There are two good reasons not to have written what follows. The first is that this is an old topic that has been tackled by much more capable people. The second is that I’m really not very popular myself. However, I do know popular people, have informally studied them, and wish to tell you about them. In each case, I will highlight a characteristic that may be an ability or skill, a motive, or simply a conscious choice that I have seen pay dividends for specific people. Following that, I will attempt to present additional evidence supportive of my assertion that this is a good way to be. Without further ado, three keys to becoming beloved. Names have been changed to protect the popular.

1. See Possibilities Everywhere

Growing up, the first lessons I learned about popularity were difficult. I found that people were liked for being special in some superficial way, usually at least partially beyond their (or my) control. They were tall, strong, talented, pretty, or something else I have never quite been, then or since. Humor, thankfully, was partially reinforced. Unfortunately, I never found kindness to be of much value, and it was often exceeded in power by its opposite: ruthlessness and vanity were frequently socially rewarded. People do like narcissists, at least at first (Back, Schmukle, & Egloff, 2010).

When I was about sixteen, I met a guy whom I’ll call Jack. Jack was of average height, build, and intelligence. Pleasant and funny, but not exceptionally so in either case. We played basketball together on the JV team, where he occasionally managed to get into a game if it wasn't close. The lack of surface exceptionality mattered little to me, as this wasn’t how I chose my friends. But shortly after becoming acquainted with Jack, I realized that literally everyone loved this guy. It was like knowing a real-life Ferris Bueller. I didn’t think much about it at the time—there’s a lot happening in high school. But given my particular scholarly interests, I’ve thought a lot about him in the years since—what made this person special?

After meeting many people since and thinking about one specific thing that might set Jack apart, I settled on an answer: Jack possessed an irrational, contagious optimism. Jack saw possibilities everywhere. Where I—and many others—saw just another boring Friday night in suburbia, he always thought something big was just about to happen. The universe just needed you to ask for it. And he was always asking for it. What are you doing right now? Nothing. Ok, let’s go. Where? You can come here, then we figure it out. It’s Wednesday at 6. Three other people are already on their way. To do what? We’ll see! We have school tomorrow. Yeah, and Friday, so what?

I’m utterly flabbergasted by this orientation. Of course, psychologists know that optimism can be personally beneficial (Scheier, Carver, & Bridges, 2001). But this is something else, something rarer. Even in the face of a world that often fails to deliver even ardently expected magic, Jack was undeterred. It just hasn’t delivered yet. You have to always be setting the stage for the grand performance. Jack and I weren’t even that great of friends—he had so many—but I could still learn something from this attitude and how its outward behavioral manifestation impacts others.

2. Seek to Improve Situations

My next lesson in being liked came later, when I went to graduate school. My brief time in Iowa City exposed me to some truly singular characters, people from exotic places, who were into things like boxing, creative recreational drug use, and recording bespoke soul music (before everyone did this kind of thing). But among this group, the name on most people’s lips was Will, a rather vanilla character upon first glance. Will will know. I’ll ask Will. Let’s see what Will’s doing.

I knew Will. We shared a large office with the rest of these people. He seemed perfectly nice and normal. Yet he was referenced with reverence—universally. You could see the fluttering hearts among the women and the solemn respect among the men when they spoke of this guy who sat a few feet away from me. I would later come to understand that all of this was probably well-deserved in the traditional sense: he was smarter than us (in like, every subject), more talented than us (multi-instrumentalist!), and I would soon learn he could even beat me at basketball (unacceptable; inconceivable). But none of this was obvious immediately—you had to learn it over time. That’s not how the popularity happened, though. That was instantaneous. I would witness this years later when we worked together again. By then, I knew to expect it, and I knew all the reasons why one who actually knew this person would like them--but still not why it was a) everyone and b) right away.

I would only learn this because he told me. I’m socially awkward, but I’m not as gauche as to directly ask someone, “Hey—why does everyone think you—an apparently normal person—are so great without so much as an hour’s time spent?” Instead, it came out in one of our many conversations about things completely unrelated to this subject (which we have never and maybe would never discuss). In the course of one of these conversations, Will laid out a simple organizing behavioral principle of his, which I’ll paraphrase: What he tried to do was just make every situation he was in better, in the moment. What should I say or do right now? Well, what’s going to make this meeting less tense? Or what’s going to make this person feel better? What’s within my power, right now, to improve my surroundings? As soon as he said it, I got it. I could see it all. People don’t even know that what they’re seeing is an intentional, conscious choice. They will tell you they like Will because he is wise, caring, funny, circumspect, brilliant—all true. But the stranger likes him because when he is around, things are better. Why didn’t I come up with this? The short answer is because I’m not Will. But I am a psychologist, and Pavlovian principles of learning explain this behavior. Will makes himself a conditioned stimulus that reliably accompanies positive environments. Simple, powerful, effective.

3. Understand the Power of Time

The third and final strategy I’ve learned comes from someone I met shortly after I met Will. She has some natural advantages in popularity (e.g., being pretty and well-dressed), but that’s not why everyone likes her. The people who answer that question will, as was the case with Will, point to specific, real qualities that are certainly prized and valued: caring, selfless, clever, and reliable. Again, all true, but many people are those things, and those things are not always readily available to be seen by others. Here’s what makes her beloved: she has the power to see the future. No, she is not a witch. She doesn’t know the exact events that will unfold and in what order. What she knows is that strife passes (Bolger et al., 1989). And you think you know that—even I know that! But I rarely know that whilst experiencing the strife! This, too, shall pass are often words spoken about serious calamity, but it can be deployed in a microcosm to tremendous effect. When one of our children is throwing an incendiary tantrum (or someone is venting their frustrations to her as a human resources specialist), you will look over and see grace. Not from me. From me, you can see a boiling cauldron of righteous proactive parenting struggling to be unleashed, but from her, you see…nothing. Still waters.

She will tell me to calm down, and I will ask how does one not react this way? Because it solves nothing in the moment, and the moment is now over, and the next moment actually won’t be as tethered to this one as it feels right now. It’s going to pass. Forgive, and maybe more importantly, quickly forget whatever minor infraction has just occurred. It’s highly unlikely the offending party is going to carry it with them to your next meeting, and even if they do, you don’t have to.

I’m reminded of the Zen parable that I learned from one of my children’s books about two traveling monks who come across a nasty and imperious woman. One monk ends up carrying her across some mud, and some time later, the other one asks why they did that--given the woman's abhorrent behavior. To which the first monk responds “I set that woman down long ago, why are you still carrying her?” The irony in our house is that I love this story and use it all the time about big things, but I have yet to master its application to small things, which occur so much more often. Patience, grace, and forgiveness—psychologists also know of these benefits. I suppose the current framing would be that she is practicing non-judgmental acceptance of momentary negative affect (Blanke, Riediger, & Brose, 2018), or perhaps microdosing zen.

I’ve said nothing here that self-help books haven’t already said. You may, in fact, feel cheated that I just stole ten minutes of your life telling you things that you already knew. But my bad writing isn’t why I’m not popular. It’s because, as simple as these things—optimism, gestures of kindness, patience, and forgiving—may sound, they are actually quite difficult to consistently execute. At least I’ve found them to be so. But these people haven’t, and I’m not sure these are necessarily innate abilities. I think you can train yourself to do these things, but it takes mindfulness. This broaching of another memetic psychological concept is likely further contributing to my non-popularity. I hope these lessons from my friends help you on your journey in the opposite direction.

Back, M. D., Schmukle, S. C., & Egloff, B. (2010). Why are narcissists so charming at first sight? Decoding the narcissism–popularity link at zero acquaintance. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 98, 132-145.

Blanke, E. S., Riediger, M., & Brose, A. (2018). Pathways to happiness are multidirectional: Associations between state mindfulness and everyday affective experience. Emotion, 18, 202–211.

Bolger, N., DeLongis, A., Kessler, R. C., & Schilling, E. A. (1989). Effects of daily stress on negative mood. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 57, 808-818

Scheier, M. F., Carver, C. S., & Bridges, M. W. (2001). Optimism, pessimism, and psychological well-being. In E. C. Chang (Ed.), Optimism & pessimism: Implications for theory, research, and practice (pp. 189–216). American Psychological Association.

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