Nasty ex machina: the cultural, political and religious roots of bad service

Jennifer, Mmmh my childhood embedded standard was like yours and Catherine, but I was raised by the daughter of a French governess I tell myself. To be honest I felt my mother’s standards were met better in the U.S. (first arrival 1974) than in the Netherlands. When I returned to my homeland in 1976 I was appalled by the lack of friendliness in stores and restaurants. The American politeness, mentioned by Anastasia was (and in great part still is) seen as fake by the Dutch. That a cashier who says “How are you?” Doesn’t really want to hear what’s going on in your life or that “Have a nice day” is a standard goodbye strikes them as insincere, even though we’ve been taught in school that all that you’re expected to say is: Fine, or Very well, thank you. Meanwhile I’ve also learned that becoming a familiar face, a recurring customer grants me to tell my fave co-op cashier what the day really had in store.

I wonder whether attitude and treatment don’t change over time? Does familiarity breed familiarity?

Thanks for this post Jennifer. Manners – curious. I remember moving out of New York, first to DC and then Bosnia, where I had to learn how to slow down. Ask people how they were. Not rush. On a visit home one Christmas I hopped into a cab on the West Side. As we’re driving through the park the cabbie asks, “Where in the mid-west are you from?” “The mid-west?” I reply, “I’m not from the mid-west. I’m from Brooklyn.” He says, “You’re from Brooklyn? – what’s with the ‘Hi, how are you?’”
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Friends! So many interesting comments and stories, anecdotes and questions! I loved the idea of the man fishing his ice out of the raki glass with his bare hands to avoid germs! I suppose we bring our own panic triggers with us where ever we go. Back in America, I do agree that the service is getting over the top — I’m not sure people need to know about our food allergies as I got asked the other day.

I’m always baffled by the origins of hospitality in different parts of the world. In Russia, for example, no one ever seems to feel they need to say thank you after you’ve done them a kindness…it seems sort of expected and assumed. Whereas, in the West we fall over ourselves to make the call or write the note.
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Too true, too true! They also ask me back home if I want the juice warm for my child. Imagine their faces when she wants ice added in her drink!

You forgot to mention the whole ice thing. Russians think that ice will cause one’s throat to insta-freeze, causing a medical condition that needs immediate hospitalization. Even when it’s boiling hot (and yes, kids, it does get hot in russia in the summers), most Russians think that one should drink something hot to cool down, like hot tea. which is about the last thing that a westerner would want.

the trend may be changing…there are now coolers outside many street kiosks where one can get a chilled drink during the summer. the drinks may not be icy cold, but at least they’re not warm.

but when you buy one, you can be sure that the sales person will throw your change down into a little plastic tray instead of handing it to you. unless you go through a drive through window. then, they HAVE to hand you back your change. chalk up another one for mc d’s!

Yes, there still is a big problem here. My worst experience was pushing my shopping cart in Metro, when out of nowhere a forklift plowed straight into me. That cart hit me so hard in the stomach that I swore if I was pregnant I would have lost the baby that instant. The guy driving it said nothing, no apology or concern for my pain. That was the first time I swore about Russia. But in the end of the day, that is a Western Company with Western Management here, and therefore they are the ones to blame for their apparent lack of training and poor management of people. It is the same with McDonalds…its the Expats fault.

Ohhh, I confess I laughed and sighed reading your post. I only lived in Russia for three months, but wow, I experienced so much of what you described. I come from Canada, quite possibly the most polite nation on earth. I’ve had to learn to get feisty.
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Being in Russia right now, I totally get what you’re talking about (and having originated in the UK, my benchmark was pretty low to begin with). I do wonder though if Nasty wasn’t also protesting at our crazy Western habit of drinking ice-cold beverages; according to various Russians I’ve met they can’t understand why we would do such a ridiculous thing, and in fact, it hurts their throats to do so. Which is why, when I consider the warm beer my husband is frequently served and tepid white wine in my glass I wonder if in fact they think they are doing us a favour. (Not for long, though, obviously. That thought is usually quickly supplanted by my asking my husband what the Russian for ‘chilled’ is…)

This is awesome, Jennifer! I sooooooo feel your pain. It’s exactly the same here in Czech Republic, though without the poetic afterlife motivation (it’s been decades since the Czechs have called themselves anything but Athiests). I’ve heard the reason customer service is so bad in Prague relates back to Communism, where you got paid for your work regardless of how well you performed the services.

These days, with younger people, I do see the customer service dynamic changing and they actually might smile at you, say, in a restaurant or H&M. But in the grocery stores, forget about it. Rudeness embodied in a smileless creature.

I love the photo of Nastia. I meet her here all the time, though a bit slimmer, taller and blonder. Same expression though.

A funny and depressing post, Jennifer! I commend you for surviving 17 years of such abuse. I’ve lived in places with questionable treatment of customers, NYC being the worst. My Californian upbringing sounds a little more casual than yours, though my parents did expect hand-written thank you notes, formally entertained and taught me how to set the sterling silver before I went to Kindergarten. Rude was not done, voices were never raised, and we certainly would have been banished to our rooms for shoving!

Fortunately, my adopted country of Turkey is well known for its hospitality. Based on a saying that “a guest is a gift from God”, to be rude and unwelcoming to total strangers would be a slap in the face of the Almighty. This can make service unbearably attentive, even more so in places where a potential tip is involved. Shopping takes longer since it’s likely that I’ll get involved in conversations and tea-drinking, especially since I’m an obvious foreigner speaking reasonable Turkish. The only places I’ve found to be real bastions of bad service are post offices and banks, where I’ve also experienced the contempt you’ve described.

That said, people here may not always be competent at their jobs, have a tendency to tell you what you want to hear and might string you along without getting anything done, but at least they are polite about it! However, if faced with a crowded tram car, no one lines up and will cram themselves in as if they take up no space at all. Politeness does fade with anonymity, even in hyper-hospitable Turkey.