In Season 6 of The Crown, the etiquette adviser had to urgently step in during the middle of filming. What horror had he spotted? Dominic West, playing Prince Charles, was eating some asparagus. He was using a knife and fork. You can imagine the sweat beginning to form on the brow of the expert. He knew he must immediately shout, βOh my God, stop everythingβ.
Asparagus, it emerges, is meant to be eaten using the fingers, while green beans, an item of identical length, colour and weight, should be eaten with cutlery. Who knew? Meanwhile, bread rolls should be torn with the fingers, not cut with a knife; while a soup spoon, when dipped into soup, should travel away from the diner before making its final journey towards the mouth.
On the podcast Not Stupid, a listener recently supplied a 19th-century South Australian etiquette guide with the aim of amusing hosts Julia Baird and Jeremy Fernandez. Among the surprises was an injunction against expressing excessive praise for any dish. The idea was that such enthusiasm would imply the other dishes were not up to a similar standard, also that it was OK to take the last slice of cake. Holding off on grabbing the last piece, the guidebook argued, implied the hosting was so improvised thereβd be no backup cakes waiting in the pantry.
It was fascinating stuff, but not necessarily that helpful for a 2026 social gathering. We need an update, listing todayβs etiquette rules. Perhaps you could add some of your own.
Surprise Veganism. Holding a dinner party in 2026, youβll be lucky to have a single guest who says, βI eat everything.β Instead, youβll have one gluten-free person, a couple of vegans, a vegetarian who nonetheless eats fish, and a bloke who describes himself as βstrict paleoβ. These people are not being ill-mannered. The good host will try to cater to their needs. But not if itβs at the last minute. The phrase, βOh, I didnβt mention Iβm veganβ, just when the ChΓ’teaubriand is being served, is not OK.
Taking the last slice of cake. Unlike a 19th-century Adelaide mansion, there will be no emergency cake βin the pantryβ, ready to be plated up by βthe cookβ. Todayβs cook, as it happens, is sitting down opposite you at the table and is already exhausted. The βpantryβ is an overcrowded, moth-infested cupboard next to the sink. The last slice of cake should instead be slowly excavated by every diner, death by a thousand cuts, arms snaking across the table. In this way, responsibility for βtaking the last sliceβ is politely shared by all those in attendance.
The last slice of cake should instead be slowly excavated by every diner, death by a thousand cuts, arms snaking across the table.
Ozempic without disclosure. You donβt have to tell everybody, but you could whisper the truth to the friend who cooked your lovely dinner. βIβm going to eat half a chop and two bits of broccoli, but itβs nothing to do with your cooking.β
Spouting βfactsβ. Is there any 2026 dinner party or BBQ in which someone doesnβt assert that Trump was born a woman, that βeveryone knowsβ the new Pope is a Chinese asset, or that the Australian banks are about to collapse, probably this week? The people spouting the βfactβ read it on the internet. Just yesterday. They canβt quite remember who made the claim, but they found it very convincing. Of course, quoting stuff from the internet is acceptable. But itβs good manners to wait until you have some vague recollection of the source.
Bringing alcohol-free beer. You then drink all the hostβs bottle of 16.5 per cent Barossa Shiraz. Poor etiquette is making a healthy choice in the bottle shop, then an unhealthy one at the party.
Conducting an organ concert. When the South Australian etiquette guide was written, most people would be dead by 50 or 60. Now, marvellously, we live on β propped up by medical science. The only downside: an hourβs conversation about everybodyβs ailments at the start of each get-together. Folks, youβve got 10 minutes, max.
Proselytising your EV. OK, itβs great. Itβs the future. Good on you. May you go to heaven. And, yes, your last service cost only $4.50 for some new windscreen washers. The rest of us will soon get around to it. In the meantime, etiquette always demanded people avoid talk of βsex, politics and religionβ. Somehow, when you speak so loquaciously about your new EV, it appears to involve all three.
Showing photos on your phone. Fine, if you have them to hand. Your dog, your child, your new campervan β each could provide a photograph occasionally worth showing. But not when it takes 20 minutes as you scroll through your phone, flicking through hundreds of photos, holding the conversation at a standstill while you say: βItβs somewhere here. Iβll find it soon. Iβm nearly there.β
Wearing thongs. Australians have a casual attitude when it comes to dress, which is a good thing. All the same, a pair of thongs cannot be considered formal wear, even if they are black and double-pluggers.
Good luck at your next social occasion. And may all your asparagus remain cutlery-free.
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