Recently I was listening to Lieutenant-General Tyrone Urch, the army’s Commander Home Command, being interviewed by Martha Kearney on Today. I cannot remember what he was talking about, because I had become quite agitated by the officer’s insistence on using Ms Kearney’s name in every response: ‘Good morning, Martha… It absolutely is, Martha… The things the military is able to do, Martha… I’m no biochemist, Martha…’ On and on it went, this patronising and repeated use of the interviewer’s name.
But what rankled more than the repetition was that Lieutenant-General Urch was using Ms Kearney’s first name. Did Ms Kearney tell Lieutenant-General Urch that it was all right for him to use ‘Martha’? No chance. How would the mighty Commander Home Command have felt if Ms Kearney had insisted on using his first name?
Sadly, it is not unusual these days for someone like Tyrone to use a person’s first name without permission. Using surnames is regarded as antiquated and far too deferential for our egalitarian times. From medical professionals to schoolteachers to salesmen, people now feel the need to address one another by first names. It is as if calling someone by their surname risks an impression of arch formality, and insisting on being referred to by one’s surname feels like pomposity. In the workplace and the legislature, even in hospitals and schools, the surname is as outmoded as wearing a tie or smoking a pipe. In fact, you are only likely to hear your surname in the more traditional quarters of the hospitality and retail industries, or in court. In effect, the surname, as a spoken form of address, is all but dead.
Unlike Tyrone, I always do my best to address people by their surnames. When I interview the elderly (which, since I am a historian, is often), I make sure to do so.

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