The march of self-service checkouts in our stores continues apace, with the exception of Booths, a northern supermarket chain which announced last week that it was removing the machines from all but two of its stores.
Elsewhere, shoppers are promised greater speed and efficiency, and supermarket bosses reassure us that former checkout staff will be deployed throughout the store, patrolling the aisles and available to offer a helping hand to harassed customers. But it is now a perfectly normal experience to go to a supermarket and not to have any contact with the staff; self-checkouts have eradicated the all-important social interaction provided by friendly cashiers.
We’re told that for some lonely people, a brief exchange about the weather, weekend plans, exotic foodstuffs, rising prices and so on is the only social contact that they enjoy all week. Even for those of us who are lucky enough to have busy, sociable lives, a brief conversational exchange with a stranger will provide a boost to our spirits. It is positive, reassuring and, above all, it is polite. It might persuade you to crack a smile, to pause for a moment as you frantically bag up your goods; it will make you feel like an agreeable human being, rather than a frazzled automaton.
We all bemoan the drawbacks of self-checkouts: the “unexpected object in the bagging area”, the scales that don’t work, the codes that won’t scan, the alcohol and paracetamol that must be verified by a sales assistant. Frequently, we end up calling for assistance more than once during the whole experience. Older people, in particular, are confused and flustered by the technology; many of them find it a daunting challenge and bemoan the lack of helpful checkout staff.
But when we do finally summon a real human being, the interaction is inevitably utilitarian. We are annoyed because our check-out process has been stalled, and if we’re stressed or under time pressure, we might be rude and peremptory. The assistant has been called over to perform a specific function, not to engage in an enjoyable chat, and the encounter has zero social value.
It must be trying for the shop assistants too, who find their encounters with customers being reduced to snappy, irritable exchanges over an obstinately malfunctioning scanner. It is surely a much more attractive prospect to sit at a till, helpfully performing a function for shoppers, looking them in the eye, exchanging greetings and pleasantries.
Supermarkets all over Britain are reporting an alarming rise in shoplifting. While austerity is an obvious explanation, some storeowners are beginning to recognise that the de-humanising experience of the self-checkout, the glitches, the confusion, the lack of supervision, all make shoplifting considerably easier. Aggrieved and frustrated shoppers who can’t make a scanner work are increasingly likely to sidestep the whole scanning exercise and feelings of guilt will be considerably assuaged by the fact that they have not had a single interaction with a human being since entering the store.
Earlier this year rail companies proposed to remove manned ticket offices from most stations, unleashed a public outcry and were forced to reverse the policy. Many older passengers argued that they would find an entirely automated ticket transaction extremely challenging, while passengers with additional needs or those who were contemplating complex journeys contested the decision because they felt that helpful and sympathetic station staff were uniquely able to navigate and interpret the complexities of the system and find a pragmatic solution.
As with supermarkets, the proposal also carried a hidden cost, in that it deprived rail-users of an agreeable social encounter. Regular travellers, nervous passengers, older rail users who find travelling stressful, all confirmed that a friendly human interaction with a ticket-office clerk was an effective way of assuaging their anxiety and made the whole journey much more civilised and palatable. When it comes to reassuring interactions, listening skills and empathy, human beings trump machines every time.
In the past, running errands – such as going to the shops, the library, the bank, or purchasing a ticket from the local railway station – might have been slow, and was possibly inefficient, but above all it was a sociable experience. Greetings were exchanged with serving staff, small talk sometimes ensued, and a feeling of belonging to a human community was reinforced. We are beginning to lose access to these mundane social contacts and that loss comes at a price, reinforcing feelings of isolation and loneliness.
It’s party season and now is the time to brush up your social skills. The ability to make smooth and courteous introductions will help ensure that parties go with a swing. If you are a host, introducing your guests to each other is a good way of launching them into the social maelstrom. If you are already in a conversational group and are joined by a friend or acquaintance, introducing them to everyone else will ensure that they feel fully embraced and are not left to loiter, unacknowledged, on the periphery. Finally, if you’re working the room and boldly approaching strangers, then you will certainly need to introduce yourself, which is a perfect icebreaker.
In days gone by, when people moved in smaller social circles, it was considered almost rude to make introductions (although at formal occasions names would be announced), as it could imply a person was an outsider if they did not already know the other guests. This is no longer the case, and it is now more polite to over-introduce than to assume people know one another.
As the person making the introduction you should make sure you have the attention of both parties, but avoid steering them physically, for example with a hand on the shoulder. Wait for an appropriate moment and do not interrupt the conversation or force the person you wish to introduce on to the person you would like them to meet.
It was traditional to signal precedence and respect by the name that was said first (the person addressed in the introduction) and courtesy gave honour to those who were female, older or more distinguished.
Thus, men should be introduced to women: “Charlotte, may I introduce John Cavendish? John, this is Charlotte Berkeley”. In the same way, younger people are introduced to their elders or junior employees to more senior people, such as directors (“Mr Goodman, may I introduce our new research team member, Tommy Dorsey?”). Husbands and wives should be introduced separately by name (“Richard and Kate Mortimer”), not as “the Mortimers”.
If you suspect that people are likely to have met before, you may want to say: “Charlotte, I am sure you know John Cavendish?”.
You may wish then to add a short explanation or provide some information: “John is a wine expert”, or “Charles has just moved back to London from Dubai”. You might even be able to find a little nugget of common ground – “I know you are both tennis fans” – which might act as a launchpad for a conversation.
Traditionally, it was considered helpful to give both first name and last name, as it provides more information, which is the object of the exercise. In more informal situations, you might decide to dispense with surnames, and it is quite acceptable to do so.
Bear in mind that introductions should help people to decide what mode of address to use. If you know someone very well, and use a nickname, it is more helpful to introduce your friend by the name the other person may be expected to use.
If you’re in a group and are approached by an individual you know, you should introduce them to the group first, and then the group to the individual. For example: “Clare, this is James, Daniel and Anna. Everyone, this is Clare. You can gesture, or nod, towards the relevant person to add clarity. Unless the occasion is formal there’s no need to mention surnames, and with long lists of names it can become too cumbersome (and forgettable).
In a more formal context, you may also use titles such as “Lord” or “Professor” or you might be making introductions to an older person, who is not accustomed to the less formal manners we all use today and prefers you to use “Mr” or “Mrs”. You will have to utilise your social antennae when these occasions rise, but it is probably best to err on the side of formality – they can always, after a formal introduction, say “Please call me Jane/James”.
The person you are introducing should not have to guess that the other is, for example, a doctor or a lord, or even someone who would rather be called “Mr” or “Mrs”. It is considerate for the person making the introduction to provide information that may avert future embarrassment.
Introducing yourself when you do not know anyone is perfectly acceptable and is often the most practical solution in a purely social setting, especially when other people are remiss about making introductions. If you do need to introduce yourself step forward with a smile and say: “May I introduce myself? I am Emily Duckworth.” The person addressed should respond by stating their name “Oliver Liddell” Or “Hello” followed by the name. Speaking clearly is polite, as it is maddening for people to have to ask you to repeat yourself.
According to formal tradition, introductions are usually followed by a handshake and the words: “How do you do?” to which the response is: “How do you do?” Never assume that “How do you do?” means “How are you?”. It is merely a greeting, not a question.
In more informal settings, and amongst younger people, it is more usual to say “Hello” or “Hi”. Handshakes may be dispensed with altogether, or a kiss (or double kiss) may be proffered. If this is the case, don’t look taken aback. Usually, your right cheek is offered first and you should briefly touch cheeks. You will need to read the body language of the person who is greeting you to establish if you are being offered a double kiss. Greeting customs are very fluid, so remain poised to comply.
If you find yourself in a social pickle, tied up in knots about precedence and seniority, don’t bow out of the introduction ritual altogether. It is better to make an introduction than not, even if you’ve transgressed one of the traditional rules of social etiquette. At least you’ll be attaching names to faces and most people will appreciate that and rise graciously above a mangled introduction.
Christmas adverts have become a cultural phenomenon. Launched in November, they herald the beginning of the festive season and are watched intently for the messages they send, ranging from an assertion of the ‘traditional’ seasonal values to much more iconoclastic offerings, which boldly affirm that Christmas is a time to throw out the rule book and make new traditions, as long as they reflect family values, empathy and kindness.
It seems that, every year, we are increasingly tying ourselves in knots over a single day in the calendar. Advertisers are predicted to spend a record £9.5 billion this year and we are bombarded in the weeks running up to the big day with propaganda about the perfect Christmas.
Perhaps now, before the madness has been fully unleashed, is the time to ponder the ingredients that make Christmas work for you and your family. There is certainly no one template for an ideal Christmas, and every family has evolved their own set of customs and traditions. They may have their own day when they deem it is correct to put up the Christmas tree (or eschew it altogether), and many families will disinter an eclectic range of decorations which are rooted their own history (old fashioned baubles handed down by their parents, kids’ school projects etc).
The big day itself is a gigantic free-for-all. Everybody has their own opinion about when is the right time to open presents, whether the day should include a walk, what time the big meal should be served, what food should be eaten. There is no right or wrong way of conducting the Christmas festivities and, in general, what has worked in the past is enshrined into the ritual and becomes an immoveable aspect of the big day.
These traditions are precious and should be robustly defended; do what works best for you and your family and never let the cacophony of Christmas chatter make you feel that your own celebrations are in some way inadequate.
Bear in mind, however, that every family Christmas is unique and if you are having guests over the festive period, they may well find some of your choices eccentric or puzzling. This is no reason to abandon tried and tested traditions, but it is always a good idea to concede that other people might do things differently. Explain to your guests why you have evolved certain customs (eg “we always open presents before breakfast – the children were too impatient to wait when they were really young and so it just became part of the day”). Guests are much more likely to feel comfortable in. your home if they understand why you do things a certain way, and may feel aggrieved if you just dig in and announce “this is how we celebrate Christmas”, which may well make them feel alienated.
If it’s your tradition to deviate radically from Christmas clichés (tree, presents, turkey etc), it’s a good idea to warn guests and thereby avoid any potential dismay or disappointment. Just mention your own peculiar traditions when you’re proffering the invitation (“we don’t give presents and we just spend the day playing cards, sipping champagne and eating smoked salmon”). It’s much better if people know exactly what to expect.
As we’re repeatedly told, Christmas is all about family, and our traditions reflect this. But it is also a time to open your doors and be hospitable, to welcome guests into your home and to ensure that nobody feels ignored or overlooked.
Mobile etiquette has come a long way and it's time to take a look at the new rules.
A century ago, lucky householders in possession of a phone gave it pride of place in the hall or study. Everyone leapt when they heard its imperious and insistent ringing. On picking up the phone, they clearly enunciated their own telephone number (to avoid mix-ups with the exchange) or crisply uttered their own name with military precision. Not answering the phone was seen as deeply eccentric and everybody learn to jump to its strident summons.
How much the world has changed. We carry phones around in our pockets, which are capable of feats of super-computing and double as sophisticated cameras, but we’ve become increasingly wary of what was once considered to be their primary function. Answering the phone is now entirely a matter of choice and much of the time is considered beyond the pale. Communication occurs through messaging, social media, emails, voice notes. In general, people seem to be much happier using less direct methods. But we are still faced with a social conundrum: if everyone carries the means of communication in their pocket, why are they so elusive and unreachable?
•It is increasingly the norm to text before you call and ask the recipient if they’re free to answer your call imminently or arrange a time to speak. This preamble might seem cumbersome to traditional phone addicts who love nothing more than spontaneously picking up the phone, but it is considered a much less stressful way of initiating contact, since it minimises intrusion and enables people to manage their own time.
•Don’t expect unannounced social calls to mobiles to be answered, unless you are calling someone from an older generation who still possesses vestiges of the old obedience to the phone’s clarion call. Many people make calls (inevitably unanswered) as a simple and convenient way of ensuring that there is a “missed call” notification on the recipient’s screen. This might elicit a response, but a text is a politer and more informative option. Business calls are a different matter and are likely to be answered with much more willingness and alacrity.
•Don’t repeatedly redial an unanswered phone, leaving a string of missed call notifications. This is liable to raise your recipient’s blood pressure and, unless there is a real emergency – in which case it would be sensible to send a text – it is an unjustified intrusion, likely to alienate the recipient.
•If you do make a call that is unanswered, send a brief, explanatory text. Many phone-users find voice mails and voice notes onerous (though of course this is a matter of taste). But, in general, the insistence these days is on pithy, economical communications and rambling voice messages, which are often only semi-audible and frequently incoherent, can cause a great deal of frustration.
•Always bear in mind that some people may find your call alarming. Because calls are becoming less common, people are more likely to react to them with panic or dread. If, for example, you see a call flashing up on your phone from your child’s school you instantly leap to the conclusion that there has been an accident. For this reason, callers (from schools, doctors, workplaces etc) have learnt that they may need to utter reassuring words before their greeting (“there’s nothing to worry about”). Alternatively, they can always text ahead.
•People may not be happy to receive your call. If you’re an old-fashioned phone-user who doesn’t think twice about calling out of the blue, accept that you might be met by a response that is flustered, irritated or exasperated. People who don’t like being called will make it perfectly clear to you, saying “I can’t talk right now” or “This is a really bad time to talk”. It’s best at this point to admit defeat and withdraw.
•Be tolerant of older people’s phone habits. As mentioned, they are more likely to make un-announced calls, and if they fail to reach you, they may well leave a voicemail, simply because they find texting (which involves reading glasses and deft fingers) hard work. Think for just a moment about how much technology has changed in their lifetimes and cut them some slack.
•Beware multitasking and concentrate on the call. On the occasions when you decide to talk on the phone (presumably at a time that has been arranged and agreed by text), concentrate on the call. We carry our phones everywhere and think nothing of making calls when we’re on crowded transport, walking down noisy streets, doing the washing up, cooking the children’s tea. Not only are these calls often annoyingly inaudible, it is also perfectly obvious that you are making them while doing something else. This can be very alienating for the recipient, who feels marginalised and deprioritised. If you’re going to talk to somebody, find a non-distracting environment and concentrate on the call.
•Keep phone calls to yourself. If you’re making a video call in a public space (or if you’re just too lazy to hold the phone up to your ear) you must use headphones or earbuds. Nobody should be forced to listen to your phone conversation; it will be annoyingly distracting and might be intrusive or embarrassing. The person at the other end might object if they realise their conversation is audible to a train carriage full of unwilling eavesdroppers.
•Accept that, despite the growing tendency to favour text contact over phone conversations, there are some instances where the human voice must take priority. It is fine to send an effusive thank-you note by text, but a message of condolence will be much more appreciated if you pick up the phone and allow your voice to transmit sympathy. In general, texts are an admirably economical way of communicating, but they are not good when it comes to nuance, so if you want to convey subtle emotions or deal with a tricky situation where there is a risk of misinterpretation, it is much better to cut through the protective veil of text messaging and allow your own voice to do the talking.
The proposal has been accepted and it’s time to put a ring on the bride-to-be’s finger. The engagement rings is laden with symbolism. It announces a forthcoming marriage to the world, is a substantial love token and above all it symbolises commitment. It is a conventional feature of becoming engaged, but it is not ‘compulsory’, and some brides choose to eschew them altogether.
There is a tradition that the ring, which represents a substantial investment, should cost the equivalent of 2-3 months of the groom’s salary, but there is no obligation whatsoever to adhere to this expectation. The cost of the ring should of course be commensurate with the groom’s budget and ability to pay; it would be an extremely ominous sign to enter a marriage with substantial debts because of an over-extravagant engagement ring. No bride-to-be should assess her engagement ring on the basis of its bling factor or feel that a more modest purchase in some way signals that she is being undervalued. Buying an engagement ring is just the first in an accelerating list of purchases and expenses that accompany a marriage, and inevitably grooms will need to make their books balance. If cash is tight, some couples opt for a modest engagement ring, with the understanding that they may upgrade it later or add a subsequent purchase of a classy eternity ring at a later date.
The romantic cliché, much reinforced by movies, is that the future groom approaches his proposal well-prepared, with a ring box secreted in his pocket. Some men will choose to go down this route, but they should only do so if they are confident that they understand their partner’s taste and, preferably, know her ring size. They can, of course, enlist help and advice with both these questions – perhaps by confiding in her best friend, mother or sister – and this would undoubtedly make them more secure and confident in their choice.
It is increasingly common for couples to choose the ring together and, while this route lacks the romantic element of surprise, it is a safe option. It is very important before making the selection that the budget is openly discussed – the ring should be the very best that the bridegroom can afford, and the bride must accept his own estimate of his upper payment limit without questioning it.
Some grooms are lucky enough to have an heirloom ring, perhaps from a grandmother, aunt or mother. If this is the case, they should not assume that this treasured ring will be the ideal option (the choice of a ring is a very individual matter) and should always offer to have the ring adapted or re-set. By offering an heirloom ring the groom is welcoming his partner into his own family, and the ring (even if it is much altered) symbolises family continuity.
Use trusted and recommended jewellers where possible. A large diamond is not necessarily more valuable than a smaller, well cut, flawless stone, and a discreet ring may be more suited to everyday wear.
The bride should try on and experiment with different styles and shapes of stones and settings. It is best to try them alongside a wedding band to get a true feel for how the ring will eventually settle on the finger.
Diamonds are the traditional choice, but other stones, such as sapphires and rubies, may also be chosen or used as side-settings. Popular metals for engagement rings are white gold, gold and platinum, which is the most hardwearing. The metal of the wedding band should be the same as the engagement ring, both to ensure that they match and to avoid a harder metal rubbing away at a softer metal.
If the groom chooses the ring, there is always the danger that the bride will be disappointed. If your first reaction on seeing an engagement ring is disappointment or dismay, conceal those emotions. Give it time and see if the ring grows on you (many jewellers offer a 30-day return period). Your first reaction might have been because the actual ring falls far short of your fantasy ring, but a sense of reality and an acknowledgment that this ring has been painstakingly chosen for you, might reconcile you to it. Seeing it in different lights, and noticing when it catches the light and sparkles, might go some way towards persuading you.
If the doubts are still uppermost, don’t upload triumphant engagement pictures, featuring the offending ring, on social media. If you do decide to change the ring, you might find yourself having to explain the whole saga to your nearest and dearest, and it could well be humiliating for your partner to find that everybody knows about his mis-fired first choice.
Test the ring out on somebody whose judgement you trust and solicit an honest opinion. Do not canvas the opinion of your entire social circle; it will become a hurtful talking point and will make your partner feel bad.
If you’ve decided you really don’t like the ring, grasp the nettle as soon as possible. Start by finding positive things to say about the ring (stone, setting, metal) and reiterate how much you appreciate the care and attention that your partner has shown. Then gently explain that you don’t think the ring is right for you; it will be much easier if you can find reasons to do with yourself, eg your taste is more contemporary than his choice, or you tend to like understated clothes and jewellery and the ring is too big and bold. You can even explain that the ring doesn’t really suit the length of your fingers, or the shape of your hand. Never repudiate or challenge his taste.
Finish by acknowledging that the ring has been a big investment, which you will be wearing for a lifetime, and remind him that it is obviously extremely important for both of you to get it right.
If the marriage is not destined to last, bear in mind that the engagement ring is considered an outright present given to the woman on condition of marriage, and having met that condition, she is entitled to keep it even after the marriage’s dissolution. If the ring is a precious heirloom, handed down to the bridegroom, its return is entirely at the woman’s discretion.
The revelations that are being unearthed by the Covid enquiry are causing shock and consternation, and many people have been appalled by the sheer obscenity and outrageous rudeness of messages sent between colleagues. We all have notions about how the people who govern our country should behave and earn our respect. They are in positions of power and authority and as a result we feel that they should adhere to a high standard of behaviour, demonstrating their leadership in the way they conduct themselves and showing calm, civility and decorum in all their dealings with colleagues, advisers and members of the public. Above all, we have been disconcerted by their lack of professionalism.
The Collins dictionary defines professionalism as “a combination of skill and high standards.” The latter quality should govern how individuals conduct themselves in the workplace: they should be able to understand what is appropriate behaviour in the workplace and should strive to be courteous in all their professional dealings.
The general assumption is that workplace communications should be polite and temperate. Undoubtedly some workplaces may foster a robust and challenging environment, where ideas are freely discussed and interrogated, and employees in these environments may feel that their ability to withstand close scrutiny is a prerequisite. Even so, a knockabout atmosphere is generally verbal, and it would be an egregious error, in most workplaces, to translate that sort of discourse into written communications.
It is a mistake to be bamboozled by the ease and convenience of WhatsApp and email, and to slip into an extremely casual, and even grossly insulting, style of communication. Obscenity-laden messages are scarcely representative of the calm, unruffled demeanour that we seek in people who are tasked with challenging jobs, especially in times of crisis. Abbreviated text language, littered with slang and grammatical errors, carries very little authority. Most importantly of all, written communications are retrievable, and – as witnesses in the Covid enquiry can confirm – casual chats on, for example, WhatsApp can be disinterred and pored over in minute, and excruciatingly forensic, detail by judges, lawyers, chairmen of internal enquiries, human resources managers and so on.
Whatever happened to professionalism? This is the notion that we have an “off-duty” persona and a professional persona. At work, no matter how friendly, congenial and convivial the office may be, we are in professional mode. That means being circumspect and self-aware. You must ensure that you present a polished façade to the world and be very careful not to show any chinks in your armour. If you are beset by domestic problems, the expectation is that you will conceal your difficulties, and if that proves impossible, you should speak about them, in confidence, to your manager or the human resources department.
Be cautious about confiding in colleagues and don’t let your guard down and reveal your darkest secrets (a real risk at office parties, where drink can unleash some febrile emotions). This does not mean that you should be cool, or unfriendly, or resistant to social advances. You should be as friendly and accommodating as possible, but always be aware that you are operating in a professional sphere, and that your actions may have consequences. If you aspire to do a job as well as you possibly can, are eager to take responsibility for all your actions and learn from your mistakes, display a strong work ethic and are respectful to managers and colleagues, you are achieving a high level of professionalism.
Individual workplaces will have different levels of formality and rigidity about codes of conduct, and it is important that you do your best to acknowledge the prevailing culture and fit in with it as far as possible. But you should also adhere to your own notions of what is right and appropriate: if you work in an office where the atmosphere is rowdy and boisterous, there is a boozy drinking culture, and insulting and obscene language is the order of the day, think carefully before you throw caution to the winds and join in. Of course, you do not want to feel like a disapproving party pooper, but there is every chance that the Rabelaisian scenes that you witness daily are not going to last forever: generally once office culture goes down this path, the chaotic antics escalate, failures and faults multiply, relationships break down and eventually, the whole shambles is called to order (which frequently involves inquiries, redundancies, restructuring and so on).
If you find yourself at the receiving end of unprofessional behaviour, in particular offensive, belittling, or crude written communications (which are tangible and irrefutable evidence), don’t suffer in silence. Speak to a human resources manager; you may well find that have been subjected to bullying and harassment, which is unlawful under the Equality Act of 2010. A poisonous workplace culture will become absolutely entrenched unless individuals are prepared to call it out.
Take some pride in your professional demeanour: try to be calm and collected at all times, resist flying off the handle and displaying strong emotions, which make you look as if you’ve lost control, moderate your language, and think carefully about the content and tone of your written communications. If you undertake the job in hand, whatever it may be, with all these traits uppermost, you will earn the respect and admiration of your colleagues.
Tact is the skill of handling a delicate situation and emerging with everyone still smiling. It is the ability to steer the staunch socialist away from the right-wig reactionary without either of them even knowing the other one was there. Those of us who come back from every party wracked with guilt about what we said or did long to possess tact.
The ability to do or say the right thing, however delicate or challenging the situation, is rooted in a well-developed sense of empathy, the ability to understand how other people are feeling. This means that you are alert to every scenario, able to rapidly assess possible pitfalls or awkwardness and have the skill to smoothly steer away the conversation from the danger zone. If embarrassing or awkward questions must be confronted, you will be able to do so in the most tactful way possible, ensuring that you minimise upset or distress.
Tact, or the lack of it, is threaded through our every encounter. If you are interacting with friends or colleagues who you know well, then you should be aware of their circumstances, preoccupations and vulnerabilities, and therefore able to calibrate the possible impact of what you say or do. It could, for example, be a case of resisting the temptation to bang on about your promotion to your unemployed friend, remembering not to moan about the service in your luxurious holiday hotel to the colleague who hasn’t had a holiday all year, or steering the conversation away from anecdotes about much-loved pets because you’re aware that one of your friends’ dogs has just died.
A tactful person is adept at weighing up the benefits and downsides of blurting out the truth and may well decide that a discreet silence or swift change of subject is the better option. If somebody is telling you about how much they are looking forward to the holiday they’ve booked in a place you really didn’t like, the tactful option is to say nothing, or maybe to gently steer them to the better end of town, the least crowded beach, the acceptable restaurant. The booking has already been made and what is the possible benefit of clouding their sense of excitement and anticipation with you own gloomy prognostications?
Indeed, it is often the case that your opinion is sought when it is too late for it to have an impact – on home décor, clothes, food, holidays, and so on. In these instances, people are seeking endorsement, not the unvarnished truth, so the tactful option is to eschew a completely honest answer and instead find something positive to say.
Hosts and hostesses in particular benefit from a highly developed sense of tact. As they observe proceedings unfold, they need to be aware of social dynamics and alert to possible pressure points. They should be ready at any stage to intervene with a polite interjection, an elegant change of subject, an introduction, a plea for help (asking someone to assist you with serving or social duties is a tactful way of heading off rows or confrontations). The most tactful people can steer and manipulate conversations so subtly that nobody is aware of their machinations and manoeuvrings.
Ultimately, tact is about generosity of spirit, and comes from a genuine desire to build a positive and constructive environment in which relationships can develop and thrive. It is an invaluable skill professionally, as it helps to build a congenial atmosphere in which there is a willingness to listen to other people and work together to solve problems.
Inevitably, there is a hint of dishonesty in the whole notion of tact, but a little dash of duplicity is surely acceptable if it’s to spare someone else’s feelings. It is an unselfish art, where the tactful one removes himself or herself from the context to think only about others, and that can never be a bad thing.
By contrast, there is something selfish and thoughtless about being tactless: at best, a crass inability to avoid putting one’s foot in it – at a cost to other people’s feelings or sensibilities – or, at worst, a wilful ignorance about the effect your own words can have on others. This is often the case with iconoclasts and disruptors, who enjoy provocation and thrive on discord, frequently causing discomfort and distress to other people. “A tactless man is like an axe on an embroidery frame”, says an old Malay proverb – how much better to be the one who stiches a situation back together again.
We all agree that society is becoming much less deferential, and that acute social anxiety when it comes to protocol, precedence and titles is diminishing.
But people still have titles, whether they are inherited or bestowed, and it is still a mark of respect and consideration to go to the trouble of using them correctly. Making mistakes may not be an act of social suicide, as it once was, but it can look slapdash and over-casual. Using the correct title gets you off on the right foot and is an easy way to ensure that you are taken seriously, especially when you are writing to strangers.
British titles can appear confusing and contradictory, and it is hardly surprising that people frequently make the following common mistakes:
•All ranks below duke are called Lord or Lady TITLE in conversation. Do not address them as, for example, earl or baroness except on an envelope or a public list, such as list of patrons or directors, for example at a formal charity event.
•This means that, when you meet a titled person, you should say, for example “Good morning, Lord Debrett” not “Good morning earl.” Dukes are the exception, and you would address a duke as follows: “Good morning, duke”.
•The most common confusion is first and last names. Knights, baronets and dames are formally addressed as follows: title-first name-last name, for example Dame Maggie Smith. If you were to meet her in person, you would address her as follows: “Good morning, Dame Maggie”.
•Daughters and younger sons of dukes and marquesses and daughters of earls are addressed as follows: Lord/Lady-first name-last name, for example the fictional Lady Mary Crawley in Downton Abbey, the daughter of an earl, is informally and verbally addressed as Lady Mary.
•Sons of earls and sons and daughters of viscounts and barons are called the Honourable, shortened to the Hon, but always referred to (other than on envelopes and official lists) as Mr, Mrs, Miss or Ms.
•All life peers are barons or baronesses, and some female life peers have chosen to use the title ‘Baroness’, rather than ‘Lady’. If they choose this style, then it should be respected even though it is technically incorrect. For example, Baroness Garden (title-surname), but some famous life peeresses are commonly, and erroneously, addressed as, for example, “Baroness Margaret Thatcher” (ie their forename is included).
•People often tend to think the wife of a baronet (for example Sir John Debrett), is called Lady Jane Debrett. She is only Lady Jane if she is the daughter of a duke, marquess or earl. To be correct, she is Lady Debrett. It is obviously tempting to call her Lady Jane because her husband is Sir John, but that would be incorrect.
•It works the other way round as well. If daughter of a duke, marquess or earl is married to a plain mister she is called, for example, Lady Charlotte Berkeley (or, informally, “Lady Charlotte”) and he stays Mr James Berkeley. It would be wrong to call her Lady Berkeley.
•Daughters and sons of a viscount or baron have the courtesy title of “The Hon” (though they are addressed verbally in conversation as “Miss”, “Mrs” or “Ms”). If someone with the courtesy title of “The Hon” is married to a plain Mr or Mrs, they take their spouse’s surname and add their courtesy prefix: “The Hon Roger and Mrs Jane Maddox or “Mr Roger and The Hon Jane Maddox”.
Some titles are frequently misused, and the erroneous use has become normalised, for example:
•A very a typical mistake is Diana, Lady Berkeley, the former wife of the 18th Baron Berkeley. As an environmental campaigner, she was frequently in the news and incorrectly named as Lady Dido Berkeley.
• When the composer and impresario Andrew Lloyd Webber was given a life peerage in 1997 his surname was hyphenated to distinguish him from appearing to be a son of a duke or marquess with Lloyd as a first name. Realistically this was never very likely to have happened. However, he is often incorrectly referred to in the media as Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber.
• Perhaps the most common mistakes people make is when referring to members of the Royal family. We frequently see examples of people calling The Duchess of Sussex “Duchess Meghan” or “Princess Meghan”, and The Princess of Wales, “Princess Kate”. Both of these are incorrect. Referring to them by their birth names is also erroneous, although as The Duchess of Sussex was well-known before her marriage, it is acceptable to still refer to her as Meghan Markle.
For those with a keen interest in the lineage, titles and traditions of the British aristocracy, we invite you to subscribe to our peerage database - a trusted resource for accurate, authoritative insight.
We all value good manners and believe that common courtesy is about being aware of other people’s feelings, being observant, and trying to moderate our behaviour so that it doesn’t impact negatively on the people around us. However, there is a risk that this sort of behaviour could morph into “people pleasing”, a common phenomenon when, to appear “good”, “thoughtful” and “kind”, we repress our own needs and emotions, are over-acquiescent around other people, and avoid conflict at all costs because we fear being rejected, discounted or overlooked.
There is a danger when you compulsively present your best face to the world that you are bottling up your true feelings and projecting an inauthentic version of yourself. Your friends may become frustrated by your bland agreeableness and suspect that you are masking your true emotions. Eventually, the pressures of being a people pleaser will build up and may well lead to outbursts of aggrieved anger and resentment, as well as stress and burnout. If you spend all your time trying too hard to solve everyone else’s problems, there will be very little mental energy left for yourself.
It is easy to confuse people pleasing tendencies with being a kind, considerate, well-mannered person, but that would be a mistake. Good manners are never about eradicating your own personality or deferring completely to the people around you. Instead, you must find acceptable ways of communicating your true self and your feelings and opinions to the world. If you can do so without intemperate rage, and without haranguing or dominating other people, you will not cause offence. A little grit in the oyster – disagreements, disappointment, self-assertion, anger, irritation – is all part of building well-rounded relationships with other people.
•You always agree with everyone and are alarmed by the prospect of deviating from the common consensus.
•You find it extremely hard to say “no” when you are asked for help or favours, or when you are being enlisted to do something that you would rather not do. Saying “yes” is your default position.
•You tend to put your own needs on hold when you are with other people, and you are unwilling to assert or prioritise yourself.
•You feel an anguished sense of responsibility for other people’s emotions. If you are with someone who is in a bad mood, or feeling tetchy, for example, you leap to the conclusion that it must be because of something you’ve done or said.
•You’re a social chameleon: you’ll do whatever it takes to make other people comfortable in social situations, even if it means behaving in a way that makes you uncomfortable (eg agreeing to go on a wild night out of clubbing and drinking when what you really want is a quiet dinner in the local restaurant).
•You avoid conflict at all costs. If there is a heated disagreement amongst your friends, you have a tendency to sit on the fence, or plead ignorance.
•You are a compulsive apologiser, mainly because you feel that – when things have gone wrong, whatever the reason – it is your fault.
•First, you need to acknowledge that you have people pleasing tendencies. Try to examine the times recently you’ve said “yes” when you really mean “no” and think about the number of times in the past few days you’ve acted on other people’s expectations rather than your own wishes.
•You’ll probably find that you naturally default to saying “yes” to everything, so experiment with buying yourself a bit of time by pausing. You could say “I’ll have to think about it”. Use the time to ask yourself “do I really want to do this?” before giving your reply.
•Make small incremental changes. Experiment with saying “no” to a small request and seeing how this makes you feel. You might feel better if you mitigate the negative with a short, and truthful, explanation: for example, say “no thanks” to the offer of an after-work drink, with the brief “I’m just too tired to socialise tonight.” You will be surprised and gratified to find that your explanations will be accepted and your decision to take note of your own feelings will not endanger your friendships.
Increasing numbers of us are regarding the dream of owning our own homes as a distant prospect, while rising rents are forcing many people to live in communal shared households. And it’s not just students and people in their 20s who are just starting out on their adult lives. Older people are being increasingly forced by circumstances (eg divorce, redundancy, bereavement) to consider the communal option.
A harmonious household can be an excellent social resource, providing on-tap company and plentiful human contact. But we all know that living together can be a hazardous affair and that gripes and grievances can all too easily escalate and get out of hand. When the atmosphere begins to turn Arctic (and not just because one of your flatmates has turned down the thermostat), you will need all your reserves of empathy, courtesy and diplomacy to negotiate your way out of trouble. Before it comes to this, watch out carefully for the following pressure points:
•Money
You need to sit down and openly discuss money before you all move in together. That means confronting inequities (eg very small rooms vs spacious master bedrooms) and finding ways to accommodate them (using a sliding rent scale to match room size). It also means working out how you are going to divide bills, who is going to look after household bills, perhaps agreeing a date on the month on which standing orders should be paid, or discussing whether each tenant should make a monthly contribution for a household kitty, covering the cost of basics like tea, coffee, sugar, cleaning products, and so on.
It really is worth spending time hashing out these questions before you’ve actually started living together. If misunderstandings and ambiguities arise later, it’s much more onerous to raise and resolve them.
•Culture
Desperation can lead to some very strange households, which bring together an assortment of people who seem to be startlingly incompatible. It is essential that you go to some time and trouble to find people who are like-minded and compatible in a whole range of different ways. Night owls who like to socialise after midnight and enjoy clattering noisily around the house and playing music in the early hours of the morning will not fit comfortably with early risers who are tucked into bed by 10pm. People who have made very marked lifestyle choices (eg veganism) may not find it easy to share with people whose idea of an excellent breakfast is fried bacon and black pudding.
There are also more subtle questions: do prospective tenants want to socialise, maybe eat and drink together now and then, create a “house culture”? Or are they all rugged individuals, whose idea of shared living is to stay firmly in their own room, making occasional dashes for the kitchen where their food is neatly stowed away and clearly labelled? Obviously, these two stances do not mix, but a surprising number of housemates find themselves living cheek by jowl with people who are fundamentally different and mixing it up is not invariably successful. It is much more sensible to do your due diligence, and thoroughly explore these questions before you choose your housemates.
•Hygiene
Everyone has different standards when it comes to kitchen and bathroom hygiene, but in shared households it is always best to default to a “leave no trace” option. Always clear up after yourself, whether that means doing the washing up late at night after a riotous dinner party or ensuring that you have wiped down bathroom surfaces after your morning shower. This might require a level of diligence that does not come naturally, but cleanliness can be a real trigger point, and nobody wants to find themselves having bitter rows about greasy surfaces or dirty pots and pans. And remember, it’s a shared responsibility to take out the rubbish bins and sort the recycling; take your turn and don’t let it become the sole responsibility of one harassed individual.
•Territorial Questions
Before you embark on an epically long shower or take over the kitchen for yet another of your elaborate supper parties involving an inordinate number of ingredients, utensils and pots, spare a thought for your flat mates. One of them might be desperate to use the bathroom before setting off for work, or keen to knock up a dinner-for-one on the night of your supper party. Nobody in a shared household should wield greater rights over communal space than anybody else, so you really need to think carefully about other people’s access. Communication is key: if you’re having people around, give fair warning and check that it’s okay with everybody else. Be wary of hogging the shared bathroom – save your most indulgent grooming sessions for times when the flat is empty.
It’s all about consideration: you need to keep reminding yourself that your actions will have an impact on other people and ensuring that you minimise any fall-out. If you lapse or get it wrong, which inevitably will happen, a swift and heartfelt apology will go a long way.
•Heat
In these straitened times the question of central heating can be highly charged. We all have different body clocks and comfort levels, and some people will inevitably prefer to keep the thermostat up high, which may well cause resentment amongst more hardy tenants. Don’t let these feelings fester; it’s quite acceptable to point out that keeping the flat at sauna levels all day has profound financial consequences (a smart meter will make that calculation horribly clear). Try and work out a compromise about when it’s acceptable to have the heating on (probably mornings and evenings); in the daytime more sensitive tenants might have to deploy blankets, thermal underwear and hot water bottles to fight off the chill.
Most people who share a flat or house will encounter problems at some point and if they are handled well, they need not be insuperable. If a problem has been brewing, try the following:
•Don’t just blurt out your complaint while the recipient is going about their business in the kitchen – it will come across as hectoring. Instead, say “I think there are some issues we need to discuss” and suggest going out for a drink, or meeting around the kitchen table later in the day. This will buy some time for people to reflect and might mean they’re better prepared and less liable to fly off the handle.
•Don’t just list crimes and misdemeanours, try and explain the consequences for other people. So saying “you never wash up your dinner things before you go to bed” is simply accusatory and may elicit a defensive reaction; saying “if you don’t wash up your dinner things before you go to bed, it means that us early risers are having to clear up before we can have breakfast and get off to work and it’s not a great start to the day, especially if we’re in a rush” conveys how you feel and may go some way towards eliciting sympathy and understanding.
•If possible, try to enlist the presence of a “neutral” third party, who can mediate between you and make the conversation feel less confrontational.
•Be very wary of leaving notes around the household with complaints or instructions. These will come across as dictatorial and officious – it is much better to have an open discussion.
•Don’t resort to passive aggression on household WhatsApp groups. If you send out a message saying, “Just thinking it would be great if we could all remember to wash up our breakfast stuff!” it is clearly directed at one (or more) offender, and everyone knows who it is. It would be much better to confront the situation directly, face to face, which is always a more effective medium.
•Above all, don’t let grievances fester and accumulate until you are a seething mass of resentment. If you do so, you may well find that the confrontation, when it finally comes, is catastrophic and the damage to your relations with your housemates is terminal.
