40 experiences that define and unite modern men
I critique a light-hearted listicle on British culture and propose my own cheeky twist.
The Guardian published an article this week called “The rise of Britishcore: 100 experiences that define and unite modern Britons”. I groaned when I saw the title: as my friend Jon observed: “100 things is a terrible number of things to try to write about just for the sake of doing a bit.”
Benji pointed out how the article doesn’t make a single reference to LGBTQ culture, and Pete posted a great thread breaking down his feelings about the piece: “I find it scary and disconcerting, a bit like visiting a deeply conservative town and realising you don't belong.”
Let’s be clear: it’s a frothy, light-hearted listicle that’s jumping on the Very British Problems meme train several years after it left the station.
But it’s a bold claim for any article to try to list things that can “unite” modern Britons. With that in mind, I’ve decided to have a go at rewriting the article here, but with a couple of caveats:
100* experiences that define and unite modern Britons**
* 40. I’m not going to inflict 100 on you, don’t worry.
** White heterosexual middle-class men, probably.
Okay, fine, let’s try that again:
40 experiences that define and unite a particularly niche group of certain types of men called Matt
Accidentally adopting Americanisms like “dude” and “man” into your speech while at sixth form and being unable to completely abandon them despite now pushing 40
Reading books about feminism but being unable to resist telling people you read books about feminism
A brief “getting into BBQ” phase
Unexpectedly seeing a friend or acquaintance and averting your eyes and studiously ignoring one another
Awkwardly yanking someone into an unexpected hug in order to quickly end the “do we do a handshake or not” debate
Overdressing for the weather but choosing to leave the uncomfortable jumper on in order to mask the scent of sweat (or visible patches) it’s causing
Buying sourdough even though you think it dominates the flavour of sandwiches too much and is a pain to slice
Only drinking lager when on holiday abroad, and even then, only in an “ironic” way
Knowing, at some point, the difference between cask versus keg ale (and having an opinion on it)
Going to IKEA for pleasure
Drinking an obviously-awful “complex” beer and pretending to enjoy it because it cost twice as much as the IPA
Wearing the same massive black glasses that everybody else does because apparently that’s what we do now
Getting into second-wave espresso and buying any kind of coffee bean grinder
Making post-ironic Alan Partridge references to people who have never and will never watch it, while telling yourself “it’s different when I do it”
Writing a message to a friend and momentarily panicking that you don’t actually know their name
Owning any music at all on vinyl (bonus points if you’ve never played it on the turntable you grudgingly feel obliged to own)
Listening to the music of any of the following bands/artists: Sufjan Stevens, Nick Drake, any of the Wainwrights, any of the Buckleys, any of the Radiohead spinoff acts etc
Owning a Nectar card (and using it)
Driving an electric car
Not being on Facebook / Twitter / Instagram (and making it a central tenet of your personality)
Being unable to remove the beard you’ve worn for so long that you can’t imagine life without it, despite the lingering sense that it’s now making you look youthful in a bad, I-can-still-pass-for-a-student-right kind of way
Using “lad banter” ironically: “they’ll let anyone in here”, “lads lads lads” etc. It still counts.
Being into a major fantasy series that isn’t Game of Thrones (despite having read all the books) because it’s “too mainstream”
Having a “graphic novel phase”
Briefly deciding you’re going to get into investing and somehow conquer the stock market with £50 your auntie gave you and an absolute disdain for capitalism
Shopping in Marks and Spencer by choice
Opening the car windows on summer afternoons specifically to show off the obscure Hendrix b-side you like at high volume
Considering getting off the tube early in order to get out of making small talk with your colleague who you know lives one stop away from you
Actually getting off the tube early in order to get out of making small talk with your colleague who you know lives one stop away from you
Being able to hold forth with eloquence and aplomb about the negative impact the Gallagher brothers had on society; the ills of Britpop; how Blur were the real innovators; how artists cuddling up to New Labour was sad and pathetic; and yet still impersonating Liam’s sunshyiiiiine when alone and knowing every word to every Oasis single
Ordering spicier curries than everyone else because you like authentic Indian food and know the good stuff, not because you’re a macho bloke. Pay for it later in the toilets.
Buying a selection of crisps for the table when in the pub and carefully opening each one into a foil-backed platter for the table, without being asked
Avoiding most topics of conversation when around certain family members to avoid the inevitable cringe when they begin a borderline-racist rant you’re not brave enough to confront them over, even though Americans on social media tell you you should “do better”
Going to see live comedy even though it’s patently not as good as just watching it on TV when there’s zero chance of anyone abusing you for cheap laughs from a position of power unless it’s your partner shaming you for over-microwaving the popcorn again
Owning a hat of any kind and thinking you could just wear it
An ill-advised leather jacket.
Going to Speaker’s Corner when in London because you want to hear the real voice of the people and witness democracy in action
Flashing your lights at another driver to let them go and silently writhing with pleasure because you’ve pretended that you’re a god who can control other beings simply by pressing buttons
Having a go at making cocktails at home, even the ones that involve egg
Talking about sheds in any way
Mini-feels this week
How to improve on Jane Austen
Years ago I was in sixth form studying Jane Austen’s Emma. We’d been reading the book for a couple of months (only during class) and suddenly my friend Joe burst out laughing in the silent classroom. It was a while before any of us could get him to speak.
It turned out that back at the start of the year when we were given the books, he’d opened it at a random page and scribbled “AND THEN EMMA DIED” at the end. Months later, we’d finally reached that page – he’d forgotten about his snap ending, and was overjoyed.
I love this kind of humour because it’s a gift to a future you – even better if you’re not around to witness it, though. Sometimes I leave post-it notes with silly messages (“HELP, I’M TRAPPED IN A POST-IT FACTORY”) in random cupboards at work, in the hope that years from now, it’ll briefly entertain a bored office manager who discovers it.
Be the mildly-amusing change you want to see in the world.