The next day, I took a train from New York to New Haven, Conn. A digital advertising board encouraged riders at various moments to buy cryptocurrency and attend Fordham University and take winter vacations in Stratton, Vt. But it also flashed messages about showing conductors respect and letting them enjoy a decent work environment, too. Assaulting conductors, we were warned, carries penalties of up to seven years in prison.
There have always been public messages instructing people, but they used to suggest working together toward a common good. “See something, say something,” for example, was about having more eyes and ears on terrorists to secure collective safety. Now the messages are simpler and pleading: Stop being a jerk.
Maybe manners don’t matter, but people in government have seen how this plays out. In recent years, all kinds of public workers — certainly health officials and election administrators and school board members — have been subjected to torrents of abuse. If you’re elected mayor, you can count on having protesters show up at your house, disrupting your sleep and that of your neighbors.
Politicians have always needed thick skin. Now they practically require armor. I’ve talked with county officials who’ve had to go into hiding, state legislators who’ve described death threats they’ve gotten and city council members who’ve had intimidating lasers pointed into their children’s bedrooms.
Our era of confrontational politics has helped set the tone. Even the most ardent admirers of Donald Trump wouldn’t call him a paragon of good manners. In fact, part of his appeal is his habit of constant punching and counterpunching.
Conversely, when an assassin’s bullet grazed Trump’s ear in July, rather than piercing his skull, I heard people lament the near miss. Back in 2020, when Trump contracted COVID-19, there were also people openly rooting for his death.
Last weekend, Vice President-elect JD Vance invited Daniel Perry, who’d just been acquitted of murdering a New York subway rider, to join him in Trump’s suite at the Army-Navy football game. Perry was found innocent, but should he be celebrated by an incoming administration for choking a man to death?
At the moment, there’s also celebration of Luigi Mangione, who’s been charged with murdering UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson. One poll this week showed that more Americans between the ages of 18 and 29 found the killing acceptable than found it unacceptable (41 percent, compared to 40 percent). Another poll found adults under 30 are more likely to view Mangione favorably (39 percent) than unfavorably (30 percent). To keep perspective, both polls did show that adults overall disapprove of Mangione and his alleged actions. But it was far from unanimous.
In January, I spoke with GOP Gov. Spencer Cox of Utah about his “disagree better” initiative, calling on Americans to turn the heat down on their disputes. “It ends one of two ways,” Cox said. “Either we collectively decide that we’re not going to hate our fellow Americans, or we start shooting each other. And that, sadly, is the path we are headed on right now.”
We seem to be there already. On the way to the theater in Manhattan, I passed graffiti that read, “Kill More CEO's.”
Who knows what stew of social media and tribal politics and contemporary, everyone-gets-a-trophy parenting has left so many people entitled and rude?
For myself, I don’t claim to be any kind of exemplar. I can be curt, certainly sarcastic and constantly make jokes that would get me canceled if I had any sort of prominent public profile.
But you don’t have to live too long to realize that people all around you may be dealing with problems you can’t guess at by looking at them, whether grief over a lost loved one or relatives addicted to drugs or simply surviving a miserable commuting experience.
It seems simple enough to try to lead with kindness, but think about how many times you've encountered bumper stickers or T-shirts that tell you to fuck off, either that bluntly or in so many words? Road rage is so endemic that you don’t have to read lips, you can read the angry body language emanating from other cars.
When I say “Hi, how are you” to a waitress, she’ll often act delighted, like I’ve handed her a $20 tip. It's just surprise at acknowledgement. I’ve done an informal but longstanding survey on this. When servers ask customers how they are, about half ask them how they’re doing in return. But half say something dismissive like, “Water, no ice.”
We’ve all gotten used to dealing with machines and treating service workers like they have no feelings. No sympathy for scammers, but when legitimate telemarketers call me, I tell them I’m sorry they have such a crappy job before hanging up on them.
I was in New York for a memorial service. As one of the speakers started talking, his phone rang. He complained it must be a junk call. “Motherfucker, don’t call me!” the speaker yelled.
That got a laugh. I’d like to say it was a nervous laugh, but it was the laugh of revenge, the same sort of laugh that expresses itself in glee when a CEO from a hated industry gets gunned down in the street.
This is supposed to be the season of caring and compassion. Even those who practice kindness know the feelings won’t always last past the holidays. But maybe we can make that a New Year’s resolution that will stick.
