The link to the Miss Manner's interview reminded me that there was another quote from /Darkest England/, by Idries Shah, which I thought was particularly appropriate, given some of what was discussed in /Issola/. [Begin Cite] Nowadays foreigners tend to call English directness by softer names, such as `tactlessness'. Their brusqueness, or tactlessness, call it what you will, is deliberate; paradoxically, it is engendered by the operation of careful purpose. It is this very word which gave me an early breakthrough in understanding the English, through the wisdom of an Afghan sage, Sufi Abdul-Hamid Khan. The old Sufi and I were in London. As Master of the Royal Mint in Kabul and a considerable calligrapher, he had the task of supervising the production here of a new issue of high-denomination Afghan banknotes. We were received with courtesy by the meaning director of a large security-printing firm, who asked me to translate for Abdul-Hamid something which, though a pleasantry in English, would have been considered rather coarse in our language. As I hesitated, the Sufi picked up my thoughts, and said, `He's being tactless, I suppose?' I said, `Well, he hasn't got your /saliqa/' - the word we use to mean intuition, including a sense of delicacy. After the meeting, at Abdul-Hamid's hotel, the old man asked me what the English word for `tact' was, and I told him. `And what, exactly, does it mean?' 'It means,' I said, `being sensitive to how people are feeling, to things that might hurt or affront, and acting accordingly.' `Aga', said the sage, `although I don't know these people's tongue, and you are a master of it, experiences such as ours today indicates that you cannot be quite right.' `Friend Sufi', I said, `far be it from me to question any of your perceptions, but everyone in this country knows full well exactly what this very common word means, and is thoroughly sensible to its nuances. I admit to including myself in their number.' He was a very gentle kind of man, and he just smiled kindly and asked me to find a good English dictionary. I went out and bought one, the current edition of Chambers's. `Now please, if you will, look up that word.' He pointed to his note, in perfect Nastaliq phonetics: `TAKT'. I riffled through the book, to page 1122: `Here you are: "/tact/ [pronounced] /takt/, noun. Adroitness in managing the feelings of persons dealt with. . ."' I put it down and smiled. He nodded. `Now please see what else it may say under that heading.' Reluctantly, I opened the book again, and read the rest of the sentence: "'Nice perception in seeing and doing exactly what is best in the circumstances."' The Sufi bowed. `Thank you. Now perhaps you see what I mean?' 'Not entirely. I think that man at the printers did lack nice perception.' `Ah', said Abdul-Hamid, `there you have it. I am quite sure that he did not lack it. He had the perception of what kind of effect any words of his might have on us. What he was doing was a consequence of what he thought was best - for him - under the circumstances.' Best /for him/. That was the clue. So, when an Englishman says or does something you don't like, ask yourself whether he really is acting against his own interests. He may only be using his assessment to handle the situation. How do you know, for instance, that he doesn't want to ruffle or confuse you? It could be in your own interests to know. [End Cite]