Miss, Manners

I failed to mention that I, too, was one of the many up in the middle of the night on a recent Saturday, reading the words of a favorite English author. Only I was reading her stuff. I was reading from Lynne Truss' Talk to the Hand, a glorious little tome from the author of my favorite grammar reference, Eats, Shoots & Leaves. This time, instead of taking on misuse of the comma, she challenges the misuse of manners and addresses (per the book's subtitle) "the utter bloody rudeness of the world today, or six good reasons to stay home and bolt the door."

I'd love to quote pages upon pages of her work to show her brilliance, but ultimately, I just keep circling through work back to Lewis' haunting question: "Why is it that we don't like to do what others ask of us?" It's not exactly the direction her book leads (she goes on and on about how companies impose on us more and more each day) but in a similar vein of "the world of shared values, rules and manners."

It seems to me that we've really been dealing with this issue since Day One — even in a purely literary sense, the writings in Genesis from Adam and Eve on forward are about consequences for not following rules (whatever the source) or rewards for following them. "Play by a common rulebook" is drilled in through allegory, story and (supposed) experience.

While Truss' book illustrates that what she calls the "Eff Off" response is cross-cultural, it seems to me to almost be a defining part of the American experience. I mean, the country was established when the locals rebelled against the rules of the day, telling the ruling power to, in effect, Eff Off (couched in the language of the day as "Don't Tread On Me"). Perfected in the Hollywood persona of John Wayne's attitude, and carried on today couched in a perfectly acceptable "not in my backyard" attitude, we're taught that, if nothing else, we're all but guaranteed the right to be belligerent, stubborn, and above all else, self-preserving. My domain (personal space or property) is mine, and I'll do all I can to protect my territory (like a wild animal).

Of course, to some extent, perhaps that's Darwinism at work. "Survival of the fittest" might sometimes merge with "he with the most toys wins." Even when resources aren't truly scarce, hoarding can give some a sense of satisfaction, even when it means dodging the rules. And ironically, those of us who lose out can be tricked into respecting the hoarders. Why else would someone like The Trump amass a real estate empire and yet become a pop-culture phenomenon by being overly brash on prime-time TV?

Concepts of the rules and of personal space are widely situational, aren't they? I'd be shocked beyond measure if a guy just randomly sat down at my table in a restaurant, but I'm not surprised (pissed off, but not surprised) when he shoves his Hummer in front of my little Scion in traffic just because he can. And let's not even go into the world of road rules except to query: why is it okay and almost expected behavior to barrel down the road regardless of speed limit but not okay to create a new lane in traffic along the shoulder? Simple answer: because everyone seems to do the former, while the latter implies that the "creative" driver feels their sense of urgency is greater and their destination more important than anyone else's on the road. That driver got just a bit too greedy.

I'm sure that to others I can be just as self-centered as anyone I've described here … but as I write it I also think: I'm generally a rule-follower, and I generally try to "leave a small footprint" and not impact others too much more than necessary.

How about you? What's your take on the concept, reader?