Memes are changing how we talk IRL

Mint

4 hours ago

It started as a joke. Rishabh Malik, 21, a college student from Rajasthan, mimicked a trending meme at a party. 'Only one friend got it—we ended up laughing, but the rest looked lost," he says. 'That's when I realised not everyone lives online like we do. Sometimes," he adds, 'meme references completely derail a conversation, leaving it fragmented or flat."
Visha Agrawal, 23, a graphic designer from Ahmedabad, has experienced similar moments. 'I quoted a reel and then had to explain the entire backstory. It killed the moment," she says. For her, the problem runs deeper. 'People escalate everything into a debate, even trivial stuff like AI memes. No one knows when to stop."
Manan Sharma, 22, who works in advertising in Mumbai, has observed digital language infiltrating professional spaces. 'I've had coworkers say things like 'LMAO' or 'XD' out loud in meetings. It feels robotic. Like we're performing the internet version of ourselves."
As our online lives bleed into the real world, social media's logic—fast, curated, and often performative—is subtly reshaping how we speak, share and show up offline. Real-world communication is beginning to mirror social media: fast-paced, reaction-driven and curated for attention.
Mumbai-based Rutu Mody Kamdar, founder of Jigsaw Brand Consultants, specialising in consumer research, behavioural insights and cultural strategy, explains how digital validation has altered behaviour beyond screens. 'While validation has always been part of human nature, what's changed in the social media age is the pace, scale, and structure of how it plays out," she says.
Earlier, validation was shaped by real-time cues in a room—today, it's shaped by the logic of virality. 'People now narrate stories not just to connect, but to resonate, to land, to be remembered—often unconsciously mirroring the rhythm of a post." Kamdar notes a 'performative edge" creeping into everyday offline moments. 'People talk at dinner like they're writing a caption. The ability to sit with nuance is diminishing." Conversations are either hyper-verbal or awkwardly thin—emotions skimmed, not felt.
This shift is particularly visible in Gen Z and younger millennials, who have grown up with their online and offline selves deeply enmeshed. According to Instagram's 2024 Trend Talk report, Indian Gen Z users increasingly seek day-in-the-life content and advice from creators, blurring the boundary between what's authentic and what's aspirational. In turn, their real lives begin to echo the curated tones of their digital personas.
Empathy eroded
Mumbai-based clinical psychologist and trauma therapist Rupa Chaubal observes this closely in her practice. 'Gen Z's worldview is largely shaped by what they consume online. Many turn to Google or social media before speaking to their parents," she says. 'They believe they already know enough, which reduces trust in human experience."
This trust deficit doesn't just affect families—it impacts peer groups, workplaces, and romantic relationships. 'Empathy is eroding. I see clients reacting impulsively or resorting to harsh criticism in conflicts," Chaubal explains. 'An increasing sense of entitlement becomes a barrier while handling real-life disagreements."
Even in therapy, online habits seep in. 'Some clients bring memes to explain how they feel rather than using their own words," she says. Others cite social media counterpoints as if trying to 'dethrone" the therapist. 'It becomes a battle of sources."
Preeti D'Mello, founder of The Fulfillment Institute, a leadership coaching and organisational development institute, and an organisational psychologist based in Princeton, New Jersey, links this to an overdependence on digital validation. 'When affirmation comes from likes and shares, people start needing constant feedback. They struggle with patience, active listening, and empathy." She sees the result in both personal and professional settings. 'People are more reactive and less able to sit with opposing views. Civil discourse is declining."
Is debate mode the default?
Malik says that at his engineering college, juniors often approach conversations like Twitter threads. 'You say something and they come back with 'Um, actually…'—as if every interaction is a thread to win, not a discussion."
This debate-mode mindset, driven by online norms like quote-tweeting and clapbacks, often leaves real-life interactions tense or exhausting. 'People forget they're not on a comment section," Sharma says. 'You can't just mute or block someone in person."
Chaubal adds, 'Younger clients seem more interested in the 'intent' of communication than the content itself. They're restless, they lose interest if a conversation isn't stimulating—and they often struggle with eye contact or pauses."
This inability to read or respond to non-verbal cues—especially among those raised during the peak of screen use during covid—further frays connection. 'It can lead to relationships that feel hollow or unstable."
The offline resistance
Yet, even in a hyper-connected world, people are beginning to carve out intentional spaces for offline connection—often without making a big show of it.
A recent trend, especially among young urban dwellers, involves turning apartments into temporary cafés. Friends are invited over for coffee shop-style hangouts—no phones, no agendas, just in-person time. Others are organising monthly themed dinners, cooking together, or doing small group activities like zine-making or handmade balm workshops. The goal is to shift attention from passive scrolling to active, tactile engagement.
The trend is catching on because it offers something digital life can't: slowness, unpredictability, and the intimacy of shared silence.
As Kamdar puts it, 'We're not going back to a pre-internet world. The answer isn't retreat—it's integration." She encourages a return to values that shaped real-world connection: deep listening, genuine curiosity, presence without performance.
While the idea of a digital detox is often floated, experts agree that simply going offline isn't enough. 'What's needed is conscious choice-making," says Chaubal. 'A digital habit that overrides impulse control can have psychological side effects—social withdrawal, irritability, anxiety."
Her advice: choose fewer platforms, set realistic time limits, and engage in real conversations—even if they're awkward or slow. 'It's about re-learning how to be human, without the filter of a screen," she says. D'Mello agrees: 'True social intelligence is built sitting around a dinner table, navigating pauses, and learning to read a room's unspoken needs."
The internet has given us incredible tools—community, expression, visibility–but it's worth asking what we might be losing in the process.
A long walk with a friend. A screen-free dinner. A quiet moment that isn't uploaded. Maybe the most radical thing we can do is simply show up, fully.
Anoushka Madan is a Mumbai-based freelance lifestyle writer. She posts @noushontheinternet.