Seeing each other first, before seeing our roles

Recently, I met a suave young lady — a style consultant — over a coffee. It was a meeting that had been planned as part of a writing assignment, which is presently on pause. Given that the professional need to meet her wasn't pressing, I could have let the proposed engagement lapse into silence. But I chose to keep the appointment, because in my theory of relativity, connection need not be purely transactional, with a constant “what's in it for me?” hovering over every social interaction.

This idea may appear anomalous in a world that glorifies networking, where every shared space becomes a venue for business-oriented exchange. It might also go against the conventional wisdom on how to gather “useful” people in our lives. I deviated from those norms simply because I admired her work. Meeting her was my way of saying, “I honour you and your business.” The premise was clear to both of us: we were meeting as two individuals, not as a journalist and an entrepreneur.

The meeting was stripped of the formality and performance that might otherwise have crept in had we met for business. We had no reason to impress or inflate our images. We were simply two women peeling back the layers of life, taking a rare peek at who we were without labels or titles. I listened to her speak about her work with genuine interest, grasping the nuances and making mental notes for personal practice. When we parted, we knew we had struck a chord that would resonate for a long time.

For as long as I can remember, I have believed that no human transaction is complete unless it is anchored in the heart. For me, the acronym B2B has plastic connotations and little emotional bearing. It sounds as though two machines with push buttons are bargaining. B2C feels marginally better, yet still falls short of what it should be — P2P, person to person. My argument is against the double standards we maintain in human relations.

Why must we rely on clever tactics and curated strategies to connect with others, turning relationships into arid alliances where the primary aim is tangible gain? We have become too civil to allow genuine emotion into our collaborations, because in commercial culture, business is equated with returns. We collude when it serves our immediate interest — often in the most cosmetic way.

Is it truly difficult to build enduring liaisons in our professional lives — bonds not bound to time-specific objectives or narrow windows of monetary gain, but grounded in the belief that if we walk together, one day we may genuinely help one another, as co-workers, as business partners, as human beings? Let's admit it: the polish we display in our networking rituals has become too artificial for comfort. In private, we wince at the shallowness of it, yet we cling to these habits because intimacy feels risky. It lowers our defences and makes exploitation easier. We would rather behave like robots than humans.

Can we not introduce a touch of bona fide warmth that transcends the textbook rules of corporate culture, holding space for each other simply because we are in this material mess together? As they say, after the game is over, the king, the queen, the pawns, the bishop, the knights, and the rook all go back into the box.

The writer is a Dubai-based author, columnist, independent journalist and children’s writing coach ; views are personal