On the compressed stage of modern air travel and community life, three readers brought Miss Manners their small but genuine wounds — a body touched without consent, a life's service met with laughter, a friendship suspended in another couple's uncertainty. In each case, the columnist's counsel was the same ancient wisdom dressed in contemporary clothes: restrain the impulse to escalate, speak plainly when speech is needed, and resist the temptation to make another person's crisis your own. These are not merely questions of etiquette but of how we hold our dignity when the world presses too clo
Miss Manners: Airplane Passenger's Poke Sparks Etiquette Debate
Leave room for the possibility that the other person's motives were not purely hostile.
Mark
So the core issue on the plane—is it really about the poking, or is it about the passenger not understanding why she was being poked?
Mimi
It's both. The poking itself violated a basic boundary. But Miss Manners is saying the hearing-impaired passenger couldn't know whether the poke was aggression or desperation—maybe the window-seat passenger had a medical emergency, or thought the aisle passenger was asleep.
Luke
But we don't actually know that. The source doesn't tell us what the window-seat passenger's motive was. Miss Manners is speculating about "pressing medical concern" as a possibility, not as something that happened.
Mimi
Right. Which is why the advice is about restraint—not assuming the worst, even when you've been violated.
Mark
And the volunteer story—is Miss Manners saying the friends were wrong to laugh?
Mimi
She's saying they were predictably self-interested. They laughed because the volunteer's departure would create work for them. Miss Manners isn't condemning them, just naming what's really happening.
Luke
Though again, we're only hearing one side. We don't know if those friends actually understood the volunteer was serious, or if there's a pattern of the volunteer joking about stepping back.
Mark
The marriage question feels almost dismissive.
Mimi
It is. Miss Manners is saying: you're worried about something that isn't your responsibility. If they want to tell you about their marriage, they will.
Luke
That's fair, but it also assumes the writer isn't actually close to this couple. If they were, the writer would probably know the status without having to wonder.
Il Polso
- A hearing-impaired passenger, poked by a seatmate demanding she rise before the aisle cleared, felt her bodily autonomy violated at thirty thousand feet — a small indignity with outsized sting.
- Miss Manners validated the grievance but urged the woman to temper her fury, noting that the poker may have been driven by a medical urgency invisible to her seatmate.
- A veteran volunteer in her late sixties tried to announce her retirement from years of community service, only to have her friends laugh it off as though exhaustion were a punchline.
- Miss Manners advised her to say it again, louder and plainer, while acknowledging that the laughter likely masked the group's own dread of losing her labor rather than any true disbelief.
- A third reader, paralyzed by a friend couple's recurring near-divorce, agonized over whether to send an anniversary card — and was gently reminded that silence, in this case, is not a failure of friendship but a form of grace.
On the compressed stage of modern air travel and community life, three readers brought Miss Manners their small but genuine wounds — a body touched without consent, a life's service met with laughter, a friendship suspended in another couple's uncertainty. In each case, the columnist's counsel was the same ancient wisdom dressed in contemporary clothes: restrain the impulse to escalate, speak plainly when speech is needed, and resist the temptation to make another person's crisis your own. These are not merely questions of etiquette but of how we hold our dignity when the world presses too close.
When a woman with severe hearing loss chose to remain seated after landing, waiting for the aisle to thin, the stranger in the window seat reached across and poked her — demanding she stand. Uncertain whether she had missed some communication through her hearing aid and cochlear implant, the passenger responded with anger, invoking the kindergarten rule: keep your hands to yourself.
Miss Manners agreed that poking a seatmate is indefensible. But she cautioned against what she called full-throttled fury, suggesting instead a firm, quiet refusal to comply — and a moment's allowance for the possibility that the other passenger was driven by a medical urgency neither woman could have named in the heat of the moment. The lesson was not absolution for the poker, but a reminder that restraint costs less than escalation.
A second reader, a woman in her late sixties with decades of volunteer work behind her, had recently tried to tell her fellow community members that she needed to step back. They laughed. Miss Manners was unsentimental in her reply: say it again at the next meeting, expect more laughter, and understand that the resistance has nothing to do with her wellbeing — it is the sound of people calculating who will carry the load once she is gone.
A third reader found herself paralyzed by a friend couple's marital limbo, having heard rumors of yet another impending divorce after several false alarms. She could not bring herself to send an anniversary card. Miss Manners offered quiet relief: if they have not reached out, there is no immediate problem to solve. Curiosity about another couple's marriage, however kindly meant, does not require you to act — and sometimes the most gracious thing is simply to wait.
A woman with severe hearing loss sat in the aisle seat of a commercial flight, waiting for the cabin to empty after landing. The middle and window seats were occupied by strangers. As other passengers stood in the aisle waiting for the door to open, she remained seated, giving the crowd time to thin. The woman in the window seat reached across and poked her, demanding she stand up. The passenger, uncertain whether the poke was an attempt at communication she had missed due to her hearing aid and cochlear implant, responded with anger. She told the woman not to touch her. The incident prompted her to write to Miss Manners, invoking the principle taught in kindergarten: keep your hands to yourself.
Miss Manners acknowledged the fundamental rule. Poking a seatmate is not acceptable behavior. But she also counseled against meeting the transgression with what she called "full-throttled fury." The columnist suggested that the passenger's reasonable frustration needed tempering—that holding one's arm steady and declining to instantly comply would make the point without escalation. More importantly, Miss Manners noted, the poking passenger might have had a pressing medical concern, something the hearing-impaired traveler could not have known in the moment. The advice amounted to a call for restraint: acknowledge the violation, but leave room for the possibility that the other person's motives were not purely hostile.
The column also addressed a volunteer in her late sixties who had begun to feel the weight of her commitments. Over years of involvement in community organizations—arts, history, service, political advocacy—she had devoted substantial time and energy. Recently, feeling more tired than usual and contending with age-related medical issues, she mentioned during a meeting that she wanted to cut back on some of her responsibilities. Her friends laughed. They seemed to interpret her comment as a joke, perhaps even as false modesty masking her continued enthusiasm. She felt hurt and misunderstood.
Miss Manners' response was brisk: announce the cutback directly at the next meeting. Yes, there would be more laughter, more denial, more attempts to persuade her to stay. But that resistance, the columnist suggested, had little to do with the volunteer's wellbeing and everything to do with the burden her departure would place on others. Sympathy, Miss Manners implied, would be directed not toward the tired volunteer but toward those left to fill the gap.
A third question concerned how to navigate a friendship with a couple in marital turmoil. The writer had heard that the couple was filing for divorce, but this had happened before—multiple times. The writer wanted to express goodwill without stepping into painful territory, and could not bring herself to offer an anniversary greeting. Miss Manners cut through the anxiety with characteristic directness: if you have not heard from them, you have no immediate problem. The columnist's tone suggested a mild amusement at the writer's concern, a gentle reminder that curiosity about someone else's marriage, however well-intentioned, does not obligate you to act.
Citazioni salienti
Poking one's seat mate is not allowed, Miss Manners will agree.— Miss Manners
If you have not heard from them, Miss Manners does not see that you have any immediate problem.— Miss Manners, on navigating a friend's uncertain marital status
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