Small talk in the elevator is, in this country, something like the final boss of social interaction. Not dramatic enough to be considered a real problem, but uncomfortable enough that people avoid it whenever possible. That’s no coincidence: In Germany, many people see small talk as a waste of time, as “empty chatter.” Better to say nothing at all than to stumble through comments about the weather, the weekend, and random niceties. Silence is golden – and often not embarrassing at all, just practical.

For me as a sinologist, shuttling between seminar room, library, and office, the elevator becomes a miniature stage for cultural comparison: What happens in those same ten seconds in Beijing, Tokyo, or Seoul?

Germany: Silence as the default, awkwardness as a side effect

You know the drill: in a German elevator there is an unspoken agreement – we pretend we’re alone. The rules are roughly as follows:

1. Direction of gaze: at the doors or at your phone.

2. Distance: as much as possible, even if the space is small.

3. Communication: if anything, a brief greeting – but no real conversation.

The reason? Many Germans experience small talk with strangers as artificial. Conversations are supposed to have “substance”; chatting about the weather is seen as silly, almost dishonest. That’s why the elevator usually stays comment-free. Not because people are unfriendly, but because the situation is so short that it is classified as “not worth talking about.”

It only becomes awkward when two codes collide:

Someone tries to break the silence (“Busy day in the building today, huh”), and the others respond with a half-hearted smile but no words. At that point it becomes clear: in Germany, not speaking is often socially less risky than saying the “wrong” thing.

China: The elevator as an extension of the street

Anyone who walks out of a German stairwell and into a Chinese apartment block or office tower experiences a kind of acoustic culture shock. The elevator in China is often not a quiet in-between space, but an extension of public life.

What stands out:

1. People push, call out, briefly negotiate who gets in or out first.

2. People enter while others are still exiting – to the horror of those used to “Western-style” order.

3. Conversations with companions simply continue, often loudly and very happily supported by mobile phones.

Sharing an elevator with strangers in China does not automatically mean that you have to talk to each other – but you can. In residential buildings, it is not unusual for neighbors to ask which floor you live on, where you’re from, or what you do for a living, or to make casual remarks: “Are you on your way to work too?” “You live on the 18th as well?” Such questions create openings for guanxi – relationships and networks that play a major role in everyday life in China.

Here, a different politeness code applies than in Germany:

Abruptly ending a conversation without any kind of closing remark (“I have to get out now, let’s talk another time”) can be perceived as rude. Communication is both more direct and more relational – even in the elevator.

So what would be considered intrusive in a German context (“So, where do you live?”) can in China be understood as entirely normal, genuinely interested curiosity.

Japan: Silence as politeness, not embarrassment

If Germany stays quiet in the elevator because small talk is exhausting, Japan stays quiet because consideration is a virtue. The Japanese elevator is therefore a highly codified space:

1. One person, usually the first to step in, automatically assumes the role of “elevator leader”: standing by the buttons, sometimes quietly asking which floor you need, pressing the buttons for everyone.

2. Everyone faces the doors, eyes straight ahead. Looking openly at the others quickly feels intrusive.

3. Conversations – especially loud ones – are undesirable. Public spaces in Japan are generally strikingly quiet; talking is often reduced to a minimum so as not to disturb anyone.

Silence here is not a gap that needs to be filled but a sign of respect. Anyone who chats loudly or talks on the phone in the elevator violates this tacitly accepted consideration.

From an intercultural perspective, this is fascinating:

In Germany, the elevator feels awkward because no one is talking – people sense the silence as social tension.

In Japan, the very same silence is ideal: everything runs smoothly, no one disturbs anyone else, everyone becomes “invisible” for a moment, and thus considerate.

So in both cultures, there is relatively little talk, but for completely opposite reasons. In Germany, because small talk is not highly valued; in Japan, because avoiding disturbance has top priority.

South Korea: Efficiency, hierarchy, and a “hello” at home

On the elevator spectrum, South Korea lies somewhere between China and Japan, with its own nuances. A few observations:

1. In many apartment buildings, it’s normal to greet each other briefly in the elevator – especially if you’ve seen each other several times. A short “annyeonghaseyo” when entering or exiting is part of the polite repertoire, or at least a nod.

2. At the same time, efficiency plays a major role: you are not automatically expected to hold the door for people rushing towards the elevator; on the contrary, holding it too long can disrupt the flow and annoy others.

3. As in Japan, hierarchies are visible: in offices, superiors and employees often ride together. Younger people tend to stand closer to the doors, hold the button if necessary, and leave the “better spot” to their seniors.

Small talk with strangers is rather rare, especially in professional settings. Conversations with colleagues often continue until the first “important” people enter – then the mood switches to more formal and quiet.

People greet each other politely – which can make them seem more approachable than many Germans in the elevator – but at the same time the space is strongly shaped by hierarchy and efficiency. Closeness and distance are negotiated in a matter of seconds.

The intercultural perspective – conclusion

The elevator is a wonderful place to observe how cultures deal with three constants:

1. Closeness – physical proximity to strangers

2. Time – only a few seconds, hardly any possibility to escape

3. Uncertainty – no one quite knows: talk? stay silent? look away?

Germany, China, Japan, and South Korea offer very different answers:

1. Germany: Silence out of pragmatism. Small talk is seen as superfluous; things only become awkward when someone violates this norm or visibly fails in trying to break it.

2. China: The elevator is just another public space. Noise, movement, spontaneous remarks are normal; politeness shows less in silence than in relational gestures and being open to connection.

3. Japan: The elevator is a space of consideration. Silence is politeness; clear, ritualized roles create order. Talking to strangers would be rather irritating.

4. South Korea: Polite greeting plus efficiency and hierarchy. People don’t talk much, but the social framework – who stands where, who presses which button for whom – is clearly structured.

Learnings:

1. Silence is not neutral.

   It can be awkward, polite, aggressive, or considerate – depending on the cultural context.

2. Small talk is not a universal lubricant.

   What in the United States is seen as the ultimate icebreaker can seem forced in Germany, disruptive in Japan, and relatively unimportant in China, where other forms of relationship-building matter more.

And perhaps you might pay attention during your next ride in the elevator at your institute in Germany. You could – theoretically – say something like: “You know, in Tokyo it would (also) just be completely quiet right now.”

And then just see what happens: awkward silence.
Or suddenly: a conversation.