The Death of Common Courtesy

As I am sitting at Panera Bread compiling ideas for this posting, I overhear an employee tell a customer "thank you for supporting me the other day." The two carry on for a few minutes, and what I can gather from the conversation is that the employee got into a squabble with a different customer while working the other day, and this guy intervened and defended said employee. (Maybe I should amend the title of this posting to read "The Poor Health of Common Courtesy," as the universe, in all its timeliness, must've felt compelled to shove right in my face an example that common courtesy IS still alive and well.) But nevertheless, on with the original agenda...

I define common courtesy as a genuine respect for the human spirit. This encompasses, not just 'doing the right thing,' but also extending beyond basic moral principles and treating others how we expect to be treated. Not such a difficult concept, right? But, for whatever reason, people (in our society anyways) have become hugely distanced from one-another, to the effect that it's viewed as abnormal when people go out of their way to act kind. Take, for example, my propensity toward smiling at, nodding to, or saying hello to any person who comes within roughly ten feet of me. I do this, not because of what culture has taught me, maybe because of what my parents have taught me, but mostly because it seems blatantly rude to pass by a fellow human being and not acknowledge his or her presence. Sometimes my gesture is returned, but much of the time I find that people become uncomfortable with my intrusion of kindness, and avert their eyes as if not to notice me. In fact, there are people who I see at my gym EVERY single day, who share the same sweaty, ridiculous, vulnerable, rituals that I do EVERY single day--yet still refuse to humble themselves so little as to crack a smile.

While writing this essay, I'm reminded of a story my friend Shien told me not too long ago. I was bitching to him, (about this very subject), and he called to attention the fact that I, having been raised in the South(ish), have a higher standard of what common courtesy should entail. He then described what it was like growing up in Bethune, South Carolina--where people pulled over, got out of their cars, and bowed their heads when a funeral procession passed by. This was a town where, according to Shien, your hand would become so damn tired while driving from raising it to acknowledge each and every passing vehicle. Now, I'm not implying that every city in the US adapt the attitude of Bethune SC (if so, we'd all go broke!). I'm simply suggesting that goodwill toward men is not such a bad idea.

To drive home the point, I'd like to take a examine a culture in which an utter abandonment of common courtesy has rendered tragic consequences. Austria--the setting of the horrific F family incest/imprisonment development (and two other equally heinous crimes)--has, since its affiliation with the Nazi Party in World War II, been a "don't ask, don't tell" society. Ashamed by their discomforting past, Austrians emphasize the importance of secrecy and appearance--even at the expense of those whose lives depend on societal intervention. The F family story is so disturbing because it is certain that, after imprisoning a girl and her subsequent children in a basement for 24 years, SOMEONE would've caught on. Why didn't the girl's school teacher/friends/friends' parents wonder why she disappeared all of the sudden? Why didn't the grocery clerk wonder why Mr. F was always buying diapers and baby food for children he supposedly didn't have? The answer? They DID ask these questions--but because of their culture, didn't feel it was their duty to act.

Undoubtedly, the death of common courtesy in the US is to be attributed to technology. I mean, Christ, we've resorted to finding husbands and wives via the Internet! Children are raised in front of the television or X-box, multiple conversations are held daily through email or text messages, and neighborhoods have become increasingly sprawling. It's no wonder we've forgotten how to act toward humans! But I can't help but smile when I'm proven wrong.