west coast courtesy
West Coast Courtesy is a misleading cultural phenomenon.
Ever meet someone in California who says they love you after you just met? Or one who enthusiastically says they want to hang out but never calls?
On the surface, these seem pretty benign. But here's the kicker: the West Coast has a culture of expressing positivity while feeling otherwise.
The friend you just met at a festival—high or not—who tells you they love you isn’t going to show up when things are tough. Maybe I’m just particular about the word love. When they say it, they mean they enjoy partying with you right now or that they had a fun conversation in the moment. Maybe they want to sleep with you. Spoiler alert: they don’t love you. Sorry.
The new connection who tells you they feel like a kindred spirit and insists on hanging out soon? You’re probably not on their priority list—unless, of course, you offer some sort of advantage, like a job, financial opportunity, or social access. They express interest, but that interest rarely translates into follow-through.
Why Is This a Thing?
Life is busy. I get it It’s hard to carve out time for friendships as adults, especially in a society that doesn’t prioritize community. I’m not here to play bitter-Betty—acceptance is better than blind resistance. But there’s more to it.
Here’s my take: this culture of disingenuous courtesy persists because it’s socially advantageous. Leaving people feeling positively about you—even if it’s confusing—leads to more social mobility. You can navigate social circles more easily, invite people to events when it benefits you, or call them when you need something. Even if you’re not a fan, pretending to be is strategic.
Bleak? Maybe. But I think it’s mostly unconscious. The grind of hustle culture and the pressure to “make it” often frame relationships through a lens of utility first and humanity second. Don’t hate the players, hate the game.
The Precarious Nature of Feedback
Here’s where it gets tricky: giving and receiving feedback in this culture is delicate.
Let’s say I sit in on a gig and don’t perform well. I want feedback. But West Coast Courtesy gets in the way. Fellow musicians won’t critique me—they’ll just say, “Beautiful playing, thanks for joining us,” and then never call again.
When I have to give feedback, it’s equally sensitive. Asking a musician to adjust their playing, especially if it involves skill-building, risks bruising egos. Even with careful words, you might lose a collaborator. No wonder people avoid giving feedback.
What Can We Do About It?
Baby steps.
I don’t have all the answers, but I feel called to try two things:
- Deliver feedback honestly and respectfully, even when it’s hard. If people leave, that’s okay. Trust that the right fit will come along.
- Ask for feedback. Knowing this culture, people still might not deliver, but asking is a step in the right direction.
We can glorify these small actions as acts of cultural rebellion. How does that sound?
Next time you encounter West Coast Courtesy, ask yourself: how might you subvert it? What can you do to make our culture more honest while still being respectful? Together, maybe we can create a real shift over time.