A Matter of Respect

Respect. That’s the subject of the argument I had with my husband a few days ago, and we haven’t yet resolved it. Before you think I’m getting you involved with a mundane family squabble, though, let me present a broader purpose. 

Like many folks, my husband has an (un)healthy addiction to YouTube videos.  Cutting grass, cutting wood, cleaning houses, and cleaning out storage lockers are among his beloved favorites; like many people, he seems to enjoy ASMR-style videos (which provide visual and auditory stimuli that comforts and soothes the brain). Recently, however, he has started watching bizarre courtroom footage of people who call themselves “Sovereign Citizens.” 

“Sovereign Citizens” believe that every person has two identities: their real, human self (authentic) and a government-created “persona,” (inauthentic) which they consider to be an artificial way of tracking their identity, by way of birth certificates and driver's licenses. They consider any attempt to govern their “persona” to be a farce. Thus, any encounter with law enforcement (usually traffic stops) are opportunities to argue with police officers that they don’t need to provide government “persona” identification. Instead, they claim they are “traveling” rather than driving, so no license needed! When they fail to produce a driver’s license, as they often do, they wind up in front of a judge, pleading their case. 

My husband was watching one such court proceeding the other day as a “traveler” entered the courtroom and failed to remove his hat. The judge was furious. He admonished the man, demanding that he remove his hat or be held in contempt of court. My husband readily agreed, and with misplaced outrage at this stranger on our television screen, stated, “Yea! Take off your hat! It’s a matter of respect!” he said to the screen.

After I reminded him that neither the judge nor the defendant could hear him, he shifted his elevated annoyance my way. I then took the opportunity to playfully challenge his aggravation (what are spouses for, after all). I also had a small point to make.

I noted that many folks today, especially Millennials and Gen Z-ers, question what they consider to be arbitrary rules, such as removing hats inside buildings, restaurants, courtrooms, etc. They are challenging long-standing traditions and practices by asking: Why do I have to wear a suit and tie to work? Why do I have to take my husband’s last name? and one I could get on board with: Why do I have to attend the extended family Christmas party every year? 

Why do we follow certain norms that with no clear rationale? After all, some of society’s asks are unnecessary and confusing, and it’s sometimes healthy to ask “why do we do what we do?” Simply answering "because it’s always been done this way;" "it’s tradition;" or "we do it out of respect," no longer flies for people under the age of 50, and maybe they have a point. Maybe it’s time to re-examine some of our lesser explained social expectations (did I mention the Christmas party?). 

I realize that the concept is not new. Younger generations have been rebelling against “the establishment” ever since caveman fathers were puzzled when their cave children preferred noshing on berries to chewing wooly mammoth steaks, and even though hindsight reveals that new perspectives and practices can lead to innovation and the advancement of our society, we often resist change in the moment for emotional or sentimental reasons, citing “tradition” or “respect” as the easy answer. 

As for the whens and whys of “hat etiquette,” I consulted a few long-standing experts. First,

for the whens, Levine Hat Company (founded in 1903), states that for men,  “Hats are to be removed when inside…during the playing of the National Anthem… for the passing of the Flag and funeral processions, outdoor weddings, dedications and photographs.”

Oddly, though, none of these rules apply to women. None. I’m going to hold Levine to that. I like being the exception to a rule. (Maybe, at 61, it makes me feel youthfully rebellious). 

Second, Emily Post, the quintessential knower of all things “manners,” attempts to explain the whys on her website Emily Post Etiquette, stating: “If you were a medieval knight who failed to remove his helmet or lift his visor and identify himself the consequences could be fatal.” Admittedly, this life or death example might be a bit antiquated, but since the hat etiquette rules don’t apply to women, I’m good either way. After all, it’s not my head. 

In many cases, though, people don’t know the when or why of a variety of traditions, let alone spend needless time online to better understand why we do what we do. So, what is the big deal? Why do we follow arbitrary rules as a society? 

Shirley Jackson has a unique take on the whys of tradition in her disturbing short story “The Lottery, which was written and published almost eighty years ago. You may have read it in high school, and if you did, you might still be creeped out! The story follows a small town community as they gather in the town square to execute their yearly tradition (emphasis intended). They draw a name from a box, and, (well, see aforementioned emphasis.)  I’ll spare you the obvious ending, but throughout the story, Jackson makes it nauseatingly clear that not only are all the tools and elements used to carry-out the tradition starting to physically fall apart, no one in the town even knows why the continue the tradition. The story’s chilling ending is a warning to us all: For the good of all, a society must periodically question and examine it's traditions.

Surprisingly, I haven’t read that story to my husband yet, but I’m not sure he’ll be receptive to his retired English teacher wife giving him a literature lesson, especially from such a dark story. Let’s just say, English wasn’t his favorite subject in school.

Thus, the “tradition debate” continues in my house, but with a twist. My husband has begun to play his own devil’s advocate and question almost every unexplained tradition, etc. Now, He enjoys playfully challenging me regarding why we do whatever practice is a issue, even threatening to stop following said tradition because he doesn’t have to. In fact, now when I ask him to do something or go somewhere because of a certain societal or traditional expectation, he questions why. When I push back (as I’m inclined to do), he answers with the time-honored: “if everyone jumped off of a cliff, would you follow?”

Since I'm all about fair play, the next time he asks me that question, I think I might answer: “Maybe, if they were all wearing hats. After all, it’s out of respect!”