How Are You?
Stop Asking “How Are You?” If You Don’t Mean It
Three words. Nine letters. And most of the time… we don’t mean it.
We say it in passing. In elevators. In hallways. On calls we’re trying to get off of.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Good—how are you?”
“Good.”
No pause. No answer. No intention.
Just noise.
But here’s what’s been sitting with me…
That question—when it’s real—has weight.
In Korea, there’s a phrase people have used for generations. I won’t attempt to pronounce it, because I respect it too much to get it wrong. But the meaning is simple:
“Have you eaten?”
Now that might sound like small talk… but it wasn’t.
After the Korean War—early 1950s—the country was devastated. Cities weren’t just “going through a hard time”; they were rubble. Whole neighborhoods flattened. Families split between North and South, sometimes not even knowing if their loved ones were alive. Fields, roads, and basic infrastructure were destroyed, and along with them, the food supply.
Lines for rations were long. Stomachs were empty. People went to bed not just worried about the future, but unsure about their next bowl of rice.
So when someone asked, “Have you eaten?”—they weren’t being polite.
They were asking:
Are you okay?
Are you surviving?
Do you need me?
And here’s the part that matters…
If the answer was “no”—you didn’t just nod and keep walking.
You shared what you had.
A small portion of rice. A bit of soup. Whatever was in your bowl.
Even if it wasn’t much.
Even if it meant you might not feel full yourself.
That question carried responsibility. It carried sacrifice. It carried, “If you haven’t eaten and I have anything, I will not let you stand in front of me hungry.”
It was a greeting, yes—but it was also a promise.
And when I think about that era—war-torn streets, uncertainty, people trying to rebuild with very little—it reminds me that behind every “Have you eaten?” was a quiet understanding: life is fragile, and we need one another to make it through.
Now fast forward to us.
We ask, “How are you?”—but we don’t carry the weight of the answer.
And if we’re honest… most of us aren’t prepared for a real response.
Because what if someone actually told you the truth?
“I’m not okay today.”
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
“I’m grieving.”
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“I’m hungry.”
“I need someone to talk to.”
“I don’t know how to be happy today.”
Now what?
Most people panic in that moment—not because they don’t care… but because they didn’t expect to have to.
We wanted “small talk,” not “real talk.”
And all of this is happening in a world where many people are quietly carrying the emotional weight of conflict, uncertainty, and instability—whether it’s news they scroll past, loved ones living in tense regions, or just the background stress of not knowing what tomorrow holds. Even if we’re far away from any battlefield, the echoes of hardship—financial, emotional, spiritual—still land in people’s bodies, minds, and homes.
So a simple “How are you?” might be touching a much deeper layer than we realize.
But here’s the truth:
If you’re not ready for the answer… don’t ask the question.
That’s not harsh—that’s honest.
Because a real question deserves a real presence.
Now let me take it one step further—especially for those of you leading organizations, teams, families…
C‑suite leaders, executives—you don’t get the luxury of empty questions.
When you ask your team, “How are you?”—you’re not just making conversation.
You’re setting culture.
Are you creating a space where people can answer honestly?
Or are you training them to say “I’m good” when they’re not?
Because people don’t burn out just from work.
They burn out from feeling unseen.
From feeling like their pain has to stay off-camera, off-agenda, and out of your line of sight.
And sometimes the difference between disengagement and loyalty…
is one leader who actually listens after asking the question.
Not to fix everything.
But to be present.
That’s it.
You don’t need the perfect answer.
You don’t need a five-step solution.
Sometimes the most powerful response is:
“I hear you.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re not alone in this.”
Scripture says in James 1:19:
“Be quick to listen, slow to speak…”
Not quick to fix.
Not quick to advise.
Quick to listen.
And Galatians 6:2 reminds us:
“Carry each other’s burdens…”
Not solve them all—carry them.
There’s a difference.
So now I’m challenging myself—and I’m inviting you into the same challenge:
Stop using “How are you?” as filler.
Use it as a doorway.
A doorway to connection.
A doorway to empathy.
A doorway to impact.
Use it the way “Have you eaten?” was used in those post‑war Korean streets—
as a question you are willing to back up with action, especially in a world where many people are already stretched thin by a visible war and invisible battles.
And when you ask it—pause long enough to receive the answer.
Even if it’s uncomfortable.
Even if it slows you down.
Even if it costs you something.
Because the smallest moment of genuine care…
can become the turning point in someone’s day—or their life.
So the next time you say it—
“How are you?”—
Mean it.
And be ready.
Not to have all the answers…
But to show up with presence, with compassion, and with the willingness to care.
That’s where the power is.
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Also be sure to check out the Making of a Strong Culture book that is helping leaders of corporations, organizations, churches and families build better teams.