L
Londoner
Guest
I wonder whether part of the reason for the lack of deference in Britain is a reaction against the very hierarchical, deferential culture that existed in our society until very recently. Canada, on the other hand, adopted the Nickle Resolution over 100 years ago, which both reflected and reinforced cultural differences between Canada and the UK.
Growing up in the UK, one learned the strict hierarchies of the class system. A duke is addressed as “Your Grace”, a bishop as “My Lord”, and a knight as “Sir First Name”. When addressing an envelope, a gentleman is “Mr John Smith”, rather than the grander “John Smith, Esq.”, which is reserved for sons of noblemen and knights, officers in the armed forces, barristers, university graduates with a minimum of an MA degree, and other select representatives of the upper echelons of society. One learns early on that somebody who went to public school ranks above somebody who went to grammar school or (lowliest of all) comprehensive school and somebody who went to Oxford or Cambridge ranks above somebody who went to a red brick or plate glass university. Whole generations of men found themselves defined as “officer class” or “other ranks”, a distinction that could define somebody’s whole life, not just the brief period of it actually spent in the armed forces.
The decline and fall of the British class system came about rather suddenly around the end of the 20th century. My feeling is that the British took to this newfound situation with such enthusiasm that we began to erase all marks of hierarchy and deference. Would I call the archbishop of Canterbury “Justin”? Probably not, although I am sure that he wouldn’t mind or be particularly surprised. The standard form these days is “Archbishop Justin”. A couple of years ago a recorder of the Crown Court greeted me saying, “I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t call me John”, adding, “You probably shouldn’t call me John in court, I think that might look a little odd”. Personally, I rather like that, but I also think it’s in part because when I was growing up here the deference one was expected to show to one’s superiors was quite oppressive (and one’s “superiors” in many cases simply meant people who had been born to wealth and privilege).
Growing up in the UK, one learned the strict hierarchies of the class system. A duke is addressed as “Your Grace”, a bishop as “My Lord”, and a knight as “Sir First Name”. When addressing an envelope, a gentleman is “Mr John Smith”, rather than the grander “John Smith, Esq.”, which is reserved for sons of noblemen and knights, officers in the armed forces, barristers, university graduates with a minimum of an MA degree, and other select representatives of the upper echelons of society. One learns early on that somebody who went to public school ranks above somebody who went to grammar school or (lowliest of all) comprehensive school and somebody who went to Oxford or Cambridge ranks above somebody who went to a red brick or plate glass university. Whole generations of men found themselves defined as “officer class” or “other ranks”, a distinction that could define somebody’s whole life, not just the brief period of it actually spent in the armed forces.
The decline and fall of the British class system came about rather suddenly around the end of the 20th century. My feeling is that the British took to this newfound situation with such enthusiasm that we began to erase all marks of hierarchy and deference. Would I call the archbishop of Canterbury “Justin”? Probably not, although I am sure that he wouldn’t mind or be particularly surprised. The standard form these days is “Archbishop Justin”. A couple of years ago a recorder of the Crown Court greeted me saying, “I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t call me John”, adding, “You probably shouldn’t call me John in court, I think that might look a little odd”. Personally, I rather like that, but I also think it’s in part because when I was growing up here the deference one was expected to show to one’s superiors was quite oppressive (and one’s “superiors” in many cases simply meant people who had been born to wealth and privilege).