Over the past 20 years, the old British trait of self-deprecation has been killed off. And in its place, boasting is booming.
Last week, I was told by an 80-year-old Scottish businessman what a successful shipping tycoon he is, how wonderful his poems are, and why young women find him so attractive. Over a three-hour dinner, he never drew breath, never asked a question and only ever talked about his brilliant self.
Tycoon types have always shown off, but now the habit has migrated down the generations and from men — the traditional show-offs — to women. I can no longer face seeing one old friend in her thirties, because every time I see her she says: ‘You know what? I’m bloody good at my job.’
At the younger end of the spectrum, the boasting has been boosted by the mollycoddling effects of an over-indulgent education system. Last week, the University of Sheffield revealed that undergraduates are allowed to avoid exam questions that include distressing topics like racism, sexuality and gender.
I gave up teaching at a university a few years ago when I was told not to correct spelling mistakes or give low marks in exams. ‘You seem to think that if a student does badly it’s their fault,’ I was told by my rampantly progressive boss. On another occasion, she took against me teaching dates and facts to the undergraduates: ‘You must understand. We’re not here to teach them what to think, but how to think.’ I handed in my notice shortly after.
If you’re never told off at school or university, and never get a bad mark, no wonder you enter your twenties thinking you’re the Messiah. And if you haven’t been taught anything about the outside world or anything that offends your world view, no wonder you have nothing to talk about apart from the ever-fascinating subject of yourself.
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