I say something like, “Hey, if I run into you on the bus or around the neighborhood, and I seem to be giving you the cut direct, I swear I’m not! Please forgive me, and, if you will, indulge me by reminding me of your name and where we met.” I cannot tell you how much grief this has prevented. https://uncommon-courtesy.com/2014/10/01/the-cut-direct-the-fiercest-etiquette-punishment/
This has real social consequences, as I’m sure you can imagine. People who literally feel unseen are unlikely to feel super-warmly about someone so seemingly self-involved as to forget the people they meet. So *finally*, after decades of suffering through this, I’ve figured out a modest workaround, and I really recommend doing something like this if you, too, suffer from any degree of faceblindness. It’s a little embarrassing, but it seems to circumvent that larger, later mortification: