day!” They also give and receive compliments easily, even among strangers. The English find this behavior highly suspect.Hence, the American reputation for insincerity.
The English novelist Patricia Finney has said that she loves Americans because “it doesn’t matter whether people actually respect me or not, so long as they treat me with courtesy andrespect . . . I really don’t mind if nice American check-out guys tell me to have a nice day and are really thinking, ‘hope you have a terrible day, you snotty Brit,’ so long as I don’t know about it. I think sincerity is over-rated in any case.” Americans don’t. Americans prize sincerity above most qualities. (How else are they going to ensure that the Great Pumpkin picks their patch?) An American friend of Finney’s accordingly defended the practice, saying Americans “. . . do respect people. It’s not faked.”
It could be that Americans have stopped hearing themselves. Just like the English with their
sorries
, they have certainly stopped expecting a response. Imagine the shock of a salesman who said, “Have a nice day!” to the grandfather of a friend, who answered, “Thank you, but I have other plans.”
Americans are sociable and approval-seeking. They look for common ground with others and genuinely want to connect. This often takes the form of compliments—especially to complete strangers. (“I really like your wapdoodle!” “What a great snockticker!”) This is because American society’s fluidity can lead to insecurity. Your place in the hierarchy is based not on who you
are
, but what you
do
(and how much you
make
). Therefore, Americans incessantly seek reassurance that they are doing all right. But the marvelous thing is that they also seek to give reassurance. That may be the quality that Finney was responding to.
In English culture, you’re assumed to be secure in your place, to know where you stand. But in real life, who does? Practically no one.
Sorry
and American compliments serve similar social purposes. When there’s nothing to say, we can avoid social awkwardness and either deflect (UK) or connect (USA)—all in the name of politeness.
Sorry
simultaneously avoidsconfrontation and, when used sincerely, allows people to show how lovely they are,
really
, despite their minor transgressions. American compliments allow for a little connection, and reinforce your belonging on a level that’s comfortable—at least if you’re American.
Either way, you’re left with something to say, and on that note, Jane Austen will have the last word on
sorry
. Here she is in a letter to her elder sister:
My dearest Cassandra
My expectation of having nothing to say to you after the conclusion of my last, seems nearer Truth than I thought it would be, for I feel to have but little . . . you may accordingly prepare for my ringing the Changes of the Glads and Sorrys for the rest of the page.—Unluckily, however, I see nothing to be glad of, unless I make it a matter of Joy that Mrs. Wylmot has another son and that Lord Lucan has taken a Mistress, both of which Events are of course joyful to the Actors;—but to be sorry I find many occasions, the first is that your return is to be delayed, & whether I ever get beyond the first is doubtful. It is no use to lament.—I never heard that even Queen Mary’s Lamentation did her any good, & I could not therefore expect benefit from mine.—We are all sorry, & now that subject isexhausted.
Toilet
In which we attempt to bring back a useful old word (while simultaneously discouraging the use of a vulgar one).
E veryone has a private list of least-favorite words. Words that we shrink from using, and cringe to hear. They are like dog whistles, emitting a high and excruciating frequency audible only to us, while others go blissfully about their business. The renowned American gastronome M. F. K. Fisher, writing about her own opinions, prejudices, and aversions, used the antiquated Scottish
The English novelist Patricia Finney has said that she loves Americans because “it doesn’t matter whether people actually respect me or not, so long as they treat me with courtesy andrespect . . . I really don’t mind if nice American check-out guys tell me to have a nice day and are really thinking, ‘hope you have a terrible day, you snotty Brit,’ so long as I don’t know about it. I think sincerity is over-rated in any case.” Americans don’t. Americans prize sincerity above most qualities. (How else are they going to ensure that the Great Pumpkin picks their patch?) An American friend of Finney’s accordingly defended the practice, saying Americans “. . . do respect people. It’s not faked.”
It could be that Americans have stopped hearing themselves. Just like the English with their
sorries
, they have certainly stopped expecting a response. Imagine the shock of a salesman who said, “Have a nice day!” to the grandfather of a friend, who answered, “Thank you, but I have other plans.”
Americans are sociable and approval-seeking. They look for common ground with others and genuinely want to connect. This often takes the form of compliments—especially to complete strangers. (“I really like your wapdoodle!” “What a great snockticker!”) This is because American society’s fluidity can lead to insecurity. Your place in the hierarchy is based not on who you
are
, but what you
do
(and how much you
make
). Therefore, Americans incessantly seek reassurance that they are doing all right. But the marvelous thing is that they also seek to give reassurance. That may be the quality that Finney was responding to.
In English culture, you’re assumed to be secure in your place, to know where you stand. But in real life, who does? Practically no one.
Sorry
and American compliments serve similar social purposes. When there’s nothing to say, we can avoid social awkwardness and either deflect (UK) or connect (USA)—all in the name of politeness.
Sorry
simultaneously avoidsconfrontation and, when used sincerely, allows people to show how lovely they are,
really
, despite their minor transgressions. American compliments allow for a little connection, and reinforce your belonging on a level that’s comfortable—at least if you’re American.
Either way, you’re left with something to say, and on that note, Jane Austen will have the last word on
sorry
. Here she is in a letter to her elder sister:
My dearest Cassandra
My expectation of having nothing to say to you after the conclusion of my last, seems nearer Truth than I thought it would be, for I feel to have but little . . . you may accordingly prepare for my ringing the Changes of the Glads and Sorrys for the rest of the page.—Unluckily, however, I see nothing to be glad of, unless I make it a matter of Joy that Mrs. Wylmot has another son and that Lord Lucan has taken a Mistress, both of which Events are of course joyful to the Actors;—but to be sorry I find many occasions, the first is that your return is to be delayed, & whether I ever get beyond the first is doubtful. It is no use to lament.—I never heard that even Queen Mary’s Lamentation did her any good, & I could not therefore expect benefit from mine.—We are all sorry, & now that subject isexhausted.
Toilet
In which we attempt to bring back a useful old word (while simultaneously discouraging the use of a vulgar one).
E veryone has a private list of least-favorite words. Words that we shrink from using, and cringe to hear. They are like dog whistles, emitting a high and excruciating frequency audible only to us, while others go blissfully about their business. The renowned American gastronome M. F. K. Fisher, writing about her own opinions, prejudices, and aversions, used the antiquated Scottish
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