“‘Sit up straight,’ said mom to Mabel, ‘and keep your elbows off the table!’” This was the silly, somewhat nonsensical rhyme my stepmom used to reprimand us with whenever our table manners got out of line. My brothers and I still chant it now—in jest, of course. For one thing, we’re adults, and for another, who cares anymore? To pull someone up for leaning a casual elbow on the table as they reach for a few more fries feels as outdated as critiquing them for mishandling a grapefruit spoon.
In fact, it’s worse than outdated; it feels actively rude, a form of class-based snobbery akin to mocking hand-me-downs or regional accents. Which is why, when a recent U.K. survey declared certain table manners were “a thing of the past,” I was neither outraged nor surprised. According to the British restaurant chain Prezzo, “almost three quarters (73 percent) of Brits believe people care less about table manners compared to previous generations,” or so they found when they polled 2,000-odd diners.
As for what those table manners include: there are the aforementioned elbows on the table, which 77 percent of Gen-Z don’t care about; starting before other diners’ food has arrived (38 percent don’t care); using a knife and fork “correctly” (77 percent don’t care); and eating off each other’s plates (37 percent don’t care). You could argue, as many will, that this is yet more proof we’re headed to hell in a handcart, or you could see it as a reflection of a more progressive, communal, and enjoyable dining scene.
Take those elbows, for example. The act of leaning in to better reach a dish or hear the conversation reflects enthusiasm for the whole dining experience. Ditto eating off someone else’s plate, which is arguably the result of our growing preference for a sharing-style approach to food. In the last 30 years, the dining landscape on both sides of the pond has transformed beyond all recognition. It’s more diverse, more inclusive, led by good produce rather than propriety. Starched white tablecloths have—for the most part—been replaced with easily cleaned marble or wooden tables, which are far better suited to sharing plates and their attendant splashes and spills.
Then there’s waiting for everyone else’s food to arrive before starting to eat yours, even though you can see its heat dissipating in front of you. Of course, in days of yore, it would have been rude to crack on while your fellow diners were still empty-plated—but that’s because their dishes would have been mere seconds away. In this boldly flavored new world, we’re told, food comes “when it’s ready”—and when it does, we all cry, “Start, please, while it’s hot!” to the lucky recipient. That’s assuming, of course, that we’re not splitting it with them—which, let’s face it, is highly likely. We live in a city in which even pasta and cocktails are designed to be shared.