I was a little skeptical last month when I read about a groundbreaking moment in the history of handshaking. A study out of the University of Manchester purported to reveal the mathematical formula for the perfect handshake. Taking into account 12 variables such as duration, vigor and eye contact, scientists announced an equation that would look more at home on a whiteboard at NASA:
PH = √ (e2 + ve2)(d2) + (cg + dr)2 + π{(4<s>2)(4<p>2)}2 + (vi + t + te)2 + {(4<c>2 )(4<du>2)}2
When gleeful media outlets reported the story as the first-ever use of science in the quest for the perfect handshake, I felt a certain twinge of resentment. You see, I may with all humility claim a greater degree of practical expertise than the learned Mancunian professors.
Last year, I set out to break the Guinness World Record for “Longest Continuous Handshake.” It was folly, really—right up there with goldfish swallowing as the sort of pure lark that society only indulges in the young. The current record stood at more than 10 hours; the equivalent of a flight from Sydney to Tokyo.
It was the perfect record to beat. It didn’t require specialized skills, like “Most Arrows Caught by Hand in 2 Minutes.” It wasn’t dangerous, like “Chainsaw Juggling: Most Catches,” and it needed no exotic setting, like “Fastest Pogo Stick up the CN Tower.” Doing something that everyone can relate to would be free, too.
With a college friend, George Posner, I began to practice. We experimented with our grip, working up to longer and longer periods of continuous shaking. Soon, we could manage a walk off campus, have dinner at a nearby Greek restaurant, and walk back—shaking hands without a second’s pause. Oh, the strange looks we got from passersby!
Read the full story at the Wall Street Journal.
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