Breaching Experiments in the Wild: How to Cause Social Chaos with Minimal Effort

Society operates on a thin, fragile layer of unspoken rules. You don’t stand facing the wrong way in a lift. You don’t high-five your doctor during a check-up. You don’t answer “How are you?” with anything other than “Fine, thanks”—even if your life is currently an absolute bin fire.

Most of us follow these rules without even thinking. They’re so deeply ingrained that breaking them—even in the mildest way—causes instant, visceral discomfort.

Harold Garfinkel, the sociologist who clearly thrived on human awkwardness, dedicated his career to poking at these invisible boundaries just to see what would happen. His famous breaching experiments involved deliberately violating social norms—things like acting like a stranger in your own home, haggling in supermarkets, or answering every question with another question—just to watch people’s deep, immediate panic when their expectations were shattered.

His work proves one thing: social life is built on a delicate web of silent agreements, and even the smallest deviation can send people into existential crisis. So, in the spirit of Garfinkel, let’s take a look at some of the simplest ways to cause absolute social chaos—without breaking a single actual law.

The Unforgivable Crime of Facing the Wrong Way in a Lift

Lifts are tiny, silent arenas of forced human cooperation. The rules are simple: enter, press your button, turn to face the doors, and pretend the other people in there do not exist.

But what happens if you turn around? Not subtly—fully, deliberately, so you’re staring at everyone else.

Immediately, you will see:

• Someone pretending they haven’t noticed (they definitely have).
• A few panicked eye-darts at fellow passengers to confirm that yes, this is weird.
• A sudden, overwhelming tension as everyone collectively questions reality.

Nobody will say anything, of course. That would be even more socially dangerous than whatever it is you’re doing. Instead, the group will endure the world’s most uncomfortable silence, held hostage in a metal box of quiet distress.

When the doors open, they will flee like they’ve just escaped a hostage situation.

Garfinkel would be proud.

The Tragedy of Walking at the Wrong Speed

Walking is a deceptively complicated social performance. There is an unspoken speed limit, and everyone is expected to obey it—except for the occasional chaotic outlier, like a child on a sugar high or an old man moving with the urgency of a slow-cooked brisket.

Try walking just slightly too fast—not running, but moving with just enough intensity that people assume you’re either being chased or urgently need a toilet. Watch as they subconsciously move aside, suddenly alert to your presence.

Alternatively, walk too slowly and become public enemy number one. You will hear the distinct sound of passive-aggressive foot shuffling behind you, an entire queue of commuters building up in silent rage, cursing your existence.

The real horror, though, is accidentally matching pace with a stranger. You didn’t ask for this. Neither did they. And now, somehow, you have both entered a socially enforced walking partnership.

No one acknowledges it. You both pretend it isn’t happening. One of you has to deliberately slow down or speed up to break free—but who will crack first?

It’s a silent war, and Garfinkel would have been fascinated.

The Existential Nightmare of Answering ‘How Are You?’ Honestly

The question “How are you?” is not actually a request for information. It’s a polite script—a formal exchange of meaningless words designed to maintain social order.

The correct response is “Fine, thanks. You?” It doesn’t matter if you’re fine or not. This is not the time for personal revelations.

Now, imagine breaking the script.

The next time someone says “How are you?”, try responding with:

• “Honestly? Bit of a crisis today.”
• “Hurtling towards burnout, but thanks for asking.”
• “Emotionally unstable, but otherwise thriving.”

Watch as their face freezes in horror. They weren’t prepared for this. You have forced them to engage with reality.

There are only two possible outcomes:

1. They panic and say “Oh… right!” before speed-walking away.
2. They mistakenly think you’re inviting an actual conversation. Now you’re trapped in a deep, unwanted emotional exchange in the queue for a Tesco meal deal.

Either way, society as we know it has been mildly shaken.

The Self-Checkout Psychological Experiment

Self-checkouts are meant to be a stress-free alternative to human interaction, but instead, they create new and innovative ways to experience public humiliation.

Try breaking the rules and handing your cash directly to the cashier standing next to the machine. Watch as they stare at you, momentarily confused about whether reality itself has shifted.

Or, instead of bagging your items immediately, pause after scanning each one. Just… hold it for a second.

• The machine will lose its mind.
• The security guard will start casually loitering.
• The people behind you will visibly vibrate with frustration.

At some point, a staff member will appear, looking deeply unimpressed, and press the magical button that makes the machine forgive you.

You have disrupted the system. The self-checkout has no power over you.

Holding the Door for Someone Too Far Away: A Social Minefield

The art of holding the door open is a delicate social contract. The unwritten rule is: only hold the door for someone at a reasonable distance.

So what happens if you break this?

Hold the door for someone just slightly too far away. Watch as they:

• Panic-jog towards you, unwillingly dragged into an awkward half-run.
• Visibly debate whether to call out “Go on ahead!” but then realise it’s too late.
• Arrive, out of breath, mutter a half-hearted “Thanks” and immediately resent both you and themselves.

You did nothing wrong, yet you have created mutual suffering.

Somewhere, Garfinkel is nodding approvingly.

The Accidental Social Crime of Saying Goodbye Too Soon

Saying goodbye is a one-time deal. You say it, you separate, you never see each other again (until the next unavoidable social event).

So what happens when you say goodbye, and then immediately walk in the same direction?

1. You both pretend this isn’t happening.
2. You try to make small talk to fill the awkwardness but end up making it worse.
3. One of you deliberately slows down to escape, but the other does the same, creating a tragic loop of social agony.

The only solution is to fake a sudden phone call or pretend to notice something very interesting in a shop window.

This is why humans weren’t meant to walk in groups.

The Art of Garfinkel

Garfinkel’s breaching experiments show us that most social norms are absurd, fragile, and entirely made up.

Even small rule-breaking—facing the wrong way in a lift, answering “How are you?” with honesty, or holding a door for too long—sends people into deep, visible distress.

And for that reason alone, he might be the most accidentally hilarious sociologist of all time.

So next time you want to inject a bit of harmless chaos into the world, just walk slightly too close to someone in a queue and watch them crumble.

You’re not being weird. You’re conducting science.

Please note: We will not be held responsible for the outcomes of anyone attempting these experiments. Try at your own risk!