Impression

First impressions aren't everything. But a single impression can carry the weight of a whole book — of upbringing, education, and prejudice. Oh, and pressure.

And yet those first three seconds stick. Not just in memory, but as a whole judgemental picture. And without any liability attached.

He seems likeable.

So does she.

And all of that is decided in three seconds — how a person is put together, what they project? Well, look at that — speed dating is an ancient model.

When I meet people for the first time, I start an internal stopwatch. Three seconds is a ridiculously short time to sort someone out. The impression drifts quickly in one direction — but does it hold?
Yes. An impression. Made once. Barely correctable after that.

This flimsy three-second moment gives me a picture of a whole human being?
Hold on — the impression game is no one-way street. The person across from me is doing exactly the same thing. No, not consciously. It runs entirely without awareness — evolution on autopilot.

Do I want to know what impression I made on them in those three seconds?

No.

I’m quite busy enough with my own impressions. They need sorting, after all, before they can count as a verdict.

What do you mean, verdict?
My lower or upper consciousness is judging a person in three flimsy seconds?

Exactly.

Then I’d very much like to know what’s feeding that hard-nosed verdict. What does the factual picture look like?
Oh, I do love that short little phrase when I’m confronted with a claim — yes, from the person across from me.

So, the facts on the ground for the three-second act? Well, they stand on thin legs. Probably. Because those legs are one’s own experiences up to this point in life, which will go ahead and declare what type of person this is.

Come again? That’s all the brain has to offer?

Yes. Apparently. And at lightning speed.

Getting to know someone — with verdict attached — is TikTok on ecstasy. Everything at once, judgment after two or three seconds of scrolling.
The person steps forward, holds their body in some particular position to form the corresponding body language, shows their face, gesticulates with their limbs.
Or doesn’t. And yes, then the person opens their mouth, says something or other, and thereby also becomes a plaything of the inner jury.

What kind of shoes is he wearing? Her blouse is quite colourful. But well put-together.

Three seconds. And still: shoes. Blouse. Posture. Verdict — and then a judgment is passed? Yes, but only internally, of course.

In recent years I sometimes try to dissect the impression. Or better yet, lay it out on the table of understanding. Why did my impression of person X or Y turn out this way and not another?

And then something creeps in that bothers me.
Often I simply don’t know what led to that inner verdict.
Why do I find this person so likeable?
And that other one not.
Does a person’s social standing also contribute to the impression?
Probably, but unfairly.

Yes, I’m biased. And with that, I’m out of the game of objectivities.
I can’t help wanting to come away with a good — no — a curious and open-minded impression. I want to find out more about the person who crosses my path or steps on my toes in those first three seconds.
That’s what makes getting to know someone so extraordinarily interesting.

Yes, I trust, initially, that a person has something to tell me — consciously or unconsciously — and that they’re not a serial killer.
So far this approach has served me well.

I’m still here. And I’m still writing.
I like people very much. Even after the first impression.