Whatever happened to the handshake as a form of social behaviour, wonders Jim Bright.

In a world where hand cleansers rule, the humble handshake gets a bad press. We have entered confusing and paradoxical times. On the one hand, we administer large doses of antibacterial glop to ensure we do not succumb to “germs”, while with the other we embrace our work colleagues in a matey, uninvited and unwelcome hug. Modern work is an uneasy alliance of insincere intimacy and sterility.

It is hard to pinpoint when the hug became an acceptable form of expressing admiration but, like an ageing rock star, it probably had its roots in the 1960s. Emotional honesty and letting it all hang out like a well-fed naturist on a warm day became de rigueur. Miles Davis, who had blown his trumpet more than adequately for a decade decided, like Dylan, he needed amplification. The whole world needed to amplify whatever it was trying to communicate.

In this world of amplification we suffered emotional inflation. We discovered that feelings were not restricted to the bike sheds and bushes, we had to show them, express them and have them considered by others. The handshake no longer cut the mustard; now we were obliged to be held in bear hugs by malodorous, halitosis-ridden colleagues so that they could demonstrate their insincere affection and regard for you.

The emotional repertoire became polarised. The handshake was deemed offhand; now the only way to demonstrate our regard for Jones from Accounts was to initiate foreplay with them, to invade their personal space sweating and breathing all over them. Regard and respect were replaced with love and trust. Anything other than unconditional love for the remuneration manager risked allegations of being difficult.

Work has increasingly become a contact sport. Avoiding hugs and kisses is increasingly difficult. Emotional incontinence is encouraged – gushing is the new handshake. This luvvie behaviour that one could avoid by not indulging in membership of an amateur dramatics society, was suddenly thrust upon the rest of us in a particularly galling manner.

The monocular notion that emotion can be conveyed only by overt acts may well apply to hams trying to convey emotion to an audience sitting up to 50 metres away, but is it necessary with a colleague sitting on the other side of the office divider? Small intimate gestures such as sharing your pencil sharpener or being jocose about a memorandum concerning the recording of photocopying once were the cement of a solid relationship. Now one must embrace work colleagues as though they have just bought a ticket on the Titanic after you have read a book about icebergs.

Of course this hugging is overdone and insincere. Dogs know where they stand regarding hugging: they don’t like it. They interpret it for the dominance behaviour that it often is with humans. Anyone who has shared the ghastly experience of a colleague approaching, arms akimbo, saying “hug” will be forgiven for wondering whether they are drunk or whether the fire exit is locked. How do you not comply with this coercive behaviour? “No thank you” or “kindly let go of me” are likely to be interpreted so negatively that we succumb to this behaviour.

Often one suspects the hug is used as a way of stymieing debate or dissent. There are many forms of physical contact that are proscribed in the workplace and deemed forms of harassment and bullying. Yet the hug seems to be an exception to these rules of etiquette.

Surely we are adults at work who have the felicity to express their emotions appropriately and are capable of expressing a more nuanced and sensitive emotional repertoire. Physically embracing a person at work is not the only or necessarily best or welcome way to communicate regard and support.

I think we can shake on that.

Jim Bright is professor of career education and development at ACU and a partner at Bright and Associates.