We hold doors for the same reason that we inquire after an acquaintance’s health, let others board the bus first, compliment a cashier’s hairstyle, and thank people when they lend us a pencil: because we want to be liked.
This desire, this absolute need for the good opinion of others, lies so deep in the human psyche that we find ourselves leaving tips for waiters and taxi drivers we will never see again.
Perhaps the trouble with door holding is that it’s too perfunctory to be meaningful. The door holder gives a gift that is almost costless to himself and worth little more than that to the recipient (unless the latter’s hands are full). The whole charade is likely a vestigial remnant of an instinct that meant far more to our illiterate, cave-dwelling ancestors. Centuries ago, we continually re-insured our survival with every shared piece of meat or volunteered night-watch shift at the cave door. We interacted only with intimates whose day-to-day trust and gratitude was critical to our survivial. But this modern courtesy? It’s not a donated kidney; you merely held the door for me and inconvenienced yourself for five seconds.
Yet I suspect there’s more to the gesture than that. It is a signal too brief and too complex to be expressed in words — a reminder that we both are humans, empathizing with each other in peaceful cooperation. Garbanzo contends that door holding imposes a cost on the gesture’s recipient, who must modify his behavior (e.g. by changing direction or quickening pace) to receive the unsolicited gift. But this can be no more burdensome than accepting an unwanted article of clothing and feeling obligated to wear it. The recipient’s behavior — performed out of sheer politeness — reflects his own desire to ingratiate. Thus, he is part of the supposed problem.
The alternative is a society in which nobody tips strangers or holds doors for anyone except those with direct power over them. Nobody puts effort into his appearance — except for job interviews, when one feels the need for external approval most acutely. Without this instinct, you would never need to ask people how they are; instead, immediately begin grilling them for whatever information you need.
Just don’t expect them to respond. That would be doing you a favor.
“The recipient’s behavior…reflects his own desire to ingratiate. Thus, he is part of the supposed problem.”
This is my point (and I think Garbanzo’s): these small social conventions bind us in a web of meaningless social interactions. We can change these larger patterns of social malaise only by starting with the small things. Even though you contend it’s too small to be significant, you yourself link door-holding to a deep part of the human psyche.
And that society where nobody tips strangers or holds doors open for others except those with direct power over them… I think that could describe any number of countries.