
Streets are named for the buildings they serve. In the 150 meters north from this sign, one is on Trumpington Street, King’s Parade, Trinity Street, St John’s Street, and then Round Church Lane. In most cases one uses landmark buildings to find the street, and not the other way around.
Michaelmas term ends this week. The streets are empty and quiet, as students are writing their papers. Overheard on St Andrew Street this morning: “You have the appearance of having been up all night.” “Very disconcertingly, I have to say I have not been.” The similarities between the UK and USA are apparent, but there are deep differences, some of them hidden in plain sight, and much we could profitably copy.
Electrical cords have bulbous sockets where they are plugged into the wall. That is because they have surge protectors built into them. The English openly show their appreciation at performances. A hack guest lecturer can expect at least twenty seconds of firm applause. A green is called “pieces” and is usually named after a benefactor or adjacent college, as in Parker’s Pieces. The green next to Christ’s College has an unfortunate name.
The young women in Cambridge dress better than they do in California, but many of them are so poor that they cannot afford tops that connect up with their bottoms. Men make little pretense. All of this gives new meaning to the Britishism “mind the gap!” A faculty member will lecture in a sports coat with an open shirt. Some only have one sports coat. Tucking the shirt into one’s pants is typical but optional. Dressing up means a suit, but not necessarily a tie. At the other extreme, formal and ceremonial dress is lavish. I once saw a faculty member lecture in slacks, a tie, and no sports coat – but he was Canadian.
Churches are everywhere and heavily used. The chapels in each college support a mandatory eight services per week and are host numerous cultural events. There is no stigma attached to using any church beyond strictly sacred means. On almost any day one could have lunch (pay what you can) in several churches in Cambridge. Most churches have bookstores and gift shops. We have seen tractors and live sheep in churches here.
Amateurism is esteemed; professionalism has a faint odor about it. This distinction has nothing whatsoever to do with the quality of performance. Darwin was an amateur, as was Thomas Clarkson, who entered politics to bring an end to slavery. Faculty members may not hold appointments in departments where they took their training. The choristers in the great choirs are amateurs although you can listen to them weekly around the world on their Web casts. High school musicals have live orchestras. Amateur means “done for the intrinsic love of it.” Professional means paid.
Faculty members are rewarded here much as they are in the States – personal satisfaction, take as much as you want. In the social sciences, consulting for business and government help make ends meet. In the natural sciences, there is always the hope of patenting a breakthrough. But the English humanities faculty members have a unique hope: there is a prospect of knighthood or even peerage. One of the individuals in the philosophy department I corresponded with before coming to Cambridge declined being my sponsor because she had just been named a baronet and was taking her place in the House of Lords. The former secretary general of the British Dental Association, who was one of my sponsors, was knighted.
There are wonderfully quaint expressions everywhere: “Undecided” on a questionnaire is “to boggle” – an active verb. But there are some usages that are exactly anticlockwise from what we would expect. Use of “which” and “that” to begin subordinate clauses is reversed. If you asked someone whether his boat was in good shape, he would answer “It is well, thank you,” and he would not mean that it had recovered from being sea sick. In America, we begin and end a quotation with what look like two apostrophes and embed a subordinate quote in single apostrophes. The English do it otherwise. They also put the punctuation outside the quotations; we do not – except for colons and semicolons. No periods in abbreviated titles and articles are often dropped: ‘Dr Smith is in hospital’.
Lectures from visitors or at meetings are typically in the evening and invariably two hours in length. Half of the time is devoted to questioning. During the question and answer session, the chair keeps two lists of who would like to be recognized. If a member of the audience wants to pursue the topic under discussion, he or she will raise a finger. Raising one’s hand signals an interest in introducing a new topic.
The English have a different view of personal rights than we do in the States. Rights are well understood and insisted on in the UK. We talk about them more in the US: we seem to want to have them recognized, even if we have no use for them at the moment. The right of way in a British roundabout belongs to those already in the roundabout; if you forget that, it is probable that you will be driven off the road with nothing particular being said about it. By contrast, when I flew back to San Antonio for the ADA meeting, I was jarred by the whistles of airport police waving frantically at unresponsive drivers and treated to a colorful and rude exchange of words and gestures between my cab driver and another motorist who paid no attention to each other. I find I learn more quickly from the rights people exercise than the ones they talk about.
Almost everything in England is private and available to the public. You just have to ask, and be willing to be declined. Christopher Wren’s wonderful library at Trinity (with first editions of Newton’s work, among others) or the personal library of Samuel Pepys at Magdalene can be viewed in response to a polite request at the right time. The wife of the master at Emmanuel will host a tea for a women’s group such as my wife’s Soroptimists. The Banqueting House in London where Charles II was beheaded had been commandeered for a Save the Children fundraiser when we visited, and we did our part. Virtually all open land can be used by permission of the owners, and there are guide books sold for walking paths everywhere. The word pub is short for “public house”; a term that is still almost synonymous with “everybody’s living and dining rooms.”
We have not missed having a car. There are two bus lines within this town of fewer than 100,000. In addition, there are six “park-and-ride” lots at the edges of town. Each of the adjacent counties operates a bus service, as does the national bus system. London is 50 minutes away by train. Need a bicycle? Every college is ringed solid with them.
The English see the relationship between buildings and streets the other way ‘round, too. Here, the building takes precedent: streets go with buildings. Sidgwick Street runs in front of the Sidgwick Center, then changes its name to Silver Street to get over the river, and then to Pembroke Street in front of Pembroke College, and on to Downing Street in front of that college (all this in fewer than 1,000 meters). In a row of houses, some will have street numbers, others will have names. The only streets that are reasonably straight date back to the Roman times. The size of the street is signaled by its name: Roads can be driven on, streets usually, lanes would be one-way, closes are as advertised, so are paths, and a mews, if you could get a car into it at all, can only be exited by backing up.
The River Cam can be described in similar terms. It is only about twelve miles long. Beginning within the precincts of the university and south to its source, the river is often called the Granta: not far past the boat houses to the north, the Cam flows into and takes the name of River Great Ouse.