DEAR MISS MANNERS: It would seem that we have lost the art of social shunning.

I simply ignore and have nothing to do with bad people in public, or in my private life. As mentioned, you quickly move away in obvious horror from such people when you see or encounter them. They will eventually get it. If not, no loss to me.

GENTLE READER: Lost the art of social shunning?

On the contrary; it has spun out of control. There are two new versions: Shaming and Cancel Culture. Miss Manners congratulates you for refraining from using these weapons casually.

Yet excluding people whom one -- or society -- considers reprehensible is etiquette’s chief form of defense (other than setting an example of courtesy in the face of rudeness, which doesn’t always have noticeable results). While the law can administer harsh penalties when it is flouted, disapproval is the only sanction etiquette has against rudeness, and this has often been dismissed as ridiculously weak.

But for centuries, children born outside of marriage received lifetime stigmas. When bans and quotas against races or religions were legally challenged, codified bigotry persisted in private institutions, including not just clubs, but neighborhoods and schools.

And the ease of going public online has encouraged rash -- and sometimes unfounded -- judgments against individuals and businesses, without gradations of punishment suited to the severity of the transgression.

Vigilante rule is cruel and unjust. So: Is Miss Manners willing to surrender etiquette’s one weapon?

No.

Much atrocious behavior has been exposed. Unmistakable photographic evidence has documented actions that had otherwise been easily denied.

The old warning was, ”Don’t do anything you would be ashamed to see on the front page of the paper.” Now, even shameless people should realize that there are consequences to being seen online with behavior that they used to get away with doing.

Miss Manners lives in hope that people will learn to care enough about their reputations to curb their offensive words and deeds. But that requires a belief in reputations, and an adjustment on the part of well-meaning society to the popular concept of being nonjudgmental.

That must be the phenomenon to which you are referring: The charitable habit of nullifying misdeeds by conferring instant forgiveness, even for the unforgivable. At its most touching, it is the bereaved forgiving the murderer. At its least charming, it is those who lionize audacious criminals.

Deeds count. Miss Manners is bewildered by the current explanation of wrongdoers: “That is not who I am.”

Well, then, who is it who did what you did? Whom do we hold accountable? And what if your doppelganger takes over again?

Miss Manners is not without mercy in viewing those accounts. She requires accusers to be sure of their facts and to keep their condemnation in proportion to the transgressions. She believes in redemption through remorse and reparations.

And she agrees with you about avoiding pointless street confrontations.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it polite to tell someone that their book has a typographical error?

GENTLE READER: Only when the book is being prepared for a second edition. Or if the first edition was so small that the author can easily do hand corrections in each copy.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I work at a very small cafe. Because of COVID-19, our indoor capacity is limited to 25%, which is a maximum of 10 people. In good weather, we can use our outdoor seating to accommodate an additional 10 to 14.

Yesterday, the weather was great, so we were very busy all day long. We currently close at 2 a.m., but last night, two women sat at one of our tables for almost an hour and a half after closing. We had already taken down our sign, closed the checks for the four other tables, cleared their dishes, wiped off the tables, closed the registers, paid out tips, got our deposit ready, sent home the dishwasher and one of the cooks, and even turned off most of the lights inside.

Without being rude, how do you ask people to leave? The owner (and chef) finally went out and spoke with them nicely, and they left. But for over an hour, we felt stuck. How should we approach this next time without risking a bad review?

GENTLE READER: “I am sorry, but we are closing,” accompanied, perhaps, by an apologetic look at the “Closed” placard -- a look that says, “I wish I could control the signs.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Due to an unfortunate experience with Victorian novels and my dear grandmother, I was led to understand that the only things that should sparkle on a lady during the day are her wedding jewelry and her eyes. Therefore, I have long been mystified to see, in daylight, perfectly ladylike women in sequin-covered evening wear as if they were appearing on TV.

Now, a few decades later, I have observed women at the office, the beach and the grocery store wearing sequins on random bits of clothing, including face masks. Can Miss Manners please update us on the proper wearing of sequins and other sparkling things for the modern lady?

GENTLE READER: Sparkly things should not be worn by grown-ups during the day. Neither should dangling earrings -- but clearly only Miss Manners, you and the heroines of the unfortunate Victorian novels you’re reading know and follow the rules.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: From time to time, I get a text or an email where someone gives me vastly personal information as they apologize. Someone just wrote me and said they are sorry they did not ship my package on time because on Saturday, a family member died of pancreatic cancer.

How exactly am I supposed to respond? Do I focus on the condolences? Or do I say what is on my mind, which is that an apology really is not even necessary?

When I get these I always feel paralyzed. I just need to know how you would respond!

GENTLE READER: Yes, you should focus on the condolences. The recently bereaved are understandably disoriented and can have a misplaced sense of time, normalcy and how and when to share their unfortunate news. So yes, they may tend to over-explain. Miss Manners recommends that you politely and compassionately indulge them.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I know you have recommended moving away from others who choose not to wear masks during the pandemic. What is the proper response to retail or other service providers who wear their masks hanging below their noses?

This has happened to me twice lately. At a car lot, three salesmen were lingering by the showroom door, and one had his mask below his nose. I stopped and said, “You know that mask doesn’t work if it’s not covering your nose.”

He gave me a slightly perturbed look, pulled up his mask and opened the door for me. Was I out of line?

Today, a bank clerk was opening an account for me wearing a stylish mask that was clearly too large for her. It kept dropping below her nose. After trying a few times to pull it up, she gave up and left it hanging below her nose.

Rather than say anything, I simply scooted my chair back a few more feet. This episode was all the more disconcerting because her colleague had just confided (in a separate office) that several family members were infected with COVID-19 and her father wasn’t expected to survive.

I try to get curbside delivery and order online, but it’s not always possible. What advice do you have for us to behave politely when we are compelled to conduct business in public?

GENTLE READER: Handle this just as you would if someone inadvertently had spinach in their teeth or toilet paper on a shoe: Politely point it out with the presumption of innocence, rather than blame.

Miss Manners recommends something like, “I’m not sure if you noticed, but your mask seems to have slipped. I would help you, but of course that would defeat the purpose of protecting ourselves from spreading germs. I’ll just step back while you are fixing it.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I decided about 20 years ago that we would always send a written thank-you note (through the mail, with a stamp!) to anyone who invited us to their home. I would say that puts us in the minority these days, but hosts seem delighted to receive notes in the mail.

But when the original invitation is sent to a set of email addresses, we often find that after the event, most other guests use the “reply all” function to thank the host. We are then uncertain about whether we should also join in the email chain of thanks, knowing that we’ve already sent a note to the host through the mail.

If we fail to join in on the emailed thanks, does it seem to the other guests that we didn’t appreciate the invitation? But then, why are we sending both a note by mail AND an email thank-you?

GENTLE READER: Why indeed? Is it possible that the others are using “reply all” so that they can put their gratitude on display? And then once publicly lauded, consider their duty done with no further action needed?

Miss Manners dearly hopes that you will remain steadfast in your personal letter writing and not be swayed by the masses. The reward will presumably be the (continued) delight of your hosts, as it should be.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)