Who gets waved through

At the entrance of an office tower in Jeddah, two men arrive within a minute of each other.

The first wears a crisp white robe and a good watch, and carries nothing. The receptionist smiles, says good morning and points him to the lifts. The second wears a cap and a polo shirt with a logo on it, and carries a parcel for someone on the eleventh floor. He is asked to wait, then to show his identity card, then to stand to one side while a phone call is made.

Neither man has done anything. One was trusted before he had said a word. The other had to earn back something he never lost.

Nobody at that desk decided to be unkind. The habit was there long before she was. It shows up in how a shop greets the customer who arrives in the big car, how a clinic speaks to the patient with the expected accent, how a call centre softens for one surname and hurries another. These patterns feel like the way things simply are, so nobody checks them. More of them are being looked at now than ever before, and plenty do not survive the look.

The strange thing is that respect is not scarce. Greeting the second man the way the first was greeted costs the building nothing. It does not make the first man any less welcome. It does not slow down the lifts. Widening the circle takes nothing from anyone already standing inside it.

So the fix is not a sign on the wall. It is a starting point. Begin every exchange from the dignity the person in front of you is owed, because they are owed it, and let the rare exception prove itself, rather than the other way round.