When I was in London last month, I got into an interesting exchange with a British communicator.

The topic was interactive management columns—those places on the intranet where employees can go to submit questions to senior leaders, who answer them and post the questions and answers where everybody can see them.

I was talking about these programs, and showing some good examples of how well they work, when a British woman spoke up.

“That would never work in England,” she said. “Here, employees are too cynical, and they would only use the forum to bitch and moan about everything they see wrong with the company.”

Now, I’ve heard that same fear voiced in the States, too. And I’ve heard horror stories from communicators who break their asses to set something like this up, and then get dozens of questions from employees complaining about stale croutons in the cafeteria salad bar.

But . . . if you run these forums right and keep the discussions focused on business-related topics, eventually people start to use the forum for its intended purpose: as a way to discuss high-level business topics with leaders, and as a way to float your ideas and comments past the layer of management sewage and straight to the top.

And by the way, it’s not that hard to do. You just never let the petty gripes and non-business complaints see the light of day. And you don’t even respond to the people who sent in the complaint. Eventually, fewer and fewer of the non-strategic questions come in, and the forum is established. It may take a couple of months, but it will usually happen.

Well, I said all of this to the British woman, but she was having none of it.

“We’re more cynical than Americans, plain and simple,” she said. “That kind of freewheeling interactivity would never work over here.”

And that got me to thinking: Could she be right? Now, I know the book on the Brits is that they are cynical. I know that, according to the common wisdom, most English people are two parts Basil Fawlty, one part Dorothy Parker, and one part hungover, crabby Winston Churchill.

They are sarcastic and snide, and can cut you quietly seven times before you even realize that you’re bleeding. But are they really more cynical than Americans?

I just find that hard to believe, based on three simple words: The Royal Family.

I mean, how cynical can you be, as a nation, if you are sheep-like enough to put up with The Royal Family?

Have you seen Buckingham Palace, or St. James Palace, or any of the other palaces where these mooches live? Have you seen their lifestyle? How cynical can a country be if they’re willing to put up with that . . . while at the same time you can’t get a pint of beer in a pub for less than eight bucks?

Or think of it this way: Can you imagine Americans putting up with The Royal Family?

To put it in an American perspective, let's take it into the business environment. Let’s pretend that you are applying for a job at a new company. During the initial interview, you ask about leadership at the organization, and you’re told this:

“Well, our CEO is CEO for life. We aren’t allowed to get rid of him. We don’t have a Board of Executives or anything like that. He’s here until he dies. And when he dies, his goofy kid is going to take over, and there’s nothing we can about that, either. But that’s okay, because other than draw a monster salary and live in a huge mansion and fly around the world in private jets, our CEO doesn’t actually do anything. So he can’t hurt us too bad.”

What would the average American worker say to that? But of course it gets worse, doesn’t it? “Oh, and by the way,” the interviewer continues, “you’ll probably hear about the CEO's relatives—sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts and uncles. Uh . . . they’re all on the payroll, too. Big time. They all make a hell of a lot more than you ever will in your entire life.

“But they don’t really do anything either, other than make a spectacle out of themselves in public once in a while, and occasionally have sex with each other. And some of them ride horses, I think. And we trot them out for formal functions, and hope they don’t embarrass us. Oh, and we pay for all their housing and clothes and expense accounts and world travel, too. For all of them. And we’re going to keep doing that forever.”

Can you even imagine? What would be the first question you would ask? Maybe . . . why? What purpose do they serve? Does it have to be this way? The first question I would ask would be: “How do we pay for these people? Doesn’t it wreck havoc on the bottom line?”

And of course they wouldn’t have an answer . . . but you would get one nonetheless, when you visited the corporate cafeteria for the first time, and noticed that a hamburger cost $24, and a bottle of water was $12.

I guess I just don’t buy the whole, “Brits are more cynical than Americans” chestnut. Maybe 30 years ago it was true. Maybe even 20 years ago it was true. But we’ve been Enronned. We’ve been WorldCommed. We had our own version of the Royal Family . . . only our Royalty was a bunch of fat white dudes in suits who thought they had a divine right to cheat employees, lie to investors, and sock away the company crown jewels for their own personal gain.

We let it happen once, but I don’t think we’ll let it happen again. Meanwhile, across the pond, Chuckie and Liz and Andy and Phil go tripping merrily along.

Then again . . . maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s because of the Royal Family that British workers are so cynical. Maybe the fact that the Royal Family exists, and they can’t do anything about it, has turned the English bitter.

And since they can’t voice their concerns to the Queen, they take it out on their employers. And maybe that’s what our communicator friend was getting at: If you set up an interactive forum on an English intranet, all that misplaced bile and bitterness will come pouring out.

It does make sense. I’m fairly sure that if I was breaking my ass on the job every day, and I could barely afford a shepherd's pie and a pint after work, while somebody called the Queen and her incest-ridden family sat on their fat asses in a palace that I was paying for . . . I'd probably show up to work too pissed off to engage in a dialogue with my senior leaders, too.

Still, I’d like to see some English companies try the tactic, just to see how it would turn out.