Politeness or civility? Alexandra Hudson untangles the difference.

For Alexandra Hudson, working in Washington, D.C., was a culture shock. Ms. Hudson hails from Canada, land of the nice, where her mother is a renowned coach of good manners. So when working at a U.S. government agency, she was taken aback by brusque, sharp-elbowed office politics. To her relief, she also met colleagues who were well mannered. “At first, I thought, ‘OK, these are my people,’” says Ms. Hudson, in a video interview from her Indianapolis home. “And then I realized that these people would smile at you, flatter you, and stab you in the back the moment that you no longer served their purposes.” It prompted Ms. Hudson to consider the difference between politeness and civility. Her first book, “The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles To Heal Society and Ourselves,” looks at how to bridge gaps and find commonalities. Ms. Hudson spoke with Monitor staff writer Stephen Humphries.

Can you recall an insight that surprised you while writing this book?

Clarity came when I understood there was a difference between civility and politeness. That politeness, I argue in my book, is a technique. It’s etiquette. Manners is the superficial stuff. Civility, by contrast, is a disposition of the heart, a way of seeing others as our moral equals and worthy of respect because of our shared dignity as human beings. 

The Latin root of politeness is polire, which means to smooth or to polish. And that’s what politeness does. It polishes over differences. ... Whereas civility comes from the Latin word civitas, which means city and citizenship. And that’s what civility is. It’s the habits and duties of citizenship that sometimes requires telling hard truths, sometimes requires protest and civil disobedience.  

What is the “soul” of civility?

When we are cruel and malicious to others, it doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s not just us hurting someone else. We are hurt as well. It deforms us, our souls, as well. 

The soul of civility [is] acting in ways that cultivate our soul. ... We further appreciate the humanity and dignity and personhood of those around us. ... And in light of that, the differences that may exist between us are far outweighed by the commonalities we have as members of the human community. 

In your own life, do you have any stories of being uncivil to someone and then, upon reflection, changing course?

I was on this very high-end store’s website trying to purchase an item. And I was frustrated that my coupon code that I got from registering with the store wasn’t working. So I called the customer service line and they told me, “Oh, sorry, there’s fine print. This is exempt from the discount.” I was apoplectic.

It was after [the customer service agent] had actually given me the discount because I had thrown this little mini tantrum that I was like, “Oh my gosh, what have I done?” 

I deeply apologized to her. And she so graciously forgave me. And looking back, you know, it wasn’t even about the coupon code. There were other things going on in my life that made me frustrated and less gracious than I otherwise might be and should be. ... 

That’s something that I’ve learned. When I encounter a person clearly having a bad day, [I try] to have that attitude of, “OK. There’s clearly something else going on here.” ... That might give us a greater spirit of graciousness and compassion that I was so grateful to have been shown when I was not at my best. 

You write that “our very civilization is held together by small common courtesies, which is why such small, simple daily acts matter.” Can you expand on why that is?

If we go through life without a care in the world for how our actions affect others, that has a negative, vicious ripple effect. We’re annoyed that our boss was unkind to us. Then we take that out on the bus driver on our way home from work, or the clerk at the grocery store, and they go home and are mean to their child. Then that child goes to school the next day and is mean to their teacher.

Less often do we hear examples of the inverse. Stories of one magnanimous soul’s power to sow seeds of light and grace that germinate and create a mellifluous echo across time and place. 

So we can’t change the world, but we can change ourselves. And if enough of us choose to reclaim the soul of civility, I think we might be able to change the world. 

How do we bridge divides when we don’t have contact with people who are unlike us? 

There’s a person I feature in my book named Joanna Taft, who is staging a revolution against this era of animosity and atomization from her front porch. She intentionally invites people to her porch from different racial, ethnic, geographic, religious backgrounds.

It’s essential to find opportunities to not just be around people like us and to have the exposure to people of different perspectives and from different walks of life. ... It’s an attitude towards others in the world around us. One of openness. It’s a welcoming spirit and one that wants to reach across the divide and to be a gatekeeper, not in the exclusive sense, but in the inclusive sense that welcomes people into our home and into our lives.