When you are invited to someone’s birthday celebration, is it polite to ask the celebrated person what present they would like to receive from you? Do good manners require compiling a gift registry for your wedding and strictly buying from such a registry when attending the wedding of others? It may be thought that this depends on the particular gifting practice in a group, and so on what is considered normal by the relevant people. We may assume that the well-mannered person acts in line with what is ‘the done thing’ around here. This means requesting specific presents when that is expected and buying from a gift registry when one is provided.
Yet, etiquette columnist Judith Martin – better known as Miss Manners – takes a clear stance against this: even in contexts where wish lists are normal, you should think of a present yourself. She implies that it is the established practice that is wrong, not the lone etiquette expert acting in violation of it. Why is it impolite to make and ask for gift requests? Miss Manner would presumably answer ‘Because Miss Manners says so’. And there might be something to this: the rules for socially appropriate behaviour can certainly be influenced by clear advice from a recognised authority on etiquette. However, there is more to say in favour of her interpretation of politeness here: she is against requesting practices for a good reason.
In Miss Manner’s eyes, what is wrong with registries and demands for specific gifts is that they do not fit with the point of gifting practices. Giving presents is supposed to come with a certain meaning. Bringing someone objects we have selected for them allows us to “show symbolically an appreciation of the other person’s wants and tastes”. This thoughtfulness is “the entire reason for the custom” (Judith Martin, Minding Miss Manners: In an Era of Fake Etiquette (Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2022), p. 49). If you are merely fulfilling someone’s shopping list or – even worse – giving them money to let them make their own purchases, the symbolic meaning is lost. The purpose of buying a gift for a wedding is not to help finance it or compensate for the costs made on your behalf, but to celebrate the couple by expressing warm consideration. According to Miss Manners, if we replace the exchange of presents with “the duty to pay others to get through the milestones of life, there doesn’t seem to be any point” (p. 50).
The case of presents reveals a more general idea about good manners: the correct action is one that successfully expresses the appropriate meaning, even if we are now used to behaviour that misses the point. This raises a question about which social norms are actually in force for us. Consider a society in which it is standard and expected to provide wish lists for birthdays and other special occasions. Does this society nonetheless have a social norm of giving a thoughtful gift, since that is what satisfies the purpose underlying gift giving? If so, the norms of a group come apart from its practices and what its members consider appropriate, which goes against most accounts of social norms. The alternative option is that a norm to buy from a registry is in place, even though it would be better to have a norm that ties gifts to thoughtfulness. The content of a social norm or convention is not determined by what would make the most sense for it to be. Take inconsistencies in language: it seems mistaken to me that the German word ‘lebendig’ has its emphasis on the second syllable, when ‘leben’ has its emphasis on the first. Nonetheless, this is the correct pronunciation, fixed by the actual practice of German speakers. Our social norms are dependent on actions and attitudes, not on the best fit with a rationale.
Does this mean that Miss Manners is mistaken about the right way to deal with presents? Not necessarily: we could see judgements about good manners as coming apart from what the local norms are. This option seems plausible when we consider what an especially well-mannered person is like. An exemplar of good manners is arguably not someone who perfectly fulfils all and only the commonly recognised norms; instead, it is a person who has a deeper understanding of the important values behind polite behaviour and who does a better job at embodying these than someone who simply does what is normal. This gives space for the well-mannered person to go against expectations and select their own gift, thereby successfully expressing thoughtfulness to the receiver.
Yet, who decides that this is indeed the point of buying gifts? The answer ‘Miss Manners’ is less suitable here. Nor is the underlying value up to each individual: I personally prefer to receive presents that show the giver has put some thought into it, but this does not make it the case that expressing thoughtfulness is what our gift-giving practices are for. There has to be a strong collective component, as actions can only express something if this meaning is commonly recognised. This understanding need not be universal; a practice can plausibly maintain a particular point if many people are unaware of it without further reflection, or even if norms temporarily fall out of line with the ultimate rationale of this behaviour. However, one etiquette writer could not decide on her own, untethered from the symbolic meanings accepted in her society, what the point of presents is or should be.
It may be thought that the function of gift giving, and that of other customs, is a moral matter. Generosity, kindness, and thoughtfulness can be understood as universal moral values. If these form the normative foundation of gifting practices, we have an explanation for why it is right to put effort into our gifts even if the norm now is to pick something from a list. The social norms in place can go astray relative to the moral aims of our social structures.
However, it is far from clear that the values behind gift-giving practices are universal – and hence it is unclear that they are moral, at least on a universalist conception of morality. This is because the motivations and expectations behind gifts tend to vary by culture. Miss Manners suggests that the exchange of presents has had a purpose of showing good will for millennia (p. 49). This may be general enough to be accurate. When we look in more detail, differences between societies, subgroups, and contexts come into view. Miss Manners’ idea that gifts are for indicating that you know a person well and think of them may be true for her own context of North-America or, more narrowly, for a particular subcategory of inhabitants of Washington D.C. Elsewhere, the point of gifts may be to indicate one’s status, share with the less fortunate, or give back to one’s elders. In these cases, a gift in the form of cash could be perfectly suited to the underlying aim. And it would be odd to say that these alternative aims are somehow mistaken; it seems legitimate for different cultures to express different values with their gift giving. This shows how the deeper rationale that gives weight to a local practice can be distinctly social or cultural rather than moral.
If there is no universal rationale behind gift exchanges, then there is no universal right way of doing presents. This does not mean that one should simply go along with the standard practice in the relevant social context. I have suggested that the requirements of good manners can be distinct from what the local norms demand. The well-mannered person will reflect on the deeper point of social practices and act on this. If it is not universal moral values we are dealing with here, then grasping the underlying rationale requires a balance between going beyond the surface of norms and staying connected to the local context. One must search for the deeper meaning while keeping the focus on the meaning here. This is where etiquette calls for practical wisdom, even – or especially – when established practices and clear expectations are in place.
Eline Gerritsen 
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