Mar 20

Mar 20 Honestly Dishonest

There are thousands of little frustrations in learning a language, but by far the most common I’ve seen in my years of English training concerns the most mundane of questions: ‘How are you?’. Who would have thought that such an everyday question would cause such opprobrium, but it seems that this simple query deeply irritates some German speakers of English. A frequent and surprising question I’m asked is ‘Do they really mean it?’. The key to answering this question is finding out who exactly “they” are. English is a global language after all, so pinpointing exactly who’s asking is crucial. Rarely does the intent of a Chinese or Indian counterpart come under scrutiny, instead German participants desperately want to know if an American or British person means it when they ask ‘How are you?’. In these moments, it’s worth stopping a training session and adopting the calming tone of a friendly family doctor in order to find out exactly what is causing so much pain.

Communication context is key; was it before or after the meeting? Was the asker passing you quickly in the hallway or were they sitting opposite you over lunch? Do you know the person asking or have you just met? When I ask these questions of Germans, they seem baffled at the level of detail. For so many of them, the context is irrelevant; why ask the question at all if a person doesn’t want an honest answer? I’ve always found this search for honesty in communication a charming aspect of living in Germany, some innate desire to be earnest, one that has very little currency in the communication environment I grew up with in the UK. At face value, German communication is transactional, whereas in the UK and certain parts of the US, communication is an elaborate dance, verbal Kabuki, that involves so much more than just the words coming out a person’s mouth. There are subtexts within subtexts, hidden meanings only noticeable to those looking for them. The words, more often than not, mean less than the tone. ‘How are you?’ Is a genuine question, but it’s also a conversation starter, a time filler, an acknowledgement and a polite start point for topics entirely unrelated to the current condition of the person being asked.

Photo by Des Récits on Unsplash — Photo by Des Récits on Unsplash

Germans tend not to like this reply. They want a straight answer, which is hard to give unless I follow my learners around for the entire day acting as some contextual communication translator for every English speaking interaction they have. The response I tend to get is that the British and Americans are ‘Oberflächlich’ (superficial), they don’t really care how the Germans are and by asking without really wanting to know the answer, they’re exhibiting a gross level of dishonesty. For years I’ve operated under the impression that honesty is the cornerstone of not only German communication but German society at large. How else would I explain the constant annoyance over those three simple words?

It would also seem to explain so many interactions I’ve had in Germany, the blunt assessment of situations, the pointed feedback that brings tears to the eyes, the unvarnished truth that feels less conversational and rather a cruel form of psychological warfare. Germans aren’t direct, I’ve argued, they just prize honesty above all things. Studies certainly point in this direction, but then studies also suggest that honesty is not always totally comprehensive. Yet more studies even suggest that lying is a daily occurrence, either to protect a friend or loved one or for the Machiavellian desire to get ahead at work.

Out in the wild, honesty seems to flow with regularity. Germans have no qualms about confronting those who break from behavioural norms for example. Direct and unsolicited advice is also a daily possibility in Germany, much to the displeasure of those who’ve grown up in more reserved and indirect communication cultures. Personal communication aside, directness and honesty is expected in lots of other areas of life that other cultures have come to only expect dishonesty.

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

Politicians are held to a base level of honesty in a way I don’t see in the UK or the US anymore. The various plagiarism scandals that have seen German politicians rapidly fall from grace suggests this. Dishonesty, even historic dishonesty, is still seen as breaking the unwritten rules of German life. Reading about the recent scandals engulfing the CDU and its sister party, the CSU has been interesting as reports reveal how certain politicians allegedly took advantage of their position for personal profit during the pandemic. The outcry over this dishonesty has been fierce, and could have deep repercussions in an election year. For myself, I’ve not only been impressed by the anger towards the accused, but also the level of surprise that has accompanied discussions on the topic.

It would be too harsh to suggest that Germans are naive about the honesty of their politicians, but coming from a country where political lies are simply the norm, it seems quaint that Germans don’t automatically accept that their political class are always on the take. Political apathy is possibly not as deep rooted here as in the UK. Yet political scandals are not unheard of, many German politicians have been caught up in them, some have even managed to forge successful careers despite awareness of their dishonesty. It’s here that I come to a strange juxtaposition: Germans value honesty in communication and in their personal relationships (with some limits) but they appear happy to be dishonest with themselves about the reality of the world we live in.

Perhaps this is the truth of German life, external honesty, internal dishonesty. Does that explain the fixation over protecting the environment, but a willingness to vote for parties that have a terrible record on doing so? Does it explain the regular handwringing over the growing wealth gap and the simultaneous characterisation of people on benefits as lazy drug addicts? I do feel it explains the pride that many expound on the openness of German society, while at the same time ignoring the structural failures that ensure marginalised groups remain on the fringes. Personally, I like to remain optimistic about the future, which some might call my own self-delusion. Maybe I’m becoming more German with every passing year. Things can change, of that I’m sure, but only if we’re as honest about the failings of society, and our own culpability, as we are about the failings of others.