The guidelines have been updated – please ensure you do the same. A brief list of the new best practices

Is it possible to survive the present without becoming unbearable? Is there a guide, a list of dos and don’ts, a circular, or a blacklist for boors with unacceptable behaviour? The Guardian has published a guide to etiquette featuring a catalogue of new forms of rudeness, but many are sorely missing, so we’ll compile our own list.

Never ask: “Do you regret not having children?”. Not even in variations with a sugar coating – the subject of children: avoid entirely. Do not ask if they want them, if they don’t want them, what their reasons were if they don’t, how they cope without them, how they cope with them, whether the children they do have are doing well at school, or what marks they get. Above all, with regard to newborns, do not ask whether they are being fed by human or plastic means. If they’re teenagers, don’t ask their names. Don’t ask anything at all. At formal dinners, don’t ask about dietary requirements. Vegans, vegetarians, seed-eaters: it doesn’t matter. Don’t stare at their plates. If they turn up as weekend guests with their ointments, jars of overcooked Asian plums and Tupperware containers of white jellies, let them put them in the fridge and remain impassive. If they proclaim themselves to be ‘Poldo’s mum and dad’ – Poldo being a Labrador – play it cool and say he’s lovely. When it comes to dogs, however, questions – does he eat well, is he cheerful, does he have friends, is he clever, does he go to doggy day care, what does he like doing? – will be very welcome indeed.

Never, under any circumstances, reply with just ‘ok’. ‘Ok’ is enthusiasm in reverse; it’s dismissive; it’s a way of saying you don’t have time. In some cases, it’s passive-aggressive, especially in emails. If you are unable to respond thoughtfully and politely, use AI to assist you.

Avoid using AI to reply to people who are important to us. We’ll notice; we’re not daft. It’s not as if well-known, qualified writers suddenly all start writing like the Lord Chamberlain.

Voice messages. When the sender and recipient have a long-standing friendship, it’s acceptable to send them. In other cases, avoid doing so: who are you, anyway? Why do you expect me to give you my time for free? If you really need to express yourself verbally, write to ask permission to send a voice message.

Spontaneous phone calls have been a thing of the past since 2009. A phone call is the new scheduled meeting. You will send a message first to check whether it is appropriate to call at a certain time.

Call and, if there’s no answer, call back immediately. Being that sort of person – with rumours confirmed and doing the rounds – is worse than a notice of investigation. Phone calls are only for major events: earthquakes, hospital admissions, or lovers being caught out.

People do not inquire about the specific neighbourhood you live in, especially if you reside in Rome, Milan, or other major cities. Requesting such information is akin to asking for a copy of someone’s bank statement, an action that some might consider hypocritically classist.

Writing “How are you?” after a year of not being in touch, followed by a request for a favour. Yes, the need for a favour can arise in life, but favours need to be nurtured; you need a semblance of friendship that has a certain continuity.

The pretence of friendship. Those relationships driven by self-interest, where one of the two sends a bland message once a week – but why this waste of chat that nobody wants to read?

Split what would otherwise be a single sentence into 4 or 5 lines of chat, with the annoyance of multiple notifications – perhaps we were waiting for a better message than yours.

Listening to videos without headphones. Even on the train.

Put your phone on the table with the screen facing upwards, and every time it lights up, look at it eagerly. It means that even a newsletter is more important than me, sitting right there in front of it.

Turn your phone upside down, with the screen facing downwards. Then you’ll have another red flag – something to hide.

Expecting an immediate reply because the box is ticked twice.

And you, who don’t reply after four hours – who do you think you are? Obama?

Publish other people’s events before anyone else does, despite the embargo: the bride, for example, must be the first to post.

Saying “We absolutely must meet up” instead of the truth – that you’re perfectly comfortable on the sofa and there’s absolutely no need to see anyone at all, especially in this heat.