Apparently I’m not the only one. Many of you are also driven crazy by comments or questions that you know are wholly innocent and socially appropriate. And I dare say that any of us who have occasionally been in one of those “Just don’t ASK me how [my job hunt, the dissertation, trying to have a baby, selling that house we've had on the market since mid-2008, recovering from my hip surgery] is going!” moods sometimes feel a twinge of discomfort when we encounter friends or acquaintances who are in similarly delicate situations. Ought we ask? Are they tired of talking about it? Ought we not ask? And risk them thinking we are tired of listening? Oy. One wants to be sensitive … yet it is so difficult! With apologies to Oscar Wilde, the only thing worse than being asked personal questions is not being asked personal questions.

The fear of saying something hurtful-if-not-rude reminded me of this post from my Miss Conduct blog, on the pros and cons of friending one’s parents on Facebook. Many commenters rightly pointed out that nothing on Facebook is really private anyway, with one stating, “[M]y worst enemy will never see anything other than banal posts like ‘I took my dog for a walk’ or ‘I’m grilling hamburgers with the family.’” So that’s the reason so many Facebook posts are notoriously boring! Rather than risk giving offense, or giving ammunition to someone who may wish you ill, people cling to dull, anodyne status updates that no one can possibly object to.

And here’s where I’m going with all this. It’s terribly trendy these days to run around accusing the rest of the world of narcissism (I’ve written about this before). I wonder, though: if people are focusing more on themselves, and talking more about themselves, might there be at least some degree of pro-social motivation to this? “Why do you think the rest of the world cares what you have for breakfast?” the anti-narcissism crusader against Facebook thunders. Maybe the person who posted, “Greek yogurt and honey is yummy!” isn’t necessarily convinced that hundred of friends are breathlessly eager for this news. Maybe she simply wants to express herself, a sort of virtual wave hello, but doesn’t want to risk starting a debate about abortion, or having her mother nag her to explain the origin of some private joke, or her employer see that she was out until 3am last night. In short, perhaps all those “Time for bed!” and “Coffee, STAT!” updates are less the result of compulsive self-expression than they are of compulsive self-censorship.

In face-to-face conversation, too, I wonder if we sometimes come across as self-absorbed because we fear asking, or saying, the wrong thing. We hesitate to ask the graduate about his job plans, the mom-to-be about her pregnancy, the groom about his honeymoon, the academic about her grant application. And haven’t we all been taught that when fighting with loved ones, we are to use “I” statements (”I feel hurt when you do X”) rather than “you” statements (”You always do X, you big moron”)? Awareness of diversity, too–of the different ways that men and women, whites and people of color, straights and gays experience the world–can leave the sensitive soul feeling that she can only speak with real authority when she is speaking about herself. (Compare this to some fifty years ago or so, when men and white people felt quite capable of speaking for humanity as a whole.) Certainly, this sensitive soul feels that way. I use a huge number of first-person pronouns in my work–a measure sometimes used as a dependent variable to determine a writer’s level of narcissism! But it doesn’t stem from that at all. I mean, of course I’m in love with my own words, that’s why I’m a writer. But my compulsion to keep qualifying them as my words comes less from hubris than humility. This is my opinion of what your mother-in-law said at the last family picnic. Not God’s. Not Jane Austen’s. Not Oprah’s. Just mine, influenced by my own unique experiences and education. Don’t take it for more than that.

Some people are still self-absorbed jerks, I’m not saying they aren’t. But I wonder if there aren’t other motives at play as well. What do you think?