English for Americans

The author of "Brit-think, Ameri-think" explains how our closest ally cherishes our good relations, even though we talk about ourselves too much.

By Suzy Hansen

Feb 5, 2003 | For the first time in a while, our Anglo brothers across the Atlantic seem like our best friends -- and often, among the few we have left. Whether you're for or against a war with Iraq, there's something to be said for British Prime Minister Tony Blair's (if not always his people's) unwavering support and compassion for America since Sept. 11. And there are surely many Americans who have come to appreciate Blair's firm but elegant argument for a hard line against Saddam Hussein, and wonder why it sounds so much better when he says it.

Maybe it is just the accent. But as Jane Walmsley, author of "Brit-think, Ameri-think," says, if we're going to stand shoulder to shoulder on so many world issues, the Americans and Brits might as well understand each other a little better. Walmsley, a Pittsburgh-born American who moved to England 25 years ago, is adamant that despite their close ties, Americans and Brits are really quite different, and in important ways.

Take the difference between American football and Brit-footie. According to Walmsley, American football is "an excuse for patriotic displays at halftime, postgame parties, and mega-salaries for anyone who looks like John Elway," while its British equivalent serves as "a way of letting off steam in public, allowing Brit-fans to pummel one another to a pulp in the stands while players hug and kiss on the field." Unlimited choice is another of Walmsley's examples. "The right to substitute a tossed salad or french fries is enshrined in the Constitution," she writes of America. But in Britain, that kind of freedom could "end in tears, or anarchy."

"Brit-think, Ameri-think" originally came out in 1986 but Walmsley felt that this year especially, the book was in desperate need of an update. The result is a hilarious guide to the two nations' current divisions -- on everything from sex and relationships to self-improvement and death, to war, food and the importance of being "cute."

Salon spoke to Walmsley from her office in London.

What was one of the biggest changes you felt you had to make when you moved?

I'm still adjusting. I felt like a war bride that moved in the wrong direction. The biggest difference between the Brits and Americans is that Americans think that death is optional. Americans are optimists. Americans believe in the ultimate perfectibility of life. They believe that everything gets better. They believe that if you try hard enough there's a steady crescendo of improvement and your fate is in your own hands. You can make things perfect for yourself. And it's certainly your job to try.

Take somebody like Oprah Winfrey -- she's the symbol of self-improvement.

Yes, you give her a whole chapter.

Because she is so fundamental to Ameri-think. She's all about self-esteem and perfectibility and viewing yourself as a work in progress. The whole psychology of that is that you must believe that A) improvement is possible and B) that it is actually possible to get it right. You are your own best project. And because we're Americans we somehow think that everyone else in the world thinks that way too, and of course, nothing can be further from the truth. They don't.

How do Brits view death then?

Brits have a much more philosophical attitude in general. They think that they have a much more developed sense of irony than the Americans do. They mean that Americans are terribly earnest and terribly straightforward and gung-ho. It's like having a very big dog in the house that keeps panting, "Like me! Like me! Like me!"

The British take a much drier and wryer view of the world. They think death is inevitable and there's only so much that one can do to help oneself. You're born with a certain set of cards and you play those cards the best way you can but please don't get too excited about it because this is just how things are.

Over here, of course, Britain frequently -- especially since the formation of the European Union -- gets lumped together with the rest of Europe.

First of all, a lot of Europe is a dead loss. There are only six grown-up countries in the world. Two of them are Britain and the United States. You can probably throw in Canada and Australia. And that leaves you with France. Well, you know, France reserves the right to sit on the fence and either come in or not come in and usually not come in. They say, "Oh, we would be there but unfortunately we are having lunch and we have the omelets on already and we cannot go to war." So you don't want to wait around for the French to come and help you. Or the Italians. Lovely as their country might be. You need your grown-up friends. And you can't really rely on Switzerland. It's well-meaning, but really dull.

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