A new exhibition on the Central line explores the theme of being nice – but is it a lost sentiment in modern-day London? ?
What's the most recent kind act you did on the Tube? Think hard. It's difficult, isn't it? The survival-of-fittest mentality, the pretending-you're-somewhere-else mindset doesn't seem to really allow for good-natured acts. But they do exist. My latest was to rustle up a seat for a heavily pregnant woman on a crowded carriage, although it did almost backfire.
"How far have you got to go?" I asked after seeing her being bumped for the umpteenth time. She looked at me suspiciously, as if I was some weirdo interested in strange women's pregnancy terms. After a quick clarification, she revealed she had seven stops to go.
It's harder than you think to shame a group of coke-addled City types into giving up their comfort for the good of the next generation, but after a loud "any of you boys want to give up your comfortable seat for a pregnant woman?" one finally relented. The woman looked grateful.
I imagine she mouthed a 'thank you' but I was already gone, off to continue my mission as champion of good ?deeds on public transport.
According to artist Michael Landy, I'm not alone in my crusade. However, not many realise the extent of unselfishness of the underground, leading Landy to create ?the exhibition Acts of Kindness on London's Central Line.
It involves sharing the stories of everyday commuters who have been part of – either giving, receiving or witnessing – acts of empathy on the underground system.
"You can feel very alienated," Landy says of the Tube. "It's a dog-eat-dog kind of place at times. It's good to put something positive in amongst all that. And once you start to notice kind acts you see a lot more of them."
After famously destroying everything he owned (including his passport) as part of a 2001 exhibition, Breakdown, Landy became intrigued with the other side of identity – compassion, generosity and connection to others.
His definition of kindness is thus: going beyond yourself to acknowledge someone else’s needs and feelings. He says being kind to a stranger involves sharing a sense of connection with someone you don’t know.
"It’s a gesture of trust between two people," he says. "There’s a risk in that. They may just ignore you or take ?it the wrong way. It requires courage and acceptance on both sides."
He admits creating a major change in the mindset of Londoners is probably unachievable, but he is compelled to try. "I find it's life-enhancing when you witness or take place in an act of kindness so that's what I'm trying to celebrate."
TfL Art On The Underground curator and London's School of Life founder faculty member Cathy Haynes's most recent exposure to kindness was while scribbling notes en route to ?a lecture about, you guessed it, kindness.
When the pencil she was using snapped, a fellow commuter leaned over to offer her another, completely unaware of what the topic was.
"It was a really delightful thing," Haynes says.
However, she warns, it's best to pick and choose your moments. People not used to kindness, those commuters desensitised to the alien atmosphere the Tube has bred, can view it with suspicion.
"People may feel uncomfortable and you have to pitch it right," Haynes says. "Sometimes you have to make a judgement call – on the tube or in any part of life."
But that's not to say you shouldn't try, she says.
Her favourite tale to emerge from the exhibition is one of someone suffering from depression, riding the Tube and noticing another passenger folding a piece of paper.
When the folder got up to leave, they dropped a small origami horse in the depressed person's lap. "The recipient was touched and felt a ray of hope enter their life," ?Haynes says.
It's the sort of act that warms writer Danny Wallace's heart. The 34-year-old is something of a kindness expert himself, having written the 2004 novel Random Acts Of Kindness: 365 Ways to Make The World A Nicer Place. He describes such acts as being part of a "pyramid scheme of niceness."
"They're an incredible trade you can make with strangers, in which both parties benefit. You make them happy, you walk away happier," he says. "That's how they spread. And if they spread, then more people's worlds are made better."
Wallace is firmly in Landy's camp when it comes to trying to breach the steely veneer of Tube riders. He'd relish being in a train carriage where people acknowledge their fellow passengers' existence.
"We generally don't want to talk, or even look at each other, because it feels illegal," Wallace says.
"But it's allowed. And looking out for each other isn't a sign of kindness, I'd argue – it's a sign of humanity. It's a sign of a world we all want to live in, so why not just help make it happen?"
Wallace, whose simple philosophy has gained him an army of followers – dubbed The Karma Army – says he will never surrender in his battle to have kindness pervade London – and beyond.
"Some people do stop trying. But there will always be others who don't. You can have a world with hope or you ?can have a hopeless world. Society can do one thing, but ?it's the individuals that make the difference."
And while he may sound like a human motivational calendar, it's a philosophy that is paying off. In December, his Karma Army will come together for the 10th Karmageddon – a London gathering where the Army conducts random acts of kindness, then goes the pub and gets drunk.
"That's my kind of society," Wallace says.
As for Landy, he will continue harvesting the tales of selflessness arriving daily in his inbox. He expects their ?volume to grow as commuters latch on to the idea.
"I don't want people singing songs and holding hands and clapping tambourines," he says. "Hopefully people will just become a bit more aware of the environment that they're in … and the effect they can have."
What's the kindest thing you have seen, carried out or witnessed ?while travelling on the Tube? Send your heartwarming stories to TNT – ?letters@tntmagazine.com – and we'll submit them to TfL and they ?could appear on the Central line.
