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Traditional courtesy
Yesterday someone asked me if I had thought about writing a book about norms of courtesy, and I said I might at least attempt a blogpost. My questioner is planning a party but has not received sufficient RSVPs to feel confident that the event can go forward. Anxiety reigns.
When I was a child …
When I think about RSVPs, I remember the sweet little birthday party invitations that were a staple of my childhood, and of the black rotary phone on the kitchen wall. Mothers would call the mother of the birthday child, dialling the number listed beside “RSVP,” names would be ticked on, or crossed off, the hosting mother’s list, and the party would go forward. Presents were given in lieu of thank you notes.
Communications were a lot more physical back then: invitations were cardboard, and telephones were employed several times a day. Even twenty years ago, it was absolutely normal to telephone a list of people, and dialling or punching in all the numbers wasn’t considered particularly onerous. Nor was it a terrible shock for someone to be telephoned by an acquaintance out of the blue. Such spontaneous communications were expected as part of daily life.
Is technology to blame?
My first impulse, when wondering why people do not RSVP, thus causing their would-be hosts acute discomfort, is to blame technology. There is something shallow about online communications; I have read reports that something read on a screen is less likely to stay fixed in the memory than something read on paper. Internet messages also create an impersonal distance between the sender and receiver. The receiver is at their leisure to reply: there is no afternoon post to consider, or telephone to pick up. Because the response is deemed something for later and the electronic invitation falls out of memory, the desired guest never responds. He or she just turns up–or not.
I don’t know how Gen Z feels about this, but it is hellish for Gen X because, 30/40 years ago, such silences betokened deep disdain and hinted at schoolyard contempt. (“Did she invite you, too-oo?” “Yeah, as if.” “Yeah. I mean, please. Gag me with a spoon.”)
Is modern parenting to blame?
My second impulse, however, is to wonder if the “being friends” trend in parenthood hasn’t killed children’s education in basic courtesy. When I was a child (a much maligned phrase), I was ordered to get on the telephone and thank adults for their gifts to me. But when my mother was a child, parents stood over their progeny until they finished writing actual thank you letters. “Why should I? I never asked her for it” was not accepted as an excuse.
Incidentally, camp counsellors also stood over children to ensure that they wrote letters home to their parents. (How lovely that filial piety was once encouraged, not constantly undermined, by society at large.)
I am not a parent, but I like to think that if I were a parent, I would train my children in the basic norms of courtesy expected of people before the Deluge (c. 1963). However, in the “being friends” spirit, I would explain the social logic behind every custom.
Social logic
The social logic is both selfish and altruistic. First, if someone gives you something nice, whether that’s a Cabbage Patch Doll or a five-course meal and an evening’s entertainment, you want to reward them for, and encourage them in, this pleasant behaviour. When ill-fortune befalls you, they are probably the people most likely to help. (Strangely, adolescents seem to take kindness for granted and strive to win the favour of people who treat them badly or with indifference, a tendency that has given rise to endless romance novels.)
Second, if someone gives you something nice, it means they like you enough to be hurt by your indifference. As Christians we must love our enemies–but we must also strive not to hurt those who wish us well. One must be particularly kind to the elderly, who (thanks to the Deluge’s obsession with Youth) are told in a dozen ways every day that they don’t matter.
When you ignore a gift or an invitation, you are telling the giver that he or she doesn’t matter.
Dealing with unwanted gifts and invitations
Now, obviously there are unwanted gifts (because, for example, it is inappropriate for the giver to give them to you) and unwanted invitations.
If a young person finds himself or herself the recipient of an overly personal (e.g. negligรฉe, dressing gown) or expensive (diamonds) gift, the best thing to do is to refuse them at once. (“No, I couldn’t possibly accept such a personal/expensive gift from you. Really. And now I must go.”)
And if a young person discovers an unwanted invitation in his or her inbox/social media/mailbox, the best thing to do is to refuse that at once. That way he or she can put it out of mind, and the person who invited him or her can–after, perhaps, a small sting of disappointment–adjust his or her plans accordingly.
The expense and anxiety of planning parties
Parties and other social events can take a lot of planning. This is especially true of weddings, for which many poor couples desperately attempt to resurrect the social customs of yesteryear–actual partner dancing (The First Dance, Bride Dances With Her Father, etc), evening wear, engraved invitations–and spend staggering sums of money. Caterers charge by the head, so the bride and groom really, really, REALLY need to know who is coming ASAP.
If you don’t want to go to a wedding, but don’t want to offend the bride and groom, RSVP your regrets ASAP and send a present.
But even a Sunday lunch party takes planning, and if a cash-strapped student is giving the party, he would like to know before shopping how much pasta he needs to buy and whether there is room in the budget for a mushroom or two.
After accepting an invitation, it is bad form to change your mind at the last minute. However, even before the Deluge, illness and a death in the family excused you from honouring your pledge. Naturally, it is not good manners to absent yourself merely because a better opportunity has turned up.
Will parties die?
One might ask, “If parties are so stressful, why have them?” The answer to this is that parties, when they include enough guests, and when the guests all enter into the spirit of the thing, are great fun. Human beings have always had parties. Parties are a part of traditional human culture. They create social bonds through reciprocity. Hosts invite guests to parties, and guests usually invite their hosts to their own parties in return.
However, it is possible that parties no longer have the same meaning they did when my generation pinned tails to paper donkeys or talked for four years about its eventual Graduation Formal/Leavers’ Ball/Prom.
For example, nobody needs to go to a party to taste special foods, like cake. Cake is now one of the cheapest foodstuffs out there, and if your parents aren’t there to stop you, you can chow down on cake until you are ill. Also, nobody needs to go to a party to be entertained. You can find entertainment 24/7 online. If you want amorous adventures, you can find those online, too, and ghost your partner in online flirtation when he or she suggests flying in to see you.
However, human beings are gregarious. Even though our lazy brains will constantly try to find the easiest way to get what we need or want, human beings will always long for a sense of connection with other human beings that the internet can’t quite provide. Therefore, I don’t think parties will die although I do think hosts will have to be a lot more creative in attracting people to them—at least until our era of unsurpassed abundance and unlimited options comes to an end.
Unsurpassed abundance and unlimited options, by the way, are something traditional families don’t have, so I suspect traditionalists will keep on going to each others’ parties. However, even we need to learn to RSVP.
To buy tickets for the Eastertide Dance 2025, please contact me at info@tradcathsocialdancing.co.uk.