Have you ever felt hostile toward people who get too close to you? For instance, strangers who stand very near to you on line? How about people who take the bathroom stall next to yours when every other one is available? 

In the same manner that animals define and defend their territories, we humans develop a sense of “ownership” for the space around us. This territory, which is but a few inches, is nonetheless a sort of “personal space” bubble, and we react strongly if it is invaded. 

The size of the bubble varies by culture and by density of population. For instance, the American bubble is far bigger than its French counterpart. The German requirement for personal space is notoriously large (and even includes their car). Personal space needs tend to be smaller in all Latin countries, but not quite as small as in the Middle East, where a proverb states one must “smell the breath” of a man to know if he is to be trusted. 

As a recent article in the NY Times points out, “Scholars can predict which areas of an elevator are likely to fill up first and which urinal a man will choose. They know people will stare at the lighted floor numbers in elevators, not one another.” 

I tried the experiment myself last week, on a crowded Paris subway. When the doors opened and people poured out, I resisted the urge to move away from my nearest standing neighbor into the the newly-created space. Instead, I made myself stay in the same spot and same position, as close as we’d been when the crowd demanded it.

To my own amusement, I realized that I felt so physically uncomfortable as for the situation to be nearly painful! And despite my best efforts to stay in the absolute same position, I realized too late that my body had gotten away from me: though I would not move my feet, the rest of my body was leaning away as much as balance and gravity allowed…