MINDING MANNERS

One late afternoon in East Africa, about 180,000 years ago, a lone figure crouched in the lengthening shadows, scanning the shimmering horizon for animal movement. There was none. “I hate Mondays”, he muttered to himself with a distracted belch. He was pondering an offer from his neighbour, an implausibly hairy individual, who had suggested that by hunting together as a team they could trap larger prey and better feed both their families. It certainly sounded plausible. “Why not?”, he decided. Maybe if they collaborated they could nab one of those ‘Plenty-of-Meat’ creatures that go tearing past every now and then. It would be a culinary step up from the Warty-Toady things which gave him wind. Okay, it probably didn’t happen exactly that way, (anthropologists think it may have been a Friday), but the advantage gained by cooperating goes right back to our human roots. Trapping ferocious beasties was a dangerous business; it was hardly worth the effort if, after you’ve dragged one home, butchered and cooked it, your neighbours decide to go clubbing –and not in a fun way. Teamwork meant sharing the risks, halving the effort, and eating in peace: the building blocks of society. Although it’s claimed as original by practically every religious faith, the so-called ‘Golden Rule’ – to treat others as you’d like them to treat you –almost certainly originates from these primaeval times. It was no less than a survival strategy.

Teamwork meant sharing the risks, halving the effort, and eating in peace

Over successive millennia, human communities spread across the world and developed rules for getting on together, actions deemed mutually beneficial or socially acceptable. Not that showing consideration for others always proved to be a winner. In 1492 Christopher Columbus landed his crew on the island of San Salvador in the Bahamas and noted their welcome by the indigenous people; “their manners are decorous and praiseworthy”, he wrote. But the locals then made the fatal

For her part, my mother always insisted upon having side-plates on the table and was quite unmoveable on this point. When displeased, my mother could make the late Queen Elizabeth II sound common, so you omitted them at your peril. On her first visit to France, for example, Angie and I took her to lunch at a small restaurant in Pontl'Évêque. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten to warn my mother there might not be any . . . A pity, it had all been going so well. Of course, modern standards of etiquette and behaviour must accommodate different social situations. For example, Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones once noted that in his circle it was considered “very bad form” to turn blue in someone else’s bathroom. It’s important to maintain standards. Despite all this and as odd as it sounds, there is still the rare occasion where perfect manners might be considered superfluous. The great comedy writer Frank Muir once told of having to visit his local hospital for a ‘lower abdominal’ operation when he was in late middle age. Directed to a small room, he was instructed to take off his clothes, lay on the table, and cover himself with the towel provided. After ten minutes there was a knock on the door. “Come in!”, called Frank, whereupon a formidable-looking matron marched in. Unceremoniously, she whipped away the towel and with an alarming briskness, Frank recalled, he was ‘shaved, relevantly’. “Up you get!”, barked the matron, handing him a gown. As they moved towards the adjoining room for the operation, she paused to ask Frank if he had any questions. “Just one”, he answered, “Why did you knock?”