unsolicited advice

“Who are you?!“

Many Americans are the descendants of people who left their homes to escape what they considered to be imposing or coercive laws in their native countries. As such, they’ve been raised to consider any interference (even unsolicited, but well-meaning, advice) as an attack on their freedom as Americans.

This in the sense of: ;„Who are you to tell me how to live? This is America. A free country. I can live the way I want! Americans are very fearful of one group in the U.S. dictating to another how they should live.

coerce: to restrain or dominate by force; to compel to an act or choice; to achieve by force or threat. Middle English cohercen. Anglo-French cohercer. Latin coercēre, to shut up, enclose. Synonyms: force, compel, constrain, dragoon, drive, impel, impress, make, muscle, obligate, oblige, pressure.

Not German Know-it-alls

Germans believe in norms. Conformity, uniformity. Rectitude, righteousness. Accommodation, assimilation. Subordination, subsidiarity. If the law states that adults may not ride their bicycles on the sidewalk, then German adults do not ride their bicycles on the sidewalk. Doing otherwise breaches, transgresses, goes against the law, order, against agreements made which are then communicated in the form of a law. The breach demonstrates a lack of respect, of making oneself more important than the others.

In public spaces – such as automobile, bicycle, pedestrian traffic – Germans feel responsible for each other, allowing them, expecting of them, to point out to others what they are doing wrong, which could injure them or others. Just as one would help an older person carry their packages across a busy street, so to one would point out to a parent who forgot to put a bicycle helmet on their child’s head.

Germans believe in having a high degree of collective responsibility. They show concern for, look after, the people around them. Germans do not believe in leaving others alone to suffer the consequences of their own avoidable failures. Both the individual and the group is responsible for the individual. The weak – or less informed – should be supported with “Rat und Tat”, literally advice and action.

Der Deutsch-Franzoser

Not long ago. In a café, talking with a German graduate student interested in doing project work for me. He is intelligent, polite, listening carefully. At the table next to us another guy, same age, drinking tea, eating cake, typing into this laptop, headphones on, on his head a thin woolen cap. It‘s late November. After an hour or so our neighbor pays his bill, packs up his laptop, stands up then turns to me and says: Wissen Sie, es ist sehr unhöflich auf Menschen mit dem Zeigefinger zu deuten.

I was not aware that during my talk with the grad student that I had pointed to him with my index finger. But, wait! Who is this guy to interrupt our conversation and correct my behavior? I was shocked, but then again not surprised. I turned to the grad student – we were discussing differences between cultures – and smiled, saying softly: “There you are. Germans giving unsolicited advice.”

Hardly had I gotten that statement out and my friendly neighbor – not yet finished gathering his things – turned to me again and said: Ich bin Deutschfranzoser. He‘s bicultural, German and French. It wasn‘t worth my time to engage in a debate with him about the matter. It made me wonder, though, if the French also give unsolicited advice.

“Don’t walk around“

Several years ago. Atlanta. A management seminar. One of my first. I have the habit of walking around the room while I talk or listen. Two straight days of sitting is not healthy. And I tend to be wound up.

Day two, just after breakfast, I head to the seminar room to prepare a few flipcharts. Coming down the hall is one of the participants. German. He stops me, clearly angry with me. Sie sollten nicht die ganze Zeit im Seminar aufstehen und herumgehen. Das ist unprofessionell und stört. I should not stand up and walk around the room during the seminar. It is unprofessional. My reaction? Oh, ok. How nice to get such friendly advice.

Infant in a Pouch

Our son was only a few months old, but big enough to place in one of those pouches which hang over the shoulders with the child resting against your chest. It was a beautiful autumn day in Germany. Sun, blue skies, not even a light breeze. We headed out for a walk. Around the corner, up the street, then a turn into a wooded area with a maze of different walking paths.

From the opposite direction comes a woman, early 60s, alone, with her walking stick. Before we pass each other she makes eye-contact with me, says Guten Tag. We stop. She then offers her opinion.

The pouch my son was resting in was not good for him. Ungesund. Unhealthy. I looked at her. Surprised. Already a bit irritated. Another German offering their wisdom. Controlling myself, I asked why. The design cuts off the circulation to the upper part of the child’s legs. Das sollten Sie nicht nutzen. I shouldn‘t use the pouch. The woman continued on before I could react. It would not have mattered anyway.

Golf Swing next to Pool

Twenty laps done. I decided to jump out of the pool and simulate my golf swing. I had played a few rounds in the U.S., bought some used clubs, and decided to get back into it. Lap swimming builds shoulder muscles. Good to stretch a bit then swim some more. As I’m swiveling from right to left, swinging my imaginary golf club, I hear from lane two: Sie müssen die Hüfte stärker schwenken.

Had I heard that right? I needed to swing my hips a bit more? Oh no, I thought. Here we go again. I immediately knew that I had a choice to make. Get angry at him, wait for him to come out of the pool then tell him to keep his opinions to himself or not get angry.

I opted to react positively, looking at him with question marks in my eyes. He repeated himself, with a smile. I smiled back. After my swim I bumped into him in the locker room. Later, sitting outside we talked for well over an hour. He was a delightful gentleman who had simply looked for a way to strike up a conversation with me. I’m glad he did.

Bike Helmet

End of a workday. 6:30 pm. Winter. Dark. Raining lightly. I hop on my bike and head home. Turning into my street I ride along the sidewalk on the left hand side of the road. Slowly. Don‘t want the bike to slide out from under me. I also want to be respectful of pedestrians.

I see a woman about twenty-five meters ahead of me. Just before I pass her she suddenly sticks out her left arm like a pole to block me. It works. I brake suddenly, jump off and confront her. “Are you crazy? I could have fallen from my bike and injured myself.”

She stands her ground, looks me in the eye and says very calmly: Sie fahren auf dem Bürgersteig, auf der linken Seite der Strasse und ohne Licht. I was riding on the sidewalk as an adult, on the left hand side of the street and without a bicycle light on.

In Germany, all against the law. I was flabbergasted, not so much at the laws, which make perfect sense, but at the audacity of this woman to play enforcer of the law. I could hardly contain myself. Upon arriving at home I described the scene to my German wife. Her response? Sie hat recht. The woman was right. The marriage didn’t last.