William Hanson: Why etiquette must evolve to suit modern life

Etiquette is a shapeshifter. Although it will always be a set of rules that we use to help us navigate different social and professional situations, the parameters evolve to reflect the world around us: the rules we grew up with may not be relevant or useful today.

Detractors of etiquette often dismiss it as something from a bygone age. However, they’re missing the point: etiquette tells us how to behave now. The core principles of good manners — treat others with respect and compassion — will always remain the same, but the playbook gets revised.

Pick up any book of etiquette from the past 200 years and it will almost invariably open with advice on greeting our fellow humans. To my mind, one of the most significant changes in how we interact with each other has been the near extinction of ‘How do you do?’. In traditional circles, you might have previously heard it tagged onto an introduction: it was an old way of asking ‘how are you?’, only really spoken by the upper and upper-middle classes.

It used to be social game over if you greeted someone with ‘pleased to meet you’: although no one would have flinched or said anything out loud, your card would have been marked. Kate Fox, author of Watching the English, strongly advocates for the return of a more universal ‘How do you do?’, arguing that it would make life a lot easier for everyone. I applaud her sentiment, but it simply isn’t going to re-enter the mainstream anytime soon — not least because, as with other English phrases that actually mean something subtly different to the sum of their component parts, it can cause confusion.

The second most significant change in etiquette philosophy in the past 20 years has been the (sensible) acceptance of left-handed people. Lefties from previous generations were not allowed to use their left hand to write, hold the table knife or similar. Everything had to follow a right-hand bias — as the right hand was the sword-carrying hand — and all sorts of aspersions were cast about those who openly used their left hand.

When I teach my etiquette classes, rather than my colleagues and I saying, ‘the knife is held in the right hand and the fork in the left’, where possible, we try to say ‘the knife is held in your dominant hand and the fork in the non-dominant one, but only swap when in action’. It’s a tiny tweak to previously accepted norms that excluded people for silly reasons. As long as you still hold the cutlery correctly (fingers down over the knife and fork, handles firmly in the palms of your hands), no one in their right mind cares if you switch because you find it easier to eat like that.

It’s not only how we eat, but what we eat that has caused etiquette to shift. When many of the rules we may have grown up being taught were codified, the British palate was a lot less sophisticated than it is today — food was more bland and less international. Good luck to anyone who suggests eating Japanese ramen with a ramrod straight back, making no noise whatsoever as you bring the noodles and soft-boiled egg to your mouth. It’s simply not going to work.

The old class system, too, is probably to blame (or thank, depending on your view) for how we eat. The aristocracy traditionally did not work as we do today and thus had capacious windows of time to fill. The best way to demonstrate this — and the social change in Britain since the heyday of the upper classes — is to look at how we eat toast.

The idle aristocracy of yesteryear would have broken a little chunk of toast off their square slice, added butter and then marmalade, eaten, and then repeated the sequence. (This was a rule I learned the hard way when eyes bored into me one morning when I was staying at a house in Cheshire.) Previously, breakfast was never rushed, as there wasn’t much to do after it. Today, in our time-poor nation, with parents trying to get children ready for school and checking for any commuting drama, the whole slice of toast is now layered in one go, probably eaten standing up, when rushing around the kitchen or with one arm in the coat and one locking the door, toast clenched between teeth. I am not actually advocating eating toast or anything standing up, I hasten to add — even today, anything more than a canapé really ought to be consumed at a proper dining table.

Previously, men would wait for all the women to be seated before taking their own seats. If a woman left the table during the meal (which wasn’t actually correct, but did happen occasionally), the men would have risen, with one assisting the leaving lady with her chair. These rules can still be observed in more formal social situations, if you are sure the woman will not mind — although, in my experience, most now have come to loathe this bobbing up and down. Today, if someone leaves or returns to the table, anyone can stand up or give a half-rise, regardless of gender. In fact, there is something refreshingly pleasant about seeing a woman rise for a man or a man rise to acknowledge another man.

Who codifies and sets the rules has changed, too. In Louis XIV’s court, the French King decided what was what; etiquette was exclusive in order to keep the Sun King on his precarious pedestal. Louis had strict decrees on how tall your wig could be, how many ruffles your cuffs and collar could have and you could prepare for deportation should you have dared open your napkin before Le Roi Soleil. Today, our etiquette rules are created organically by the trial and error of society as a whole. It’s all quite democratic now, if you think about it.

‘Just Good Manners’ by William Hanson is out now

This feature originally appeared in the August 27, 2025, issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe