I love gossip. Not the intriguing, reputation-ruining kind (I may look a bit like Blair Waldorf, but the similarity ends there), but the sort that adds a certain sparkle to our weekly catch-ups with friends. A little drama is delightful for a number of reasons. Firstly, there is the rush of amusement and surprise. Secondly, gossip can work as a strong social glue — especially when handled by skilled practitioners. Thirdly, it is essentially a form of entertainment that sits somewhere between horror films and roller coasters: empathy, adrenaline, goosebumps, and then the sweet relief of realising it was not your name in that particular spectacle of chaos.

Personally, I feel that gossip makes my life better. But is that truly the case?

Society has never really applauded gossip. Dignity, we are told, means minding your own business and keeping it to yourself. From Dante’s Beatrice to Rowling’s Bellatrix Lestrange, the literary canon loves to paint the gossiper as the villain: flawed, sinful, and generally horrid company. So where does the line fall between idle chatter and moral corruption?

Perhaps you think nobody cares about anyone else’s personal life. If that were true, Instagram would be a graveyard and tabloids would have gone extinct decades ago. In fact, studies suggest the opposite.

According to research from the University of California, Riverside, the average person spends 52 minutes every single day gossiping. More than 90 percent of people in workplaces in the United States and Western Europe indulge in it.

Most of it, however, is harmless. Only around 15 percent is considered “evaluative” (judgemental), while the rest is neutral chatter: “she is stuck late at work,” or “he had to go to the hospital.” Rather than destroying lives, this sort of chitchat can strengthen social bonds and help us learn how to navigate our communities.

When someone confides in you — whether it is positive, negative, or just mildly newsy — it builds intimacy. Studies show that sharing gossip increases liking for the person who spills it. Gossip also teaches us whom to trust and whom to avoid, while nudging everyone to follow group norms (no more banana peels in the paper bin, please).

Other research suggests gossip can sharpen survival skills in the modern office jungle: knowing who might quit, who secretly runs the show, and who is an ally can be invaluable. Even empathy can be enhanced. Hearing that a colleague who is always late is going through a divorce might change irritation into compassion.

So far, so wholesome.

Alas, gossip has an ugly twin.

Gossip, then, is a double-edged sword. Whether it heals or harms depends on motives, context, and the trust between gossiper, listener, and subject.

So, to avoid the harmful consequences, answer to yourself these questions:

Would your friendship collapse if the person in question overheard you? And would you be brave enough to say the same words to their face? If the first answer is no and the second yes, then perhaps you are safe. If not, maybe put the kettle on instead.

Also: keep your audience in mind. Your partner, sibling, or closest confidant? Fine. That vague acquaintance at a party? Dubious at best, reputation-ruining at worst.

So, is gossip good for your mental health? The answer is both yes and no. It can entertain, bond, and inform. But it can also wound, distort, and destroy. Gossip is, in essence, a mirror: it reveals more about the teller than the tale.

The rumour has it, STR has its own app now. Download it to have a break from gossiping in favour of some truly good music.