The Decline of Manners: Why “Thank You” Still Matters

As I walked toward the bathroom, she’d yell, “Don’t forget to wash your hands!”

It often felt like my grandmother’s purpose in life was making sure her grandchildren didn’t leave any evidence behind after using the bathroom. My brothers—six and nine years younger—learned how to beat the system. They’d yell, “Yes, Nana, we washed our hands!” and bolt back outside before she could check.

Of course, they hadn’t. Handwashing would’ve slowed down the important business of being little boys. But Nana, the hygiene detective, caught on fast. She started grabbing them – before they hit the screen door – and smelling their hands. Not only could she tell if they’d washed, she knew whether they’d soaped up properly.

I secretly figured that was the real reason soapmakers added fragrance—to help grandmothers verify the truth.

Those simple niceties were her version of social soap. They washed off the grime that builds up between people just trying to live together in the world.

Somewhere along the way, though, it feels like the habit faded.

We live in a time when it seems perfectly fine to say whatever you want, whenever you want, to whomever you don’t like. We bulldoze, defend, and demand instead of pausing to understand.

And no, it didn’t start with the current administration (though it sure has poured gas on the fire). The decline started long before that. I used to think it began with the Kardashians—but after digging deeper, it probably goes back even further, to when we started calling televised arguments “reality.”

Reality TV, the kind that made shouting a sport, has spent decades teaching us that being rude makes you famous. On-screen drama became entertainment, and off-screen courtesy became quaint. Studies even show that people who watch aggressive reality shows tend to behave more aggressively in real life.

So it’s no surprise that the effortless please and thank you have all but vanished.

A UCLA study found that adults say “please” in only about seven percent of requests. Seven percent! No wonder it feels rare when someone pauses long enough to acknowledge kindness.

I’ve thought about that a lot lately—especially since my wedding almost two years ago.

We rented a house in Mexico for a week so our four kids and their partners could join us. I spent months planning, organizing, and my husband and I paid for everything: the meals, the activities, the details that made it special. And when it was all over—nothing. Most didn’t even bother to say “thank you.”

I told myself it didn’t matter. But it did. It always does.

Because thank you isn’t just a nicety—it’s feedback.

In behavioral science, we know that what gets rewarded gets repeated. Gratitude is reinforcement. It tells the giver their effort mattered. It’s the feedback loop that keeps generosity alive. And when that loop breaks, something inside us quietly shuts down.

No thanks? No repeats.

That realization hit me hard. I didn’t need a parade or even a note. I just needed acknowledgment—that tiny spark that says, I see what you did for us, and it mattered.

Maybe that’s what we’re really missing these days: acknowledgment.

“Please” and “thank you” aren’t old-fashioned—they’re micro-moments of connection. They say I see you. You’re not invisible. They’re the smallest social courtesies with the biggest ripple effect.

Maybe gratitude is rebellion now. Maybe the quiet act of pausing, looking someone in the eye, and saying thank you is the new radical.

Maybe “thank you” works like washing your hands. It’s not about being proper — it’s about respect: for yourself, and for others… including the doorknob.