In the wake of the assassination attempt of former President Donald Trump, we’re reminded that we are living in what many people call “uncivil times.” Growing extremism, hyper-partisanship, and political violence around the world—not to mention the daily, low-grade discourteousness we encounter in our daily live—all point out the vexing nature of living life with people who sometimes have vastly differing opinions.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]Civility, the art of human flourishing, is the basic respect and consideration that we are owed, and owe to other members of the human community. It is the habitual self-sacrifice necessary to peaceably co-exist with others across difference. It’s the process of overcoming the self-love endemic to our nature so that the social aspects of who we are can flourish. It enables us to not merely survive as a species, but thrive.
Challenges to civility are timeless because they emerge from a part of the human personality that we all share. We’re defined by love of others and also love of self, which have always been at odds with one another. Perhaps unsurprisingly, across time and place, thoughtful people have reflected on this universal problem and come to remarkably similar conclusions: that civility helps us flourish across deep difference and the most pressing challenges of our day.
In fact, it’s worth looking at two figures from two different times and places, one familiar and one forgotten, for guidance: Emily Post and Daniel of Beccles. While many might think that Emily Post and Daniel of Beccles are rather dated, stuffy, and unfit to meet the needs of our high-stakes, divided era, their works contain important timeless insights into how we might peacefully co-exist among those with whom we disagree.
Post’s 1922 book Etiquette, now in its 19th edition, has been a stalwart manners authority on the American scene for a century. Though Beccles was the Emily Post of the 12th century Europe—his Liber Urbani, or Book of the Civilized Man, was the defining etiquette book of the day, and remains among the most substantial courtesy poems in any language—he has been largely forgotten by modern readers. Their respective etiquette tomes—Post’s over 900 pages and Beccles nearly 3,000 lines of Latin verse—left no aspect of social life untouched. Both set out for their works to be the definitive guide of their day to navigating life together with others across difference. Post referred to her 1922 Etiquette as the “indubitable authority on manners” that was “without precedent in American literature.”
Post succinctly summarized her entire philosophy of civility as basic consideration for others. She wrote, “Rule of etiquette the first—which hundreds of others merely paraphrase or explain or elaborate—is: Never do anything that is unpleasant to others.” Put another way, she reminds us stay ever mindful of the need of others alongside one’s own, in ways great and small. Beccles cared about elegance of manners (gracia morum) and self-control as the hallmark of true civility, intertwining the aesthetic and moral life. He outlines best practices for elegance at the table, including over three hundred lines on what to drink and eat (he also offers some recipes for good measure), and how often to bathe, exercise, and copulate. As English writer John Gillingham wrote in his book From Civilitas To Civility, summarizing Beccles, “Moderation in all things, of course, seasonally adjusted. In summer cut back on both hot baths and sex.”
Read More: What Civility Should Really Mean in Our Political Climate
Both Post and Beccles, surprisingly egalitarian for their hierarchical eras, thought that basic civility was required of everyone, and that their rules applied equally to people at all levels of society. While Beccles was a member of the English court, and his book is written in the tone from a father to a son of noble birth, he had a wider intended audience, such as women, clerks, and other laypeople, too. As Beccles wrote, “If you, dear reader, want to be polished with morals and manners, if you want the esteem of worthy men, or want to lead a civilized life among noble lords, to be a shrewd overseer of your property, keep these everlasting verses in mind which I have decided to write in unadorned plain speech for untrained boy-clerks.” For Post, who also came from a privileged background, she was adamant that anyone who studied the ways of common courtesy could be part of what she called “best society.” Her book was used by new immigrants to learn the mores of America, empowering them to better engage with the dominant culture. As Post wrote, “Best society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it take to exclude those who are not of exulted birth; but it is an association of gentle folks… charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of others, are the credentials by which society the world over recognize its chosen members.”
Post and Beccles knew that small actions had big consequences, which is why they encouraged moderation of conduct in all areas of life. They viewed daily manners and expression of service to others as essential to the project of upholding civilization itself. The small things had big consequences—and enough people ignoring the wellbeing of their fellow citizens in the small ways could lead to a quorum of people questioning whether they wanted to remain part of society at all. Anticipating latter-day “manspreaders” and exhibitionists of other varieties, Beccles reminds us to exercise a bit of discretion and self-awareness: “When you belch, remember to look up at the ceiling!… only the head of household is entitled to urinate in the hall!”
Beccles’s overall emphasis that self-control is essential to pax in urbe, to live at peace with one’s neighbors and fellow citizens, is especially a message needed for our fractious days. As historian Anna Bryson observes in “Courtesy to Civility,” few authors besides Beccles have made a clearer connection ‘between good manners and other virtues perceived to promote social harmony and peace in the community.” Beccles encouraged people to love those close to us well in good times and bad: “Cherish beloved family members in peaceful and in turbulent times, and cherish dear companions equally.” He encouraged order and unity among neighbors, avoiding strife and violence: “Be a compassionate person, forbearing and good to your neighbours, not a spark fostering anger, lit with fury.”
For example, both Post and Beccles have exhaustive advice for table manners, but they cared about etiquette at the table because of the mutual vulnerability—and potential for violence—in sharing a meal together. Both writers thought that one must do whatever possible to communicate trust and transparency while dining with someone—such as making sure your hands are always visible—which is a recurring maxim found across non-western cultures, too. For example, Post notes conventional wisdom we’ve all heard our mother’s tell us growing up: don’t chew with your mouth full, lest we disgust and antagonize our interlocutor, and no elbows on the table while eating (to avoid making a mess that disrupts the convivial affair)—although Post did make a concession for elbow on the table during post dinner conversation. These rules served an overarching purpose: to reduce the anxiety, fear, and disgust that can so often define communal dining, and to promote the project of social harmony and civilization itself.
Showing control over one’s body and conduct at the dinner table in small ways—how one wielded the potentially lethal weapons of forks and knives—put everyone at ease. They saw everyday interactions and courteousness toward others as an essential part of the project of social harmony and peace. Every citizen had the duty to uphold peace and social order.
Despite their emphasis that there was in fact a certain “correctness” to our conduct in various social circumstances, they also recognized a reality that George Bernard Shaw once aptly observed, “If you will only take the trouble always to do the perfectly correct thing, and to say the perfectly correct thing, you can do just what you like.” They understood that the hallmark of true civility wasn’t found in blind compliance with arbitrary rules, but in a general regard for the needs and preferences of others alongside ourselves—and that such regard was non-negotiable when it came to harmonious communal life. As Post wrote, “Consideration for the rights and feelings of others is not merely a rule for behavior in public but the very foundation upon which social life is built.” She thought it was in bad taste to dwell on formal trivialities, and the social shortcomings of others. She cautioned, “It is not the people who make small technical mistakes or even blunders, who are barred from the powers of good society, but those of the sham and pretense whose veneer vulgarity at every step tramples the flowers in the gardens of cultivation.” They punctured class markers and helped people just navigate life together—navigate differences of class, status and more. Both thought the same general principles applied to people of all walks of life.
Division and strife in human life is nothing new. Life with others is always full of joys and perils. Despite differences in time and place, some things—like human nature, or the basics of what helps the human community flourish—don’t change. A close study of Emily Post reveals this, as well as the fact that today, civility—basic restraint of our wants for the sake of others—and not mere politeness, can help us navigate our deep differences.
Today, it’s easy to look around us and feel like we live in what must be among the most uncivil eras in history. At the national level, our public leaders fail to model common decency for those with whom they disagree. At the individual level, friendships and family relationships have been increasingly—and tragically—severed over differences of opinion. It’s no question that we struggle with civility now, but the truth is, we always have. Post and Beccles guided their own eras in navigating differences, perhaps the lessons they posited can help us now. And when in doubt, remember this timeless wisdom from Beccles’ Liber Urbani, appropriate for our own era of rampant public blaming and shaming: “Don’t ridicule your fellow if he makes a mistake; if you know the right way, correct him politely.”