There’s nothing more disappointing than a bad high-five, even if you are only watching from the sidelines. Case in point: Ryan Seacrest’s humiliating performance on American Idol, when he held up his hand, realizing too late his blunder in attempting to high-five Scott MacIntyre, who is blind. Undaunted, Seacrest made a bad situation worse by committing the highest of high-five faux-pas: calling attention to the high-five before the high-five itself.
“I’m giving you a high-five,” he said as the crowd went silent, and he reached for the hand of the man who looked clearly pained in the knowledge that he was about to receive a bad high-five on national television, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The Seacrest incident illustrates a number of points about bad high-five form. First, there is body positioning. Usually, the problem is that the initiator of the high-five is far too close to generate sufficient momentum: there’s not enough high-five potential energy. Seacrest took it a step further by actually positioning himself at a right angle to MacIntyre. Bad form.
Next: use of the elbow. The full motion of a good high-five is much like throwing a ball—put your elbow into it. You need to go all the way with the high-five. Seacrest began with his arm at a right angle in front of him, as opposed to behind his head, and then extended with a weak wrist. The high-five was over before it began.
Finally, hand-eye coordination is key for obvious reasons. You may have fulfilled the first two requirements, but a failure to connect will result in a bad high-five. Hand-eye coordination will issue the right sound. Unacceptable sounds include: the sound of one hand clapping, the dull sound of you hitting your knee on a desk, or most sadly, the sound of silence.
You will know a good high-five when it happens from the pleasant sting on your hand and the delicate redness of the palms. You will inevitably want to ask: “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” At this moment, the high-five’s initiator can bask in the warmth akin to that of holding a puppy.
No matter what happens during the act, the responsibility for the high-five rests on the initiator. Once a high five has been put in motion, it cannot be stopped without losing one’s honour. The true first step of a high-five is making the call over whether to engage in the first place. It’s like stepping up to bat—you’re not going to swing unless you know you’re going to connect.
It’s for this reason that politicians don’t high-five. In order to make that call, you need to commit. A handshake, on the other hand, is a compromise. It’s easier to fake a good handshake—at least to the outside parties. High-fives are inherently transparent—they’re there for all to see, and it is for this reason we would like to see more high-fives in government.
Would you trust a politician with your puppy?
