Through the Aardvark service, Tim F. from Boston asked me the following question: Why are French people so rude? I thought this deserved a public answer. Please tell me if you have something more profound to add.

That’s a good one; and I am proud, being a Parisian myself, to answer your question.

Let us put aside, for the argument’s sake, the obvious moral and logical hole in the question’s phrasing. Why are people in Paris so rude? Well, they’re not. Like everywhere else, some are. Some appear to be. Some simply are not. But that is not what the question is about.

The question is about perception and reputation, not about fact.

So, let us clarify. What is the real perception behind the question – the overall rudeness of the people in Paris, or their rudeness towards strangers in particular (especially North American ones)?

People in Paris Are Rude to Strangers

1. Everybody Else’s Cultural Exception

Along with an uncommonly crass ability for learning foreign languages, many French people, regardless of their age, have yet to come to terms with the rest of the world’s unwillingness to switch to French as a global language. Parisian shop owners’ sense of entitlement when they refuse to attend to non-French speaking patrons is a delight to behold. In time, you will learn to appreciate it. Before that, you would be better inspired to learn some French.

2. Then Again, Why Act Nice With Tourists?

As David Foster Wallace so precisely wrote, “as a tourist, you become economically significant but existentially loathsome, an insect on a dead thing.”

Actually, the insect metaphor deserves some exploration. I have taken the liberty to map walking patterns in my street (one of the most touristy ones of Paris, right underneath the Sacré Cœur). To wit: the tourists evolve using an irregular sinusoidal pattern with a constantly changing speed, not altogether unlike a colony of drunk marching ants, hypnotised by nearby accordéon music. The local, conversely, enjoys a fast, steady and efficient ride through the urban threads. When the two curves cross each other, rudeness might occur.

Tourisme

3. We Used to Be Best Fucking Friends

Then there is this love / hate thing going in between the American and the French. Sure, the French lent their philosophers a few centuries ago, and in return the American helped the French out of several tight situations, most involving the Germans. Perhaps they helped too much, because the French, being much prouder than they can afford to, have resorted to despising American culture in return. Common siblings stuff going on here, especially when the younger child just seems bigger and better in almost every respect (that is, if you take out culture, food, social care, health, and so on).

So: it’s not rudeness. It is a love cry. Deep down.

People in Paris Are Just Rude

1. The “Shell” Theory

People in Paris are not rude, they just do not engage in superficial or short-lived relationships. Like lobsters, Parisians are actually a delicious, constant source of delight once they have taken their shell away.

I am fittingly reminded of this wonderful article about why New Yorkers seem rude : “In the United States today, public behavior is ruled by a kind of compulsory cheer that people probably picked up from television and advertising and that coats their transactions in a smooth, shiny glaze, making them seem empty-headed. New Yorkers have not yet gotten the knack of this.”

2. Sartrian Waiters

It is a common subject of blague that the higher standing the restaurant, the ruder the waiter should be. Sartre once wrote a book about this phenomenon, arguing that deep down, the waiter is not actually rude, but afraid of freedom.

3. Just Because

Does the truth have to be so ugly? Are people in Paris are just rude, period? Sure they despise every other city in the country, they drive like hell, they do not talk to strangers, nor do they help the forlorn foreigner struggling with his upside down plan de métro. Their politeness consist of pre-recorded cries of bonjour, merci, au r'voir and most especially pardon, so conveniently handed out when they viciously bump into you and stroll away without a second look. They are so rude, only Swedes (via) ever told me they found the French polite.

Now just get over with it and get off my street. Putain.