Life in Europe is different than in America, that is easy to see and feel. But how? It is not so simple to say exactly how German society is different. A short visit back to the United States has helped me see one important difference: Things are bigger in the United States.

American cars are bigger. Perhaps it would be exaggerated to contrast the Hummer with the Smart car, a European two-seater that can park perpendicular to the curb and still not stick out into the street. American style SUVs have begun to appear on German streets. But they appear out of place among the far smaller cars. The American fascination with large trucks, long luxury cars and top-heavy SUVs is unique in the world. Europeans favor smaller cars with better gas mileage.

Size is the major difference between retail shopping in the U.S. and in Germany.

Germans tend to shop in small, specialized stores, going from the butcher to the bakery to the clothier. Department stores, which originated here in Berlin in the late 19th century, have coexisted with tiny stores for a century without putting them out of business. There is nothing like Wal-Mart. Large discount chains have developed in food and electronics, and malls are being built on the outskirts of cities. IKEA, the furniture giant, has 30 stores in Germany, more than in the U.S.

Burger King and McDonald’s sell hamburgers in Hamburg and in every other German city. But the proportion of consumer goods bought at nationwide or international chains here is tiny compared with the U.S.

I have not yet figured out how the many small shops in Berlin manage to survive. In place of the convenience of one-stop shopping, they sell high quality products, provide informed advice and service, and offer a broad range of choice to the consumer. Two wine stores on the same street, cafs next to one another, fresh fruit and vegetable stands on every corner, seem to subsist peacefully. Nobody expands, but everyone makes a living.

Although the per capita income in Germany is nearly the same as in the U.S., the incomes of the richest Germans are not nearly as large as those of the American super-rich. In sports, media or big business, the distance between average incomes and the earnings of the “stars” is much smaller than in the U.S. There is a skepticism, even distrust, of those who earn millions, rather than the envy that seems to motivate Americans to outdo their neighbors.

This preference for equality is not a residue of East German communism, but a broader legacy of European working-class ideology.

Perhaps it is not too big a leap to say also that the German national ego is smaller than the American. Current American national politics is based on the long-standing sense of ourselves as a superpower, the world’s moral policeman, whose business is everywhere and whose ideas ought to be followed by everyone.

Certainly, the Germans experimented with outsized national egotism under the Nazis, claiming that they were racially, intellectually and morally superior to other human societies. Trying to put this in effect through military adventurism led inevitably to defeat and destruction.

Since 1945, Germans have been self-consciously modest in their relations with other nations. They avoid any appearance of superiority and try always to operate in conjunction with other countries. They are comfortable within the European Union, where no nation can raise itself over its neighbors.

The emotional attractions of outsized ego are obvious. American politicians compete for votes by larger and larger claims for the greatness of America.

Anyone who suggests that anything might be better in other countries is automatically labeled anti-American. It seems comforting to know that we in the U.S. have nothing to learn from the rest of the world, who need only follow our example to solve their problems.

Not so obvious are the values of modesty. Many people have argued cogently against greater size. Since 1973, E.F. Schumacher’s “Small is Beautiful” has maintained a consistent appeal, and the slogan “Think globally, buy locally” expresses similar sentiments. If we wish to learn modesty, we need not lean on foreign examples.

Not everybody in the U.S. supports the bigger-is-better philosophy. But at the moment the super-sizers appear to have the upper hand.

Steve Hochstadt lives in Lewiston and teaches history at Bates College. He is temporarily teaching in Germany and can be reached at [email protected].