Around the turn of the millennium an online publication called the Journal of Mundane Behavior was established, with three issues per year. Though – like the Ig Nobel Prize - it sounds a bit of a joke, and may have started out as such, its aims were serious, and pertinent to the minutiae of daily life and commonplace activity. The word “mundane” of course derives from Latin roots meaning “the world”. Intended as a proper, peer-reviewed, academic journal within the field of sociology, it was set up by Scott Schaffer of the Millersville University of Pennsylvania and Myron Orleans at the Fullerton campus of California State University, its avowed purpose being to investigate the seemingly minor, obvious, commonplace and redundant aspects of everyday life and behaviour, those which are routinely overlooked and ignored.
Alas, it survived only three years, ceasing publication in 2004. The typical contents of this journal, were it still flourishing, could have been so valuable during the present corona-crisis, and especially as we try to “open up our world” to return safely to normality. What, in its brief existence, the J. Mund. Behav. excelled in, was the minute examination of how people behave in very ordinary situations – like what Japanese people do in crowded lifts, or the social implications of facial hair. In our current predicament we are discovering that it is useful to know exactly what people do, how they behave – right down to every micro-movement – in the most ordinary activities and transactions, the most mundane circumstances, like buying a parking ticket, boarding a bus, collecting a takeaway, ordering a pint, borrowing a book from a library, playing in a park, or choosing a seat on the train. In the June 2001 issue three authors from UK universities – Eric Laurier, Angus Whyte and Kathy Buckner, presented a paper called “An ethnography of a neighbourhood café: informality, table arrangements and background noise”. Yes, I know, that was my first reaction too, but I persevered, and this article forms the basis of the subject I want to discuss today – understanding everyday behaviours in order to live more adventurously again, more normally again, but in safety. Evidently we need to understand better, at a deeper level, what is normal, so that we can start living again.
The “neighbourhood café”. Across nations and centuries the precise nature of a café has varied, as the authors describe, but in the present-day British context there are certain norms and expectations that are so familiar as to be almost invisible, lurking around the threshold of conscious awareness. These relate to the physical arrangement of a café, the behaviour of staff and customers, and “what we do” when we go to such a place. Unless we are young children or have some specific psychosocial disabling condition, we probably think that we know how to use a café. Occasionally we will encounter unexpected oddities (“order at the side window”, “trays are behind you”) which we cope with on the spot, and in situations abroad we may be temporarily flummoxed, especially if we don’t speak the language, but by and large using a café isn’t something we need to “think twice” about. The main issues to resolve will be whether it is self / counter / table service, is there alcohol, what’s on the menu, are the prices reasonable, should we sit inside or outside, is there a noisy group we want to avoid, is it draughty by the window / door, is there a table free, and which one? Sussing this out rapidly and intuitively is part of the experience, and generally not too taxing. We go in, or we don’t, and that’s that.
As I say, the Journal of Mundane Behavior is / was serious and academic, and while it is easy to dismiss studies of this sort as pretentious explications of the bleeding obvious, confirming one’s worst stereotypical expectations of psychobabble and sociowaffle, once you start reading the journal – and specifically this paper – it is immediately clear that there is a great deal to study and to think about as regards aspects of life which are familiar, important, and useful - but rarely reported upon.
When the authors state early on that “cafés are places where we are not simply served hot beverages but are also in some way partaking of a specific form of public life” one senses one’s innate BS-detector preparing to kick in, but to back away at this point would be unfortunate, especially given the present circumstances. Amid a pandemic there are things we need to understand clearly about the very ordinary. When every transaction in the so-called hospitality industry has to be pre-meditated and choreographed carefully in the interests of minimising the spread of a potentially lethal virus, as well as for staying financially afloat, the matter becomes very serious indeed. Which is ironic, because a café should be a place of relaxation, informality and pleasure. Deliberating what should be free and easy, pre-planning spontaneous goofing off, having all the fun taken out of things, are among the many demoralising knock-on effects of this hateful plague.
The café the authors describe is called the Flaming Cup; I’m not sure where it is or whether it is a fictional composite, but they do a thorough job of describing what goes on in the daily life of such an establishment, backed up by an impressive array of references, many of a theoretical nature, or relating to relevant analogous studies. Among their observations of the Flaming Cup are that behaviours are reliably regular despite changes of staff or customers, and that it is important to staff that a sense of informality and intimacy prevail, though in an orderly manner, along with cleanliness and the provision of high quality consumables. The authors describe the signage explaining to customers the rules for ordering food and for taking a table, and they note typical customer behaviours in (literally) “bagging” a table by leaving a bag or coat on it while queueing to order food, and at busy times by standing behind and holding the back of a chair at an empty table so as to pressurise the staff into clearing away and re-setting, and the specific tactics used by larger groups of customers.
To encourage informality, table-sharing is encouraged, it being recognised that where strangers are involved this necessitates an ability and willingness to engage in small talk, at the same time ensuring that declining to do so is not viewed negatively. The authors note that while all the tables and chairs are of similar design, size and shape, not all the places are of equal value, with a table by the window being the most sought after. Customer behaviour, in terms of table selection, they note, will be influenced in part by the state of readiness of the table, from what is left on it, and from signs that people already occupying tables will soon be leaving. Obvious perhaps, but a recognisably valid observation.
Specific expectations relate to regular customers, in that they are assumed to understand the rules about table reservation, that they may be known to have a favourite table and a regular food and drink order, and that they will arrive at a predictable time; they may also be known by name and by other personal details, and may be on first name terms with other regulars and with members of the staff. Further assumptions refer to knowledge of where the toilets are, of what the best things are to order, reading and writing at the table, the nature of background noise, and the rituals attached to entering and leaving.
Overall, the authors provide a detailed and extensively referenced account of the macro and micro features of using this specific café, and by implication, all similar establishments whose themes are good service, openness and informality.
As one reads, one will relate the description to a recollection of one’s own experiences – good or less so – at cafés one has frequented, and the various observations are likely to trigger questions about deeper levels of detail and other “what ifs” that might arise. For instance, if the study were updated, what would be discovered with respect to expectations about mobile phone use at the table?
Such circumstances may be mundane, but they are replicated in essence thousands of times across the country, and perhaps millions of times across the world, every day. During a global crisis, a time when eating out and catering for those who want to eat out sometimes feels like conducting a military exercise, such documents provide a valuable starting point for considering how best to operate. This point-by-point unpacking of how a routine activity is performed takes on a new and instructive role during this time, and it deserves wider visibility. It should, dare I say it, go viral, and inspire similar investigations in other commonplace situations.
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