The social dis-ease of being English

FOR the past three years, anthropologist Kate Fox has frequented pubs, railway stations, shopping centres and race meetings to observe the social rules which English people obey, regardless of their class. She has gone against all the unwritten rules of being English, bumping into people, talking to complete strangers and jumping queues, in order to gauge our reactions.

The result is Watching the English, The Hidden Rules of English Behaviour, in which Fox, the co-director of the Social Issues Research Centre in Oxford, has defined exactly what it is that makes the English quite so English.

She has looked at how the English greet each other; how we queue, dress and flirt; the minefield that is the class system; our obsession with the weather, pets and DIY. And her conclusions aren't particularly flattering. The core of Englishness, she says is "social dis-ease", a shorthand term for all the chronic social inhibitions and handicaps which manifest themselves itself in embarrassment, insularity, emotional constipation and an obsession with privacy.

But while the symptoms are easily recognisable, the causes are not. Fox says: "To be honest, I don't really know why the English are the way we are - and, nor, if they are being honest, does anyone else.

"The important point, which I hope is now clear, is that Englishness is not a matter of birth, race, colour or creed: it is a mindset, an ethos, a behavioural "grammar" - a set of unwritten codes that might seem enigmatic, but that anyone can decipher and apply now that we have the key."

Here are just a few examples:

Queuing

IN 1946, the Hungarian humourist George Mikes described queuing as our national passion. "On the Continent," he said, "if people are waiting at a bus stop, they loiter around in a seemingly vague fashion. When the bus arrives they make a dash for it...An Englishman, even if he is alone, forms an orderly queue of one."

Fox clarifies this with her own observations. "The English expect each other to observe the rules of queuing, feel highly offended when the rules are violated, but lack the confidence or social skills to express their annoyance in a straightforward manner," she says.

"Paradoxically, it is only in England, where queue-jumping is regarded as deeply immoral, that the queue-jumper is likely to get away with the offence."

The Monday-morning Moan

MOANING at work is a well-established ritual. On Monday mornings, for example, in every workplace in England, from factories and shops to offices and boardrooms, someone will be conducting a Monday-morning moan. It is universally understood that everyone hates Mondays; that we all had trouble dragging ourselves out of bed; that we really could have done with an extra day to get over the week; that the traffic/tube/train buses seem to be getting worse and worse. Once initial moaning is over, everyone gets back to work until the next moaning opportunity - usually the first coffee break.

Pets

FOR the English, keeping pets is not so much a leisure activity as a way of life. The unwritten rules allow our dogs and cats to sprawl all over our sofas and chairs. They are adored and over-indulged and 'petiquette' absolutely forbids the criticism of another person's pets - even if they are trying to mate with your leg.

The average Englishman will avoid social interaction with his fellow humans but has no difficulty in conducting a lively conversation with a dog.

Fox says: "You see, the English really are quite capable of Latin-Mediterranean warmth, enthusiasm and hospitality; we can be just as direct and approachable and emotive and tactile as any of the so-called 'contact cultures'. It is just that these qualities are only consistently expressed in our interaction with animals.

"No wonder animals are so important to the English: for many of us, they represent our only significant experience of open, unguarded, emotional involvement with another sentient being."

The Weather

AS a nation, we're obsessed with it. Dr Johnson said: "When two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather." Two hundred years later, it is still true.

Everyone knows that "Nice day, isn't it?" and "Still raining, eh?" aren't requests for meteorological data but ritual greetings, conversation starters or fillers.

Fox says: "Weather-speak can be used as a simple greeting, an ice-breaker or when conversation falters and there's an awkward lull. Hence the impression that we talk of little else; it is easy to see why many foreigners assume we're obsessed. The unpredictable nature of our weather makes it particularly suitable for the job of easing social interaction."

The M&S Test

SHOPPING is bound by complex class rules and Marks & Spencer, the quintessentially English high street name, provides the means to understand them.

The upper-middles buy food in the expensive food halls and are happy to buy their underwear there but will rarely buy any other clothes. They would never buy a party dress and are squeamish about M&S shoes, no matter how comfortable or well made they are. They will buy towels and bed linen but not sofas, curtains or cushions.

The middle-middles also buy M&S food, although those on a lower budget would not do their entire shop there. They often moan about the high prices but tell themselves it's worth it for the quality. They buy a wider range of clothes and are happy to buy sofas, cushions and curtains.

Lower-middles buy M&S food but only usually as a treat and regard anyone who shops here regularly as extravagant or possibly stuck up. M&S clothes are generally regarded as good value by the genteel sort of lower middles. Some feel the same about cushions, duvets and towels, while others regard them as nice but too pricey.

This test only works on women. Men are oblivious to the social rules that govern shopping.

*Watching the English by Kate Fox (Hodder & Stoughton, £20).