Chacos: The devil is in the details

My son likes to quote, “Manners maketh man” whenever he sees humankind acting in ways that disrupt his sense of order. I get excited when he speaks like this— not because I raised a son whose command of etiquette would make Emily Post proud, but because I perversely enjoy seeing people behaving recklessly in the wild. It’s like going to the zoo to gawk at orangutans, except human beings are more fun because we were taught to pick our noses and fornicate in private.

For this reason, I was excited to stop whatever I was doing last week to watch the presidential debate, even though it could be too grim for a weekday night. To be clear: I wasn’t tuning in to learn about immigration, abortion rights, or even economic policies. Although these are important issues I care about deeply, that stuff is well-documented and makes for just another humdrum day in politics. What I really wanted to see were the manners and etiquette the two candidates would put on display for millions of Americans. I was ready with a bowl of ice cream and settled in for a night of the macabre.

The debate didn’t disappoint. By definition, manners are how we show respect for others by putting people at ease and being selfless. It’s dressing appropriately for a funeral and not making fun of people at the big box store. Etiquette is the code of conduct expected at a formal dinner party or for the raunchiness normally observed in a medieval hall. Both require you to read the room. For the first 30 seconds of the debate when both candidates approached one another and shook hands, I thought the evening would be a big letdown. I’d say they were both winning the war on decorum. Lucky for me, manners and etiquette deteriorated faster than my middle-aged knees.

I focused on the handshake first because Stephen King once said, “The truth is in the details,” and something about the devil being in there, too. I started paying attention to details when my children became mischievous housemates. Every few days, I needed to uncover who put a hole in the wall, flooded the bathroom, or watered the inside of my car. I’d know who was guilty in minutes by watching abnormalities in their behavior. For the debate, someone needed to set the tone with a handshake because our society recognizes that as a sign of having manners. I noticed one individual walk across the stage and offer an assertive, confident handshake. This signified an awareness that the debate process was held with dignity. I felt respect was given to the people watching at home. The response from behind the podium was as limp as a boned fish. I sat upright yearning for more.

Then I heard the use of the third person, a catchy, coy way to sound deferential. Referring to someone in the third person when they are standing right next to you is a debate tactic and style preference used to talk broadly to the audience in generalized terms. It’s a way to keep from having a direct exchange and a way to keep someone unacknowledged and anonymous. I tried talking about myself in the third person once and was told to stop acting like an egomaniac. Throughout the debate, I heard third-person language, like “she” or “her” being used often. I found it misogynistic and disrespectful for someone to behave like that when the other candidate was using a direct, first-person exchange. When I heard, “this one,” while referencing the candidate that was only a few feet away, I couldn’t believe the bad behavior on display.

Before long, I was thinking about my dog and how she avoids looking at me when she is caught lounging on the couch instead of snoozing in her bed. This is because her bed is on the floor and not on the furniture. My dog’s lack of eye contact speaks volumes because she usually stares at me lovingly. For two individuals without a diagnosed condition and who seek to lead our country through international diplomacy, I needed to see a willingness for the candidates to make eye contact. It’s our society’s way to show connection, confidence, and a willingness to talk directly with the other person. Lack of eye contact and staring straight ahead convey indifference, disdain, and is the hallmark of disrespect. I felt like I was watching a toddler avoiding eye contact with a scolding parent instead of a septuagenarian who should have the discipline and professionalism for the job at stake.

By the time I turned off the television, I decided that if I really wanted to see more bad manners up close, I’d take a long plane ride and choose a discounted seat in coach. What I’m looking for in a president is someone who possesses the skill to stand for 90 minutes of dismissive behavior, aggressive masculinity, misinformation, and racist stereotyping without flinching. I perversely enjoyed the debate last week — not because I watched an orangutan behaving recklessly in a zoo, but because I learned how manners can indeed maketh woman.

Andrea Chacos lives in Carbondale, balancing work and happily raising three children with her husband. She strives to dodge curveballs life likes to throw with a bit of passion, humor and some flair.