Transatlantic Table Talk

Writing in the Weekend FT (subscription required), columnist Gillian Tett highlights the cultural differences between dinner party “table talk” on either side of the Atlantic.

She observes that “Amer­ican pro­fes­sion­als tend to take it for gran­ted that when they meet over din­ner they will stage a com­munal debate.”

…the idea is basic­ally the 21st-cen­tury ver­sion of an 18th-cen­tury Parisian salon: the guests expect to enjoy an intel­lec­tual exchange along with the food, a con­ver­sa­tion that might be based around a guest’s book, film, start-up or polit­ical cam­paign (or, fail­ing all that, more dis­cus­sion of the ulti­mate con­ver­sa­tion starter, Trump).

Whereas “Brit­ish rituals are dif­fer­ent.”

Brits tend to eat later than Amer­ic­ans, drink far more alco­hol and hate it when guests ask each other, “What do you do?” (Let alone google each oth­ers’ achieve­ments at the table, which is com­mon in the US.) But what gen­er­ally goes unmen­tioned is a more import­ant dis­tinc­tion: single-table con­ver­sa­tions rarely hap­pen in Bri­tain.

In addition to her work writing for the FT, Tett is an anthropologist and recently appointed Provost of King’s College, Cambridge where — she notes — attempts to impose a single topic for discussion by academics dining at the high table are met with a brusque ““This is just not done here.”

She identifies the source of the difference in the way the two cultures treat intel­lec­tual cap­ital:

In Amer­ica, the cre­ation of ideas is treated as a vital sphere of eco­nomic activ­ity, one that phil­an­throp­ists think needs to be backed, on an indus­trial scale, in many for­ums. Just as the Medi­cis once sponsored cathed­rals or artists, today’s 21st-cen­tury luminar­ies use their cash to spon­sor debate, turn­ing eco­nomic cap­ital into the cul­tural and intel­lec­tual vari­ant. And since Amer­ica is also a place that admires ambi­tion and hustle, this fosters a cul­ture of per­form­at­ive intel­lec­tual dis­play, be that in a TV stu­dio or at a din­ner party.

In Bri­tain, however, hustle is not so read­ily admired and ambi­tion is some­times derided as being pushy or show­ing off. Thus if you are bril­liantly clever, you are admired for con­ceal­ing the fact or crack­ing jokes about it at your own expense. Few Brits stand up in pub­lic and shout that they want to be pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als; or not without a self-deprec­at­ing laugh.

For us plebs who don’t receive invitations to society dinner parties in either country, it’s worth bearing in mind that “per­form­at­ive intel­lec­tual dis­play” is still very much a fact of life in many aspects of American life. Indeed, in my five decades in the States I have grown used to listening to monologues from American’s of all backgrounds: from the boating enthusiast telling you the correct way to trim a sail to the home cook describing their recipe for the perfect lasagna.

The fact I am teetotal somewhat limits my potential to enjoy the drunken revelry of British dinners, amusing as they might be.

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Thanks for the valuable insight!



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