How to be a Brit

This system
has its own impenetrable logic. With tailors, dressmakers and hairdressers you
may be as unreasonable as you choose. But to give back a singularly thick piece
of meat to a butcher when you have asked for a singularly thin one is fussing.
To insist on records of Aïda, failing to be content with Tristan and
Isolde or The Mikado instead (when the dealer has made it clear that
he would rather get rid of these two) is extremely un-English. Milder and truer
types of Britons are known to have bought typewriters — instead of tape-recorders,
bubble-cars instead of bedroom suites and grand pianos instead of going to the
Costa Brava for their holidays.
    2. Always be polite to shop
assistants. Never talk back to them; never argue; never speak to them unless
spoken to. If they are curt, sarcastic or rude to you, remember that they might
be in a bad mood.
    3. If there happens to be
no queue in a shop when you arrive, never be impatient if no one takes the
slightest notice of you. Do not disturb the assistants in their tête-à-tête; never disturb the one who stands in the corner gazing at you with bemused
curiosity. There is nothing personal in the fact that they ignore you: they are
simply Miltonists. All English shop assistants are Miltonists. A Miltonist
firmly believes that ‘they also serve who only stand and wait.’
     
     

HOW TO SAVE THE WORLD
     
    Only one shortage
in England survived the Seven (or was it Fourteen?) Lean Years: the shortage of
Good Causes. When I first came to this country, there were plenty of serious
problems to get excited about: Nazi-ism, Fascism, Appeasement, the Spanish
Civil War, etc. What is left of all these? Nothing — absolutely nothing.
    Anti-Communism has been
played out. Even the ex-Communists have nothing left to say. Besides, Mr
Krushchev passes nowadays as the favourite clown of the free world — such a
witty, jovial old boy. Because he has a sense of humour, the English
(those incomparable champions of the non sequitur ) are convinced that he
is a dear old-fashioned liberal. If only he had not fired that poor little dog
Laika into space, he might have successfully claimed to be elected Chancellor
of Oxford University.
    It is true that we have
some minor issues left on our hands, such as nuclear disarmament, South African
apartheid, Notting Hill, Little Rock, swastika daubings and such like, but
apart from a few dotty intellectuals no one gets really worked up about these.
All this is a great pity, because ways and means of fighting for good causes
(or for bad ones) have improved beyond recognition.

    Take for example nuclear
disarmament. Are you for or against blowing up our planet with hydrogen bombs?
According to the Public Opinion Polls. 2.2% are for it, 1.7% are against it and
the rest (96.1%) don’t know. Suppose you yourself are against it and you are convinced
that the best way to secure our safety is to destroy our own bombs, persuade
the Americans to do the same and put our loyal trust in Mr Nikita Krushchev,
that dear old liberal (but for that dog, Laika). You may write a very excellent
and persuasive book on the subject: it will be reviewed at length in the
quality newspapers and political weeklies — in other words, it will remain
unnoticed; you may lecture about your ideas to this or that learned society;
you may form a club or a party to propagate your thesis; you may hold mass
meetings in Caxton Hall — no one will blink an eyelid. But should you, along
with a few of your followers, lie down in front of the main gateway at Harwell
so that the police have to remove you, you will then be front page news all
over the world. Should your disciples do their act in top-hats, pictorial
coverage will be quite superb — indeed, you will practically monopolize
television news bulletins and other news features for three days.
    Here I give you some
elementary advice on how to propagate good or bad causes:
    1. If you have discovered a
wonderful new dietary system which might benefit humanity to no small degree,
do not bother about the Lancet or the British Medical Journal; forget about scientific institutions. All you have to do is walk from John
o’Groats to Land’s End. Thousands will come out to cheer you, traffic will stop
when you pass through a town and you will become a national figure whether you
like it or not, however shy you may be, and however honest and noble your
original intentions may have been. Your advice and views will henceforth be
sought