Public property takes the hit, motorists move on, and the damage stays behind — a quiet symbol of how little people care for shared spaces.
Vandalism is rife.
I saw a recent article in the Daily Mail about ancient rocks in a Utah national park being defaced and vandalised. It’s shocking—sacred and historical places destroyed by people who don’t seem to care.
But here in South Africa, vandalism has almost become a way of life. In the small coastal area where I live, the protective glass above the railway line is smashed regularly. Council fences are destroyed by careless drivers and never repaired. Graffiti covers the walls, the rocks at tidal pools, and even private homes. And strangely, graffiti has become something to celebrate—a kind of cultural rebellion that’s now revered.
If you think this sounds like a complaint, it is. Because this is wrong.
Vandalism, at its core, is a form of disrespect. It’s what happens when politeness, restraint, and consideration are drained from society.
Time Magazine recently ran a story titled “7 Polite Phrases That Are Still Worth Saying.” It reminded readers that simple civility still matters. One example they gave struck me:
“Greetings in some places are so important—like in France, saying ‘Bonjour’ when you walk in a store is crucial,” the article noted. “In America, we walk in and we’re like, ‘Oh, give me a croissant,’ and we don’t say hello first.”
That simple act of greeting—of acknowledging another person—has enormous social power. It’s the glue that holds everyday interactions together.
Politeness still exists in parts of South African life, but too often I’ve noticed how people are wrapped up entirely in themselves. You greet them, and they don’t even respond. Perhaps they’re distracted, perhaps indifferent—but either way, it leaves a mark.
And the same absence of politeness runs through our institutions. I’m currently dealing with a company that hasn’t responded to my request for service for more than a week—five working days of silence. No call. Nothing. This isn’t just bad service; it’s a reflection of poor leadership. Where is the accountability? Where is the simple courtesy of a reply?
Service, after all, is built on politeness. If you can’t help someone, the decent thing to do is to say so: “We’re sorry, we can’t assist you, but here’s another option.” That’s basic civility.
When politeness fades, vandalism—of property, of time, of trust—takes its place.
But the good news is, it doesn’t take much to turn the tide. A smile. A greeting. A quick reply. These tiny courtesies still matter. They rebuild the social fabric—one “hello” at a time.
