All due respect

I totally disagree with that old cliché "respect has to be earned". I think everyone should be respected until such time as they do something that forfeits that respect.

A complete stranger is as worthy of respect as an old friend you've known for years. They deserve respect simply because they're another vulnerable human being, with the same feelings and needs and weaknesses.

If a person hasn't "earned" respect, does that mean I can treat them as badly as I like, kick them around, abuse them, until such time as they've qualified for better treatment? Whose barbaric idea is that?

This absurd principle is trotted out all the time to justify hostile attitudes towards immigrants, welfare claimants, single mothers and all sorts of minorities people don't want to treat decently.

It means people are regarded as second-class citizens unless they've jumped through all sorts of demeaning and ingratiating hoops to raise their status.

It's like saying people have to earn kindness, or courtesy, or fairness. Shouldn't these be the normal way to behave?

Do we say a new-born baby has to earn our respect? Do we say a dinner guest has to earn our respect? Of course not.

Everyone deserves an initial respect, be they malodorous beggars, beer-slurping couch potatoes or clock-watching pen-pushers. Surely respect should be the norm unless it's forfeited by something unforgivable or reprehensible? Or unless the person's actually attacking or robbing you.

To my mind, respect is the cornerstone of a civilised society. It's not some prize to be competed for. It's not a carrot on the end of a stick. It's a basic right.

Snobbery

I know all about snobbish-ness. I've experi-enced plenty of it in my time. Sometimes I think my birth-country of England is snobbery capital of the world. Most of the English are obsessed with their position in the social hierarchy, looking down on anyone supposedly below them and feeling inferior to anyone seen as above them.

Being lower middle class myself (he says, reluctantly categorising himself), I've been given the cold shoulder regularly by those who regard themselves as financially, culturally, educationally or occupationally superior.

I especially remember the time Jenny and I lived in a posh block of flats in Islington, London. Some of the other residents, mostly high-end professionals like lawyers and doctors, were always slightly sniffy towards us, seeing us as "not quite one of them", suspecting us of dubious tastes and opinions, and generally on the lookout for unpredictable and embarrassing behaviour.

They seldom invited us in for a drink or a meal, did their best to avoid us and seemed to regard us as temporary interlopers who had somehow tricked our way into their prestigious block of flats*.

During our time in London, I can recall many social occasions where those present would form into cliques of perceived similar-status guests, each clique keeping themselves firmly separate from those seen as lower status, and taking care not to mix with them or in any way recognise their presence. Such recognition could irredeemably damage their own social standing.

I wonder why it is that people are so insecure and self-doubting that they find mere contact with someone from a different background so threatening. They must be terrified that their own lifestyle will be found wanting.

As an ex-journalist and ex-bookseller who has mixed with people from all sorts of backgrounds and with every possible viewpoint, and having learnt a great deal on the way, I find such aloofness baffling and pointless. How can we possibly begin to understand the rest of the world if we try to permanently seal ourselves off from it?

It was extremely refreshing to move to Northern Ireland, where people are much less status-conscious and plumbers and chief executives mingle quite happily without regarding each other as an alien species. Shock horror, they may even live next door to each other.

* PS: Not that this bothered us particularly. We were perfectly happy without their company. We had some good friends there who didn't have an ounce of snobbery. And we had plenty of other friends. We found the snobs more amusing than upsetting. 

Thanks to Cheerful Monk for the inspiration. 

Slobs and go-getters

Are we naturally lazy or naturally hard-working? Are human beings designed to slob around all day doing nothing useful or to get stuck into something and enjoy a sense of achievement?

Some people are happy to live lives of total indolence, slumped on the settee with a six-pack watching crap movies, while others are working all hours running a business or cleaning their homes from top to bottom.

So who's normal and who's peculiar? Or is it just individual temperament? Or the way we've been brought up?

It's partly what we see as important, and what makes us feel secure and comfortable. If the sight of dust and grime and sagging curtains makes us feel ashamed or inadequate, we'll rush around hoovering and wiping and repairing. If an office intray full of weeks-old memos makes us feel pathetic or disorganised, we'll spring into life and deal with them.

If such feelings never bother you, you can sprawl around all day in a state of untroubled serenity.

Status sneaks in as well. Someone who's acutely status-conscious, obsessed with how their life compares with neighbours or workmates, will be frantically plotting to earn more, have a flashier home or be more glamorously dressed. So they'll put in the hard graft to get what they lack and keep up with the Joneses.

Those who're indifferent to status even if their home is a crumbling tip next to a spotless mansion, won't lift a finger.

And don't forget ambition. Some people simply want to be the best at something, to set themselves high standards, while others muddle along doing the minimum they can get away with.

I have to admit my own fits of hard work are due more to a guilty conscience than any natural urge for strenuous labour. I've never been hung-up on status. And I've never been ambitious. Listening to Lissie Maurus in a pleasant alcoholic haze will do me fine.

A touch of class

Do any of us still seriously think of ourselves as this class or that, as middle class or working class (or even upper class)? I suppose we do, when for some reason we're forced to.

If you push me, I would describe myself as middle class, though that's more a knee-jerk response than a reality. What does it actually mean apart from fairly well-off, respectable, an office worker, a law-abiding citizen?

And if you look closely, that label's a bit bogus anyway. I have relatives who were once shop assistants or machinists, or lived in seedy neighbourhoods, or were stony broke. In short who definitely came from the wrong side of the tracks. So can I really claim middle class status?

A lot of the time we only use these labels to make ourselves feel good. If I'm a sweat-soaked manual worker, I can complain about the la-di-da middle classes who never did a proper day's work in their lives. If I'm a target-driven office manager, I can moan about the feckless working classes who live on benefits at the taxpayers' expense. At least I'm a cut above the other lot.

Supposedly everyone aspires to a middle class lifestyle. But do they really or is that just another bit of advertising bollocks? What's so wonderful about a suburban semi, a crippling mortgage, a chock-full pending tray and business plans?

My aspirations are rather different. Some interesting people to hang out with, a comfortable chair to ruminate in, some tasty food and some intelligent books are quite enough to keep me happy. The des res in a leafy cul de sac is a nice fringe benefit, but only after the rest is catered for.

Middle class or working class, does it really matter?

PS: Yes, I know, there's also the Marxist option of ruling class or working class, but that doesn't make much sense nowadays either.

PIC: Jon Hamm and January Jones in Mad Men. Taken by Annie Leibovitz for Vanity Fair.