I get irritated at things. In fact, I can get very irritated at most things in life, like physical infrastructure, software user interfaces, but also people, to name a few. Of course, these skew to the more emotional side but there are also physical irritations, such as of the skin from a rash; these are not of particular interest to me in this essay. Here, I will focus on the emotional irritation stirred in me by the actions or inactions, and words of people. I will also further limit this to regular social relationships, not those in more professional settings of the workplace or business-customer interactions, many of which are bureaucratically designed to cause irritation even if they say otherwise. Also, work environments and cultures can be high variance based on geography. For example, what happens in an Indian context may not happen in or apply to an American or British settingThis is from what I have heard as I have only ever worked in academia and all of that has been outside India..

With this framing, I consider there to be broadly two classes of irritation, then: things I notice people do or say in one-on-one interactions with me, which I call direct irritation; and those that happen around me involving others, which I call indirect irritation. While I’m sure one could find more classes of irritation, I think working with two is more immediately useful.

Direct irritation

In the first (or direct) case, where interactions involve only me and another person, I let that irritation simmer but not boil into a rising temper that then spills over as externalised anger. I’ll call this kind of temper as non-spillover anger. Spillover anger, on the other hand, is when I express my irritation with a clear and obvious temper, which could take the form of verbal volleys or raised voicesThough we will come to an edge case..

Non-spillover anger

In these direct irritation scenarios, my non-spillover anger takes shape in two ways; long-term withdrawal from a person without saying much; or snippy remarks that play out in different ways.

With close-enough or long-time friends, I make snippy jokes, (often wrongly) assuming they can take it. Admittedly, this is not a good assumption on my part, but I’m also weirdly bad at starting angry confrontationsBut I’m excellent at rebuttals to someone else’s. Also a horrid personality trait. and default to humour.

If the recipient of my jabs can tolerate them and has an appreciation for wit, they might respond back with smart rejoinders of their own. This often leads to a fun and funny dynamic that diffuses the tension and, in some cases, honesty could also eventually emerge to let the heat of anger boil off from a sensible conversation; if all goes well, course-correction may follow from both of us. Sometimes, we might also see that a mountain was made of a molehill.

In cases where the other party can’t handle my snippy remarks, I take that as a sign that they (or I) do not wish to course-correct. In this case, the result is an unpleasant-ish interaction from which we both end up taking space, eventually. A mutual distance-taking process can be healthy as neither party gets singed by the bubbling of one’s own anger onto themselves—a sort of self-inflicted harm—or that of the other’s anger spilling onto them.

Of course, over time, this drift can devolve into a permanently irreconcilable relationship if neither party is willing to meet in the middleI’m especially parsimonious at compromising when I know I’m right.. I take this also as a sign of a mostly good thing for the two of us. But why do I think so?

It’s not that this distance emerged (or is being maintained) due to ego clashes that prevent working things outThough that does happen and is probably best left unpursued as a long-term relationship. but because one of us is genuinely incapable of reflection and course-correction—this could be me, too, not just the other person¹. Interactions of this kind can become draining in the long-term; hence, my optimism around the long-term upsides of relationships that end, romantic or otherwise.

My thoughts on why people in contemporary times are unreflective is that the lives they live—especially as these get more professionalised with age—actively discourage them from being so. For example, I have noticed that a lot of people in corporate-ish jobs, especially in well-paying sectors, seem to have that capacity of reflection weeded out of them; perhaps it’s because most of the incentives are in stubbornly standing one’s ground with confidence in incorrect assertions to climb the ladder of “success”. Another reason is that, prior to ladder climbing, one has to also be sort of mechanical and perform any task asked of them—so the belief in a hierarchical social order with a chain of command becomes ingrained in the person. And when they climb that ladder, they continue to believe in this chain of command. And in a chain of command, there is only wrong or right; no middle ground.

So, my theory is that people, particularly in professional jobs in banks and tech, are incentivised to not be thoughtful and reflective. Instead, it’s about self-defence and self-promotion, which seeps into their personal lives.

While this lack of reflection is an unfortunate bug, I think the longer-term ramifications are that the mind of a once sharp person becomes, I’m sad to say, quite blunted². What I have noticed about myself with such people is that the relationship either fully devolves into nothingness or to the point where we only meet to do activities I abhor—like brunch or some other useless momentary fad—but partake in out of a sense of guilt of neglecting them. This is worse than nothingness and I’m working to cease such interactions that are a compromise on my values and personal taste.

Spillover anger

The other case is when these one-to-one interactions lead to an externalisation of temper with raised voices, which I call spillover anger. One sees this happen routinely in well-established, long-term relationships, where blood and other bodily fluids are provably thicker than water. These are also mostly stronger relationships resistant to minor turbulences so we do not withdraw totally, because we can’t reach reasonable resolutions through such means.

But if a common ground cannot be reached, then civility and cordiality also cannot be restored. In such cases, these may also end in the kind of unsalvageable relationship termination seen in the aforementioned case of non-spillover angers.

I am sure there is more there to say here but it’s not of particular interest to me. Thus, I’m not going to psychoanalyse this further as resolution tactics for spillover anger are more nuanced and idiosyncratic. Especially so in romance, from my experience.

However, I have acknowledged that spillover anger happens and it’s a very unfruitful and unhealthy way of being. No good comes from lashing out at anyone. I have worked past a lot of this via deliberate practice as I think I may have a genetic proclivity for such reactions. As I have gotten more effective here, I have noticed my tendencies increasingly migrating from spillover anger to non-spillover anger because, as I pointed out earlier, it creates opportunities for a more measured and useful conflict resolution, in the best case, but can also lead to relationship termination, which is not necessarily bad.

Indirect irritation

This is the second kind of irritation, which I claim manifests during multi-person interactions/settings, when I observe how one person’s actions (and reactions) or words affect another person or creature or combination thereof. The words or actions need not be directed at the other parties; they could be bitching and moaning about them to meI am sure I do this a fair bunch, as well. So, if you know me, then you can think of how I make you feel when I do this. or completely neglecting the other party (if they’re present), which is inaction as a form of action.

In most of these cases, I consider myself an observer and avoid direct involvement in managing things despite constantly assessing the balance of the interaction and estimating the ramifications, if course-correction isn’t made. Most times, I’m wrong and it looks like people are okay with these kinds of interactions and are able to move on even without course-correction. I suppose this is genuinely a good way of living. Perhaps, I’m more resentful than others.

But there are two scenarios where I do feel I need to stick my leg in if course-correction isn’t made: when the circumstance emerges from me introducing the other parties; and circumstances where someone else’s responsibility gets thrust upon me. This is a situation where I sense some kind of injustice or unfairness, minor or major, is being perpetuated, intentionally or unintentionally.

I do not get involved because I want to but because I have toI’m sounding like that parent now..

The course-correction strategies take two forms: one-to-one, where I engage with a specific perpetrator, or one-to-many, where I engage with a party of perpetrators.

One-to-one course-correction

This is my preferred modality of course-correction in almost all cases. I’ve intervened in scenarios when: people have entrusted their responsibilities to others for an extended period of time, e.g. care of a pet, while not recognising its impacts on others when this prolongs; or family members engaged in the continued inappropriate practices endemic to Indian family dynamics. In the latter case, I have been complicit in my youth of many an egregious activity, but now I step in to suggest reflection that might help prevent further propagation. My change was enabled by others who intervened similarly. The societal acceptance within Indian families of sexism and gender roles is one example of an egregious philosophy; the practice of using physical or verbal force is another I have observed (but fortunately haven’t practiced!).

Of course, in most of these cases, my course-corrective actions are met with resistance or, in more limited but extreme cases, rebuke. These are not unreasonable reactions because I have, in some cases, also overstepped limits by saying things that others may find extreme; examples of my overreaction have occurred when the constant neglect of a pet cat resulted in a flea infestation that mostly affected me (and, of course, the cat) as, somehow, I had assumed its care-taking responsibilities in the heads of those I dwelled with. The physical irritation of flea bites coupled with the mental stress from the deteriorating health of said feline resulted in my delivering some sharp comments to a couple of parties. An example of my extreme response was confronting one of them about their insensitivity to my needs, as a friend, and questioning another about their capacity to be parent a child when they couldn’t even tend to a cat. While recognising my misgivings, my position remains that such situations could have been tackled better by their sensitivity and presence after a period of a month. Needless to say, these relationships devolved.

As I said when discussing direct irritations, there is a general lack of reflection in much of today’s society. My suspicion is that they’re numbed by the demands of their jobs and further sedated by the plethora of addictive substances and apps, making them incapable of taking stock of when they’ve rejected their social responsibilities to other creatures—even the ones they actively chose to commit to.

One-to-many course-correction

This also plays out in friend groups as well as Indian family dynamics.

Families

In the latter scenario, a repeating example I have seen is when women spend their time in the kitchen while men presume they can simply stay uninvolved—it’s not unusual for an Indian man to have his meal brought to him to the table and then have the finished bowl taken away by his domesticated life-partner of the opposite sex.

There is an implicit acceptance by both parties that this is, in fact, some kind of earned keep by the man who is the bread-winner. But I have also heard (and witnessed) the modern Indian woman bearing the brunt of household chores while maintaining employment at an office.

These are examples of social injustices that I observe and have attempted to encourage reflection on from both (or all) parties involved; here, one-to-one correction seems irrelevant and ineffective.

As one’s genetic proximity with the couple in question increases, the method of delivery gets softer, indirect, or more tactful; the effectiveness of the message is, therefore, also weak. Again, I try to shy away from these kinds of dynamics.

Friends

The one-to-many conversation is also one I have in friend groups; the “many” component here emerges most commonly when there are romantic couples involved and less so, in my experience, between a set of friends; in this latter case, any resolution can fall into the one-to-one resolution, if needed.

But couples often agree on an action, explicitly or implicitly, and therefore outnumber decision-making in groups of three or four. I have seen this play out in homes I have shared with three others, two of whom were a couple. They would usually exercise a uniformly agreed upon decision for the entire house using their coordination upper-hand.

Other common situations are when friends travel as a large group comprising singles and couples. In my experience, there is often a mismanagement of expected behaviours—again, the couples are better co-ordinated between themselves but not with the group³. For example, couples may be less keen to have a late night about town that is more appealing to the singles. They will often expect the singles to always participate in a group; but the singles are also here to find other new ephemeral connections.

When these are couples that I have introduced to the group travel dynamic, I have stepped in to suggest reflections and this has, so far, been poorly met.

Outcomes

It’s a fair question to ask why I would stir shit up in these indirect irritations with a corrective action strategy. I could just be quiet and let the others handle it.

I ask this of myself and, in most cases, my answer is that if I don’t say something, I believe no one else will. Or they won’t until they’re ready to blow up. Trying to catch things early, where possible and within reason, is usually a good thing.

If things don’t work out as planned, I have already said above that this is probably for the best and are indicators of a very strong philosophical incompatibility between parties. It stems from a fundamental disagreement on values of what is fair and right and compassionate; if it’s not that, then it’s just a difference in styles of communication. If we can’t work that out, then I suppose there’s no deeper purpose to these relationships. And we can fall into the pattern of brunching and, eventually, distance-making between us.

Conclusion

My course-corrective actions have not always been well met and I do not advise others do so; even with the most elegantly worded and compassionately delivered notes of caution to the offending party, my criticisms have been received poorly. When I have transgressed, as discussed above, things have also not worked out.

That said, I do think that the overall outcomes are generally for the best even if all parties decide to reduce or halt interactions altogether. Maybe it’s easy for me to say this as a person with strong social instincts, even if I prefer to be a homebody.

I wouldn’t say I’m an ambivert—I think my personality and ability to let go of older, supposedly stronger relationships on the grounds of philosophical incompatibilities is from being an outsider.

And, yes, I’m a fairly judgmental and unforgiving person, yes.