Tu vs. Vous
I met my French boyfriend's mother for the first time on a Sunday, over lunch near rue Mouffetard that lasted three hours and involved at least four different kinds of cheese (side note, I fell in love with Caprice des Dieux only to be told it isn’t a ‘real’ French cheese…when will I ever get it right?). His siblings were there, who I’d met the previous December and spent three days tu-ing – we were almost the same age, we were opening Christmas presents together in pajamas, so it felt natural. After greeting them, I turned to his mother with a big American smile, and did what every non-French brain does on autopilot: I tu'd her too.
Everyone at the table must have flinched, but I kept going, totally oblivious. It was a few days later that I was (kindly) chastised: you vous your in-laws. Sometimes forever. We’re skipping a few steps here, but this rule still applies after decades of marriage, after grandchildren, even after your belle-mère has started calling you ma fille. It’s not cold or rude, it’s just the way these relationships are built for centuries.
I felt so stupid. How did I manage to forget that people older than you get an automatic vous? Maybe I slipped back into the pattern of behavior I use with my own family in the US (we’re more casual). Or perhaps I simply wasn’t thinking. Tu vs. vous really trips up even the best of us.
What’s the big deal?
‘Tu’ is the informal way of saying ‘you’ in French, and ‘vous’ is the formal way. Choosing wrong is an unspoken social test.
Using tu incorrectly can come off as disrespectful, like you’re overstepping a boundary, and you risk offending the person you’re addressing. Tu implies closeness, and using it without officially asking can be read as presumptuous. That invitation, ‘passer au tutoiement’, is a real step in French society where one person formally offers to shift from vous to tu. Doing so takes the relationship from a formal to a warmer one, and removes the (symbolic) distance between you.
There’s a whole lot packed into these two little words besides a grammar choice, and what I think is most interesting is what having two forms of ‘you’ says about French culture & etiquette. First, respect is a core value, and using vous is a way to be polite. Second, familiarity & trust are built over time – you need to earn your tu. And third, there is a hard line drawn between acquaintance and friend in France, and tu is proof that you’ve been accepted into someone’s private sphere.
Figuring it out as we go
Let’s face it: the rules for when you use tu vs. vous are messy. Of course, there are some guidelines: vous for strangers, elders, those in positions of authority (ex. your landlord, doctors, the gendarmerie), and anytime you address more than one person; tu for friends and anyone younger than you. But as soon as you step into family, new friend groups, or office territory, you’re figuring it out as you go.
Age, regional differences, hierarchy, and at what age you met someone all matter. And, using vous can sometimes come across as distant when you don’t want it to. Get it wrong and you’ll know it immediately, thanks to pauses that are slightly too long, strange looks, or a growing pit in your stomach.
I now vous my belle-mère without fail. Case closed, right? Wrong, because my non-French brain can’t switch off of ‘formal mode’ once it’s on, so oftentimes mid-conversation, still in vous world, I’ll turn to my boyfriend and vous him too. He thinks this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him – in response, he’ll straighten up and say ‘oui madame’ in the most exaggeratedly formal voice he can manage, and burst out laughing. At this point he might start calling me madame permanently.
Where ‘tu’ and ‘vous’ come from
Around 400 AD, the Romans started addressing the emperor as vos (plural ‘you’), even though he was one person, to acknowledge the importance of the office and his role. By the Middle Ages, people were using vous to speak with the king and nobility, inserting a formal, hierarchical wall between them. Plural-as-respect was here to stay.
After the French Revolution, there was an attempt to abolish vous entirely with the 1793 decree ‘Décret sur le tutoiement obligatoire’. But it didn’t quite stick, as vous reappeared the following year, after the fall of Robespierre, and today the distinction remains a part of everyday life.
With in-laws
Multiple etiquette guides confirm that vous-ing your in-laws, even ones you've known for decades, was long considered de rigueur (i.e. the non-negotiable default) in traditional French families.
In some families, tu is a privilege you're granted. In others, it's one you're never offered. And in others, even if offered, you can’t bring yourself to make the switch.
In the workplace
I walked into my office on rue Montmartre in 2022, tu-d the CEOs of my company upon meeting them in person for the first time, and never looked back. Google it, though, and you’ll be told to vous your professional superiors. No wonder I lose sleep over this.
Traditional industries like finance, law, or the public sector default to vous. But in French startups and tech, the default is tu, and sticking with vous may imply you don't want to be part of the team.
The generally accepted move: start with vous, and let someone more senior ask ‘on peut se tutoyer’? (i.e. ‘can we use tu’?).
Someone please give me a guidebook
I accidentally let a tu slip to my MIL recently, and she said ‘tu peux me tutoyer’ (!!). But…I ignored it. Her other daughter-in-law uses vous with her, and I vous her husband, so it seemed off to tu her. So I kept the vous – and that choice doesn’t read as standoffish at all. I mean it when I say, there’s no rulebook.
So, what do you do? Honestly, observe and adjust as you go, and keep the following in mind:
Use tu with kids, friends, and people around your same age who you kind of know.
Use vous with strangers, elders, those in positions of authority, waiters, the family of your significant other, when interviewing, and for addressing groups.
It’s worse to use tu when someone is expecting vous, so default to vous and switch either when your relationship deepens or when the French person signals it.
If ever in doubt, use vous.
And, accept that you will occasionally get it wrong – just be willing course-correct for the next time. I’ve been speaking French for over 20 years and living here for 4, and I still don’t get it right 100% of the time (P.S., I don’t think the French do either). But this is just a part of the whole arrival experience: nobody lets you in on the nuances, so you just have to learn one awkward lunch at a time (or, by reading this Substack!).
If you’re moving to France and want a real answer to ‘wait, is this rude?’ before you find out the hard way, I’m all ears!
Bisous,
Jaime