Liberty, equality… the same words don’t mean the same thing

On July 4, Americans celebrate liberty. On July 14, the French do the same. Yet if you sat an American, a French person, a Japanese person, and a Swede around the same table and asked them what it means to “be free,” you would get four radically different answers.

This is not a matter of translation. It is a matter of culture.

Some words seem universal (liberty, equality, respect, work, family, and so on) but cover profoundly different realities depending on where someone grew up. In intercultural terms, these are known as cultural false friends: values that appear to be shared, but are experienced in incompatible ways.

And this is precisely where the most persistent misunderstandings arise: not in what is said, but in what we think we understood.

1. Liberty: individual or collective?

In France, liberty is often defined against something: against oppression, against the arbitrary exercise of power. It is assertive, hard-won, sometimes loud. This is the legacy of 1789.

In the United States, liberty is defined for something: for enterprise, for success, for freedom from government interference. It is individual, almost sacred. Infringing on this liberty, even in the name of the common good, is perceived as an attack.

This Franco-American lens on liberty and equality is particularly illuminating: two countries that share the same founding words, yet give them radically different meanings.

In Japan, individual liberty exists, but it is constantly negotiated against the group. Breaking away from social norms is not liberating: it is often experienced as a painful rupture.

Liberty in practice at the office

An American manager who gives a French team member autonomy believes they are showing trust. The French team member may instead see disengagement, even abandonment. Same stated value, opposite experiences.

2. Equality: opportunity or outcome?

This is one of the most powerful, and most divisive, false friends today.

American culture values equality of opportunity: everyone starts from the same point (in theory), and merit makes the difference. Unequal outcomes are acceptable, even normal, proof that some people made better use of their chance.

French culture has historically been more attached to equality of treatment: everyone should be treated the same, regardless of outcome. This is why French-style meritocracy runs through competitive exams and diplomas, a universal, impartial filter.

Nordic countries take this even further, toward equality of well-being: outcome inequalities must stay limited for social cohesion to be real.

As Katja Ingman, an intercultural expert, points out, Nordic countries go even further, aspiring to equality of well-being: income gaps, although growing, remain reasonable there, and the region shows particularly high levels of well-being and happiness.

In Finnish, equality is tasa-arvo (“equal worth”), and the welfare state is hyvinvointivaltio (“well-being state”): the idea is to give everyone the conditions for good emotional and physical health, within a system where everyone contributes and everyone benefits. Examples abound, from often progressive taxation, to the “Finnish baby box”​​​​​​​, designed to let every newborn, whatever their parents’ social background, start life with a quality layette, to the Swedish concept of lagom (not too much, not too little, but just the right amount).

Equality in practice at the office

Introducing a variable pay policy in a multicultural team? Be prepared for deep misunderstandings, not about the numbers, but about what they say regarding your company’s values.

3. Respect: form or substance?

Everyone says they want to be respected. But what does respect actually look like?

In Germany or the Netherlands, respecting someone means telling them the truth directly. Lying to them out of politeness would be a form of condescension. Researcher Erin Meyer, in her negative feedback scale, places Dutch and Russian cultures among the most direct, where criticism is delivered unfiltered, without being softened by positive messages.

In South Korea or Mexico, respecting someone means preserving their face, never putting them on the spot publicly, and wrapping the message in careful form. In Japan, this reflex is even more pronounced: criticism delivered in public, even minor criticism, can be experienced as a humiliation, whereas an American will typically soften it with hedging phrases (downgraders like kind of or a little bit) without leaving it unsaid.

In France, it is a strange mix of the two: debate is candid, ideas are openly criticized, but criticizing the person remains a serious misstep. Respect there rests as much on the quality of the argument as on the manner of disagreement: you can demolish an idea, as long as you do it elegantly.

Respect in practice at the office

Direct feedback from a Dutch colleague can be experienced as an attack by a Mexican team member. The same feedback, seen as honest and respectful by one, is read as disrespectful by the other. Neither is wrong. Both are right within their own frame of reference.

4. Work: calling or obligation?

“Work matters.” Who would disagree? And yet.

For an American, work is often an extension of identity: “What do you do?” is one of the first questions people ask. Working hard is a point of pride.

For a French person, working too much is suspect, implying they have no life outside work. The right to disconnect, enshrined in the French Labor Code by the law of August 8, 2016, is regarded as a social achievement.

For a German, working efficiently is a value in itself, but within the time allotted. Unnecessary overtime is out of the question. In fact, OECD data consistently confirm that Germany ranks among the countries with the lowest number of hours worked per worker, despite having one of Europe’s most productive economies. Beyond the figures, the perception gap between the French and the Germans mainly comes down to staggered schedules and a different relationship to hierarchical presence: while the French stay late out of a sense of perceived commitment, Germans leave on time out of contractual discipline, each judging the other against their own frame of reference.

For a Japanese person, being present at the office carries social value independent of actual productivity.

Work in practice at the office

Replying to an email on a Sunday can be a sign of commitment for some, an intrusion for others, and an anxiety-inducing implicit expectation for others still.

The real intercultural skill

Recognizing cultural false friends does not mean treating all values as relative. It means refusing the naive belief that a shared word guarantees shared understanding.

This is where intercultural competence begins: in the ability to suspend your own certainty, to recognize that the other person has not misunderstood. They understood something different, with a logic just as coherent as your own.

On July 4, when Americans celebrate liberty, they are not necessarily celebrating the same thing you are. And that is exactly what makes intercultural dialogue both necessary and fascinating.