The Society of Auto-Correction
By far the most dominant influence on my German language development has been Schwabisch, thanks to my Swabian wife. After living with her for so long, I’ve picked up more than a few colloquialisms, and with the mix of her language influence and my northern English accent, I must sound like a lunatic to the unprepared. It’s a daily challenge, one that I didn’t expect when I first moved here. Living in a different country presents these unexpected hurdles. Everyday activities that were once simple back in the UK become complicated because of language, but also due to a myriad of unknown cultural norms that are so mundane to everyone else, no one bothers to mention them. The only way a person discovers these invisible cultural rules is by breaking them, which is rarely an enjoyable experience. Thankfully Germany has a way of keeping people like myself on the straight and narrow path, a way of ensuring all people, at all times, know the correct way to do things. I call it the German Society of Auto-Correction.
One of the lesser known facts about Germany is that it comes with such an autocorrect function. If someone sees another person doing something incorrectly, even if they are complete strangers, there is a high likelihood that they will interject, point out the mistake and then offer an alternative solution. This may sound helpful; however, the correction is rarely delivered in a friendly manner. At first, I thought it was my poor German skills that meant I was misunderstanding the tone of these corrections, but as my language improved, I found that the German Society of Auto-Correction is like vigilante justice: brutal and unthinking.
For example, a few months back I was standing at a supermarket checkout, preparing myself for the shop assistant to speed scan my groceries. I readied my bags and began limbering up for the low flying tins of peas that would soon be coming my way. As I waited, an older gentleman caught my attention. He pointed to my un-scanned shopping and declared “This is poorly organised”. He was right, of course, I hadn’t taken any particular care to sort all my potential purchases, nor had I remembered to bring my spirit level to aid in this endeavour. “Look, this one is about to fall off” he warned, pointing at a yoghurt pot that was about to, and then abruptly did, fall off the conveyor belt. “I’ll get it” he declared, in the tone of someone saying, “I told you so”. I took a deep breath, thanked him and began rapidly packing my shopping as it started to hurtle towards me. “You have too much shopping” he advised sagely, “You should buy less”. I ignored him. I asked to pay on card and heard him inhale quickly, as if ready to dispense another pearl of wisdom. I already knew what he was going to say, something along the lines of “why are you paying by card? You should use cash” but I avoided his advice by staring straight ahead and ignoring him. I took my card, thanked the cashier, and quickly left.
I was embarrassed by the interaction, but even more so, I was angry. The short conversation, the directness of speech, the confidence with which the admonishment was delivered, all had caught me off-guard. Moreover, public reprimands are still unexpected, mainly because they happened so rarely in the UK. I have experienced the “busybody” attitude in Britain, but it was infrequent and often couched in layers of indirectness, understatement, and additional language that reduces the severity of the message. The British have also evolved a tremendous sense of social anxiety when it comes to creating conflict, making these occasional moments of public opprobrium painful for all involved and therefore when they do happen, they’re mercifully short.
The same can be said in Germany, but the big difference here is being publicly upbraided seems to happen with alarming regularity. Unsolicited feedback is almost inevitable, and at the very least, it’s a somewhat expected part of German life. Most Germans, from my experience, tend to ignore unprompted advice or at least don’t noticeably react to the free counsel offered by strangers. In the UK, as I’ve mentioned, unsolicited advice is a rarity and may well be met with a similar level of disinterest as in Germany. However, there’s also a good chance that the random opinions of strangers will be met with the furious response of “Mind your own business!” followed by a series of graphic expletives. Social awkwardness/embarrassment, a deep sense of privacy, and a more socially aggressive culture can combine to make publically admonishing someone in the UK a terrible idea.
After asking German colleagues about receiving unsolicited advice from strangers, it became clear that many of my co-workers believed people genuinely just wanted to help each other. Although this seems naïve, honesty is important in Germany and a direct assessment of failures can have a positive impact. When I asked Germans if unsolicited advice was useful, they stated it generally had benefits, the reason given for this positive spin was that it was good for problem solving. People develop their own way of doing things, but it was still helpful to have an alternative suggestion on how to solve certain problems. That being said, I was told to be wary of the phrase “We have always done it this way”, which seemed to signify an inability to adapt to change.
It should be noted that the Society of Auto-Correction doesn’t reveal itself to everyone equally, more often than not it seems to focus heavily on correcting the behaviour of women. This is something I’ve noticed more and more since the arrival of our first child. My wife and many other women seem to attract regular auto-correctors who are happy to comment on a wide range of topics, from parenting styles, feeding, to clothing or any number of other things that don’t meet the standards of some random nobody. When I walk around with my daughter, very few people mention the fact she’s removed her socks or happens to be making some annoying noise at the top of her tiny lungs, and unlike my wife, I’ve never been accosted by someone who crossed the street to inform me that I’m performing an activity or process incorrectly. Perhaps it’s my angry resting face, or more possibly it’s because women are seen as fair game for correction.
Where does this leave me with my German shopping corrector? Well, a little further forward. I may have had my encounters with the German Society of Auto-Correction, but it is important to note that they are not always wrong and they don’t always mean to be rude. Sometimes, and only sometimes, the unprompted advice is helpful. When it isn’t I can always fall back on my British training: smile, say “Danke” and then try to destroy them with a vicious, telepathic death stare.
Proofreader: @ScandiTina
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