Eeew, disgusting!
That is the noise made by one faction in the historic division between spitters and non-spitters. Miss Manners apologizes that she is incapable of imitating the noise made by the other faction, even for purposes of academic discussion.
After raging for several centuries as an issue dividing nations, cultures, classes and genders, the once ferocious dispute had been calmed. Or so Miss Manners fondly imagined until the SARS epidemic brought it up again.
China, one of the few places where the previously-pretty-much-universal custom of spitting has continued to be practiced, is now engaged in a public campaign to suppress -- or at least contain -- it. The government, whose official venues were furnished with spittoons, has pronounced spitting a "vile habit" as well as a health hazard. But because people are having trouble giving it up, plastic spitting bags are being distributed to limit their range.
All this should sound familiar to Americans, and not just because of the similarity to our public campaign against smoking. It is not yet a hundred years since Americans were considered the world's most incorrigible spitters, and not half that time since spittoons were a prominent feature of the United States Capitol's decor.
In 19th-century America, horses may have made larger donations to the muck covering the streets, but people managed to contribute a sizeable share. Indoors, the only rivalry was between those who merely spit phlegm and those who created a more colorful effect by spitting tobacco. The slime in which office floors, hotel lobbies, theater carpets, church pews and marble hallways were awash was constantly being replenished.
And foreigners were saying, "Eeew, disgusting!"
English visitors were particularly scornful, as their own fastidious compatriots had recently taken to spitting into their handkerchiefs. But in the 18th century, Europeans still had to be admonished to refrain from spitting on dinner tables and drawing room walls.
Miss Manners' interest in the historic progression from spit to sneer is not to promote tolerance for a decidedly uncharming gesture just because there have been periods and places that failed to condemn it.
Rather, she would like to point out that the arguments that were used to justify open spitting should be generally discounted as refutations of etiquette. They are the same ones that one hears now in defense of any annoyance:
1. It's healthy.
Before it was noticed that spitting was helping to spread tuberculosis and now SARS, it was touted as being good for the health. It stood to reason that getting rid of all that nasty phlegm would improve the constitution.
Now that we produce studies to show how unhealthy spitting (and every other human activity) is, this argument has moved to the shiftier area of mental health. The ingenious notion arose that exercising self-restraint has terrible medical consequences.
2. It's natural.
This is a favorite argument of people unfamiliar with the term "natural disaster." Or, to keep it in the range of human impulse, that it is apparently natural for human beings to cross against the light, gorge on chocolate and fall in love with heartless people. There are medical conditions that prompt spitting, but it is not the usual case, and anyway, it can be done discreetly.
3. It's fun.
This was the last ditch argument when ladies had given up the habit and were tired of dragging their skirts through the results of contests among those who felt spittoons were for sissies. What is fun to some but disgusting to others should be done in private.
DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I was hit by a drunk driver a few years ago, it was a chaotic day, and I forgot to call my hairstylist to cancel my appointment. That evening, she called and yelled at me that no one misses her appointments, and that being hit by a drunk driver was no excuse to miss my appointment.
I finally hung up on her. Miss Manners, that stylist not only lost my business, but the business of the rest of my family. Rudeness (on either side) is unacceptable.
GENTLE READER: Whew. Miss Manners thought she was tough, with her dictum that it is unforgivable to break a dinner engagement unless -- got that "unless"? -- you are run over by a truck.
Your decision to break off business relations strikes Miss Manners as wise. One should never offer one's head to a rude person wielding sharp instruments.
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