How to Overcome Social Anxiety | Dr. Nick Epley

Social anxiety is fixable when we swap pretend reps for the real thing. Go do the exact social move you fear, get actual feedback, and your beliefs about other people recalibrate fast.

Welcome to the Uberman Lab podcast, where we explore science and tools for daily life. Today we go beyond close relationships to the small, everyday exchanges that power mental and physical health, and we dive into assumptions we make about others, online and off, plus how Dr. Nick Eppley’s life and research on social connection inform all of it.

We often assume we know what others or even animals think, yet we barely track our own thoughts. Why do we anthropomorphize people, and when does it help or harm us?

We’re mind-readers by necessity. Inferring beliefs and goals lets us explain behavior now and predict what comes next, and while we miss sometimes, it beats flying blind.

When we judge others, are we keying off behavior, or off what they seem to be paying attention to?

It depends on context. With no person present, we use ourselves as a model. With some info, we lean on group beliefs. Face-to-face, behavior dominates. Each route adds accuracy and error—egocentrism, stereotyping, and the tendency to map simple intentions straight onto actions, known as correspondence bias.

I see eyes as a window into intention. When we can see gaze, do our judgments improve?

Yes. Humans are exquisitely tuned to eyes and voice. In social IQ tasks, toddlers outperform chimps and orangutans because they track gaze and infer intent, which lets us anticipate actions before they happen.

What does voice really carry, especially when we lack prior exposure to someone?

Voice reflects live thought and feeling—pace, pitch, variability signal a working mind. In work with Julianna Schroeder, just hearing political opponents made them seem more thoughtful and human than reading their words alone.

I’ve heard claims that tone beats words. That sounds like pop psychology.

Words matter, but voice adds the proof of mind. In elevator-pitch studies, listeners rated candidates as smarter and more capable when they heard them rather than read the same content. Text strips away the very cues that signal thinking.

As AI adds voices and avatars, could that improve social understanding compared to text?

If synthetic voices sound human, people will trust and anthropomorphize them more, which can aid practice and support, but it could also divert us from real human ties.

With more video and speech from public figures than ever, are we getting better at judging them?

Not necessarily. People are ambiguous stimuli. My-side bias means we can read the same clip in opposite ways, so more data does not guarantee better judgment.

Let’s flip from under-socialization harms to the upside of any social contact. Is texting with a friend better than being alone?

Going from no contact to some contact is the big jump. Daily well-being is much worse after a day alone than with others, by a wide margin in Gallup data. Texting helps maintain bonds, but calls and in-person time build depth; our brains evolved for rich social coordination, and loneliness hits physiology hard.

I like occasional solitude, but too much can feel strange. Is there evidence isolation distorts our sense of self?

Solitary confinement research and classic ‘looking-glass self’ ideas point the same way. We learn who we are through others’ responses, which is why romanticized isolation often unravels people despite the allure.

On social media, provocation seems to be a shortcut to feeling seen. Is that just a warped bid for connection?

Conversation feels good because it’s responsive. That back-and-forth synchrony tells us our thoughts land, which is the healthy version of action at a distance.

Artists still tour to feel that loop with the crowd. What are the core pieces that make human social connection work?

Connection serves coordination. Our superpower is cooperating with non-kin, which lets groups achieve more than any lone individual ever could.

Are we hardwired to favor kin more than non-kin, given adoption feels fully familial?

Roles are powerful. When we decided to adopt, our perception shifted instantly, and love followed the role of parent, not genetics. People routinely care beyond kin, as shown by generosity in economic games and real-world giving.

In some cultures, people go out only with preexisting friends. Is reluctance with strangers about safety or just unfamiliarity?

Much of it is uncertainty. We prefer the familiar because it feels safer, and norms around politeness can make approaching strangers feel improper.

I worry that lost manners removed easy on-ramps to deeper talk.

Manners are habits, but signals like phones and earbuds now read as do-not-disturb. What looks like rudeness might be a bid to avoid intruding, which complicates things.

People fear being creepy or rejected. Can we just open conversations more often?

We consistently underestimate others’ interest in talking and misread silence as disinterest. When I asked my driver, with care, about his experience of the conflict in Iran, he shared deeply; the moment was brief, real, and meaningful.

That was a short exchange, not a lasting bond.

Well-being is built from moments. Look for small chances to brighten them—ask, notice, compliment—and string those better minutes into better days.

Even a fist bump or a shout-out over a band tee can create instant kinship.

Those sparks can lift how we feel about people in general. A kind word about red glasses changed someone’s day; a chat with Gustavo on the train left me optimistic about young people.

Public-facing life reduces anonymous, casual ties. Are some folks simply happier keeping to themselves?

Across cultures, extraversion correlates strongly with day-to-day positive emotion, and asking people to act more outgoing boosts mood whether they are introverted or not. It is like exercise—most of us feel better when we do a bit more of it.

What about social anxiety—are there gentler entry points, like dogs?

Props like a dog or even an old-school cigarette once did can create a natural excuse to talk, which lowers the first-step barrier.

Props and rituals like sharing a light or a dog walk can soften first contact, but the real fix for social anxiety is exposure in the real world. When you actually engage, your beliefs about how people respond shift, and that change in belief is what eases the fear.

That reframing surprised me in a good way. It is not numbing anxiety; it is learning people are kinder than we predict.

Take Jia Jiang’s 100 days of asking for wild favors to court rejection; he was accepted more often than not and negativity was rare. This matches research on underestimating compliance and how helping feels good to helpers; he was not pushy, just open to alternatives, and his fear gave way to a more generous view of others.

Many fear seeming creepy or too persistent; small misreads of gaze or a third unanswered text can tip into sticky. Safety matters, and that concern is often sharper for women.

Be sensitive and start small, because these are learnable skills, including bowing out when someone is too sticky. I treat outreach as an invitation, test ambiguous cues, and assume my first read might be wrong; a man with earbuds became a close friend after a simple hello, and many supposed walls turn out to be easy to pass through.

People seem to be returning to shared spaces—churches, sauna circles, group breathwork—after so much time indoors. You mentioned family; would you share the adoption story you hinted at?

Years ago, we learned mid‑pregnancy that our daughter had Down syndrome; families we called repeatedly described their kids as a blessing, then we lost her to stillbirth, and it was devastating. Later, my wife asked about adopting a child with Down syndrome; my own data on how connection surprises us nudged me from doubt to yes, and bringing Lindsay home from China has been hard and wildly joyful—her fearless hellos light up rooms and she draws our whole family into tighter orbit.

Your openness about all of this radiates zero shame, which I find powerful and the opposite of some sad examples I have seen.

I still wrestle with expectations as a parent; one son left college for a trade and he is thriving, which taught me to love the kid in front of me, not the script in my head. With Lindsay, we even joke she is our unicorn, and a group of unicorns is called a blessing, which fits.

How should bystanders respond when a child’s behavior in public is atypical or disruptive?

Patience helps, much like with stuttering: wait, do not spotlight it, and let the moment resolve. If you know the family or it is appropriate, ask gently how you can be helpful.

For those of us modeling behavior for younger folks, what habits matter most?

Build tiny, reliable habits because people notice your defaults; I do a hello walk from the door to my office, head up, smiling, greeting colleagues by name. I also mind my temper and language so I do not teach the wrong lesson by accident.

I use classroom rules online to keep exchanges respectful and educational, and I block what I would never allow in a seminar.

Exactly—small routines carry big weight over time.

You also live outside a lot. Tell us about that elk trip with your son.

I grew up hunting and caring for the land, and last fall my son and I backpacked into Oregon for elk; a group of camo‑clad strangers appeared and we chose to engage rather than avoid. They shared local wisdom, welcomed us into a warm camp with genuine hospitality, we helped process an elk, and we have stayed in touch—a perfect example of how reaching out makes a great experience even richer.

I appreciate the ethical frame you brought to hunting, which many misunderstand.

Responsible hunters care deeply about habitat and humane harvests; I use a crossbow for accuracy and see the outing as community and stewardship more than a tally.

Nick, thank you for today and for your book, A Little More Social: How Small Choices Create Unexpected Happiness, Health and Connection. Your work keeps pointing to the same truth you live by: the good stuff often hides in the interactions we hesitate to start.

Thank you, Andrew. It was a joy to be here, and I would love to come back.

Thanks for listening, and thanks for caring about science.