A Civil Tongue

Bureaucrats learn manners

In a nation with an all but obsessive concern about self-improvement, one institution so far has remained relatively impervious to change: the bureaucracy. Otto von Bismarck inaugurated the German civil service in 1871, an innovation that many of his countrymen now regard as the Iron Chancellor's least admirable accomplishment. There is hardly a German who has not been humiliated at one time or another by the uniquely imperious attitude of public employees--a maddening amalgam of officiousness, condescension and cantankerousness. A recent West German telephone poll, for example, showed that 62% of the callers were "very critical" of their bureaucracy, labeling it "obstinate and lazy" and possessed of a "caste mentality."

The bureaucracy is now trying to teach itself better manners. The autodidactic exercise began after West Germany's Postal Minister, Kurt Gscheidle, suffered a frustrating run-in with his own employees while trying to buy stamps. Gscheidle was treated so rudely that he vowed to bring about a change. He ordered the post office, West Germany's biggest federal employer (480,000 workers), to start three-day courses in better behavior for its counter clerks. Among the lessons: no grimacing or staring; keep a "friendly, open facial expression"; "nod your head to show approval and consent"; avoid use of the insultingly familiar pronoun du. So far, about 15,000 of 30,000 postal counter clerks have taken the etiquette course. Reports a post office official: "It's going well; the clerks are really friendlier afterward."

Inspired by Gscheidle's revolutionary idea, the finance ministry of Bavaria recently issued a 24-page booklet to its civil servants titled Behoerde und Buerger, (Authorities and Citizens). A kind of Emily Post primer for bureaucrats, it offers the provocative thought that bureaucracy is a public service for the benefit of West German citizens. It suggests that civil servants should try to put themselves in their clients' place. Avoid bawling out citizens for making mistakes on application forms, advises the booklet. Try to understand that they do not know all laws, "as you do."

The Bavarian booklet originally was intended only for junior bureaucrats who had been on the job for a year or less. (The reason for bypassing more senior bureaucrats, explained a finance ministry official tactfully, is that they "have gained the necessary experience, or if they haven't, they might feel miffed.") But requests for copies of Behoerde und Buerger have come in from other governments across West Germany. A first printing of 20,000 brochures sold out; another 10,000 or so are scheduled to be run off this month.

The public response to this onslaught of civility in the civil service has been mild astonishment--and gratitude. One woman, flabbergasted as a solicitous postal employee repacked a badly parceled piece of mail, could only stammer, "Danke, danke." In Bavaria, a local department store took Behoerde und Buerger to heart and started its own courtesy campaign. The wave of Teutonic tact even seems to be paying dividends for the civil servants. Says one graduate of the postal service deportment course: "Somehow, I feel much less insecure now."

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