et vous?

This past week, the Economist ran a series of articles, basically a five-day miniblog, by their Paris correspondent. They're well worth reading except the Friday entry, which effuses American one-sidedness that made my eyes hurt. The Economist is a British publication. Why does it dress up as an American in the worst possible way sometimes? Do yourself a favor and scroll down.

I suggest scrolling all the way to Tuesday to learn about vous and tu, the two ways of addressing your counterpart in a conversation. Basically, tu is for friends and vous is for strangers. To me, it seems very similar to the German system, but what do I really know. I haven't lived in Germany in more than eight years, and I'm increasingly uncomfortable addressing someone in a language other than English.

English is easy. It's always you, and if you're doing science in the Western half of the United States, it's always first name as well. It was always a great honor and equal pleasure to address mighty professors face to face (Hey Dennis, how ya doing?). Hierarchies were flat, and doors were always open. Like I said, it was easy.

Here in France, language and culture add a whole zoo of difficulties. The lab is no different from the US, everyone is first name, and everyone is tu, though I sometimes forget, especially with members of the administrative staff. With everyone else, it's confusing as hell.

Take the Alliance Française for example, a rather informal gathering where the organizers don't tire of reminding us that "on se tutoie ici". We say tu. This is not only difficult for the linguistically Americanized or for recently arrived foreigners with fresh memories of what their teachers told them but also for distinguished retired ladies who grew up in a different world altogether—in a world where tu was reserved for scolding little kids—who now volunteer with much heart at the Alliance. So most of the time, it's vous after all.

Then there is Bernard. He's a teacher in the Monday's conversation circle, and he seems more like a buddy than anybody else standing. (The students sit, of course.) I've been calling him tu from the beginning, head down and through the wall with no regrets. Now I'm reconsidering. Maybe it's really a basic question of respect, as the Economist guy suggests? And if Jacques and Bernardette, the elected king and queen of France, vouvoient each other, should I say vous to Bernard, the avowed royalist? Maybe I'll print the article and ask him.