The 39 Steps to Being a Gentleman: Taking Apart the Ridiculous 'Country Life' Article Everyone's Getting Mad About

A couple of days ago, Country Life magazine—a publication you'll find next to the shitter in large houses, and which mainly features pictures of nice dogs—published a list of what it called "39 Steps to Being a (Modern) Gentleman." Needless to say, some of those steps were, frankly, fucking stupid.

In fact, the whole idea of being a "gentleman" feels incredibly outdated and faintly sexist, still laced with privilege and prejudice. The word itself was co-opted by men's magazines long ago to sell wax jackets to people with no chin and two surnames. So yeah: gentlemen are bad; aspirational gentlemen are probably somehow worse.

Because no one has precious seconds of their life to waste looking at all 39 of these tips, I've selected the ten most ridiculous steps for some in depth analysis.

Let's get the worst—and my also my favorite—out of the way first. Because, what does this even mean? Why would a gentleman not go to Puerto Rico? Why, specifically, not Puerto Rico, when there's no mention of places like Saudi Arabia, North Korea, or Wales? The only possible answer is simply: pathetic snobbery, mixed with a fear of drinking water that might give you the shits. A good start.

Just let that sink in for a second. This person—nay, this gentleman—is not only required to have the brain aneurysm necessary to make him think that a single item of tweed clothing is a good idea, but that a matching set would be even better. A whole fucking suit of tweed. Who stands in front of a mirror in tweed trousers, tweed waistcoat (I'm assuming it's a three piece, because if you're going to do this you may as well go the full cock), and tweed jacket, and thinks, Yep? If you own a tweed suit, you may well qualify as a gentleman, but rest assured that no one will ever touch your penis again.

"Oh, you must meet Tim, he's great. Sarah, this is Tim."

"Hi Tim, lovely to meet you. How do you do?"

"Tim."

This may actually be one that I can tick off, because if there's one thing I've never been accused of it's wearing my learning "heavily." But let's not dwell on that. This step—like many of them—could be neatly translated as: "Don't be a cunt." If you have to think, even for one second, about wearing your "learning lightly," then I'm afraid it's already too late. You're immediately a cunt. The very act of thinking the words "wearing," "learning," and "lightly" into a coherent sentence makes you one.

They've done away with the implicit classism for this one and just thought, Fuck it, this'll shut the plebs right up. If you're not rich and posh or know lots of rich and posh people, you can't qualify for this club. I like the way it has "in a shooting field" tacked on at the end as if that's the only place you can tip a gamekeeper. Do not tip your gamekeeper if you happen upon him in one of those awful poor people pubs he goes to. Do not tip your gamekeeper if you see him in a shed, or on a long driveway. Gamekeepers must be handed crumpled money in their natural habitat, a field, lest they get ideas above their station.

What does being "good" with waiters involve? Not stabbing them with a fork is presumably one thing it involves. Not writing verses from the book of Revelation in your own shit on the menu is probably another. They should be more specific, is what I'm driving at. Country Life, please, the end is drawing near and I must know one thing before I perish: does telling a maître d' "oxygen and water is wasted on you" count as being good with waiters or not?

"I saw you singing in church today."

"Yes, I love 'All Things Bri—'"

"You weren't very lusty, though, were you?"

"I– I wasn't lusty?"

"No, you weren't lusty. You weren't singing lustily."

"Why do you keep saying the word 'lusty'? Actually, who are you? Is this even a fucking church?"

Vegetarians can't be gentlemen, sorry. They just can't. Their sissy unconditional love and affection for all living creatures has no place among gentlemen. Now, fuck off back to Taunton and buy another pair of harem pants.

If Jesus was alive today, would he or would he not blow dry his hair? He would; it was really long and waiting for that to dry would be boring. What if Jesus had a really important meeting with the marketing manager at 9AM, but at 8AM he discovered his hair smelt like a sewer so had to wash it? To be a gentleman, Country Life is saying, he—and when I say "he," bear in mind I'm talking about the actual magic Christ—absolutely must not blow dry his hair? That's just not credible.

I'm assuming they mean "not jizzing all over someone's face and then celebrating the fact that you've jizzed before the other person's had a chance to get their socks off." Quite sensible, actually. But the very fact this is included at all suggests it's not self evident. Has everyone else been celebrating like Gazza after they jizz? Why did I not know this? Is this what people mean when they say, "Porn doesn't provide an accurate picture of what sex is really like"?

The editor of Country Life said: "There is no higher accolade than to call a man a gentleman." But what about "a nice person" or even "not a dick"? When being a gentleman involves snobbery, prejudice, and tweed suits, then surely "not a dick" is a far greater accolade than being called a gentleman.

Sadly, I have no idea how to be that, either. So if Country Life could do another 39-point list next month it would be much appreciated.

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