For many, a casual "How are you?" is a mere social pleasantry. But in Germany, as journalist Carolin Würfel reveals, this everyday question can trigger a profound internal crisis, exposing a deep-seated cultural aversion to superficiality and vulnerability.
The Weight of a Simple Question
Würfel's personal reckoning came during a conversation with a Turkish friend in Ayvalık. He pointed out that she never directly answered the question, instead deflecting to broader topics like politics. This observation led her to a stark conclusion: the question "How are you?" stresses her out immensely. She describes freezing when asked, torn between a desire for deep self-analysis and a fear of being impolite or overwhelming.
She argues this is not a personal quirk but a widespread German phenomenon. While in countries like the UK or Turkey, "I'm fine" is a standard, expected ritual, in Germany it is often viewed with suspicion. "I'm fine" is considered naive, shallow, or even dishonest. The result is a typical, stumbling response: "Ach. I'm OK … Well … Actually … did you see what's happening in the news?"
Historical Echoes and Emotional Fortresses
Würfel traces this cultural trait to an intergenerational inheritance. She notes that many female authors and artists who grew up in the 1930s and 1940s recalled "How are you?" as an entirely absent question in their childhoods. This, she suggests, is tied to the devastations of the 20th century and what is often termed German angst—a collective tendency toward anxiety and pessimism.
The irony, she notes, is a national focus on Vergangenheitsbewältigung (coming to terms with the past) publicly, while rarely discussing how that history continues to shape emotional expression. The German language itself, with its precise words for complex feelings like Weltschmerz (world-weariness) or Geborgenheit (secure warmth), may function less as a tool for openness and more as a sophisticated fortress to hide behind.
A Hope in Healthier Generations
The consequence of this reluctance is a perception of Germans as cold, restrained, and detached, missing out on easy, warm everyday exchanges. However, Würfel finds hope in younger generations. Those with access to Germany's healthcare system and therapy are better at expressing feelings, worries, and self-analyses freely. They ridicule the old stoic mantra of "squeezing one's butt cheeks and carrying on."
As author Heike Geißler reflects in her essay Arbeiten, answering "How are you?" has become an act of effort, a declaration of stance. Würfel concludes that perhaps it is time to let our guard down. As we reconnect over the festive period, admitting the flaws we've spent generations hiding might be a step toward more genuine connection. What's the worst that could happen?
