Juliet England: The ‘Not a Problem’ problem

The mortgage ‘consultant’ (from my current lender) had already done her best to wind me up in a string of increasingly tense email exchanges.

There were the numerous typos, the confusing language and gems such as “I hope this email receives you well” – I’ve never been received by an email in my life – and “I’m passionate about making sure that any members to which I meet with are full (sic) safeguarded.” (“She’s trying to flog you insurance,” one friend remarked drily.)

Cassandra (let’s call her that) also said that she knew “I was flat out with work commitments”, evidently having a greater knowledge of my generally workshy workload than I do myself, despite knowing no more about me than what the Big Building Society’s computer could tell her.

Gritting my teeth and nobly swatting away the various irritations, I explained that I’d have to meet face-to-face, as my cloth ears couldn’t cope with a phone conversation.

Then she dropped the ‘not a problem’ bomb, replying that my hearing was “not an issue”.

My reply?  “I don’t want to come over all militant deaf but why would it be an issue if I can’t hear?”

Now, to be fair, Cassandra sounded mortified when she replied, and was really only following what seems to be a trend. You only have to step into PC World and say you want a new laptop for the sales assistant to trill “Not a problem!” (Surely it would be more of a problem if people didn’t come into the store looking to upgrade their computers?)

But I’ve found this response particularly prevalent when I’ve mentioned it in relation to my hearing loss. The main reason I find ‘not a problem’ exactly that is because there is absolutely no reason why it should be an issue.

I am one of many millions of people who can’t hear well, after all, and it really won’t be a big deal, and I will be fine, if you just speak a bit more slowly and clearly. I am hard of hearing, not stupid. So why not just say “OK” to show you understand I have a hearing loss?

This has happened so often and in so many places, in person and by email, that I’ve started asking people for their specific reasons as to what could be problematic for them, or indeed anyone else. It’s not a problem for me, I want to say, I’m terribly sorry, is it a problem for you? Or are you merely creating a problem where none needs to exist?

It seems I am not alone in my frustration. I put out a call on (where else?) Facebook about this. Vicky McDermott, who is hard of hearing and from Manchester, responded: “It takes courage and confidence to say ‘I’m sorry, I can’t actually hear you.’ I know ‘It’s not a problem’ really means ‘Oh… erm…I don’t know what to say about that…’ I think, don’t say anything. Just let me see your lips while you speak – otherwise you’re wasting both our time.”

Meanwhile a Rosalie Elston said: “I find it highly annoying, especially when you ask them to repeat themselves and you find most times they tend to pull a face or roll their eyes and mutter under their breath that it doesn’t matter! Or the over-exaggerated hand gestures…”

Not that everyone agreed with me.

Martin Rowe said: “I think you’re attacking the wrong target here. The fact is that in many circumstances it can be a problem to interact with hearing people, especially if they are unaware of our disability. So this is why you tell them of your deafness. Now they are aware, they are politely letting us know that they will make an extra effort to ensure that it won’t be a problem. Please don’t criticise them for that!

“A bigger issue is when we ask someone to repeat something, and they cannot be bothered so they say ‘Never mind, it wasn’t important’.”

One David Yarnell even went as far as to say: “So if someone says it’s not a problem you get annoyed? Excuse me while I play the smallest violin in the world!”

But I was genuinely pleased that not everyone agreed with me. Not a problem.

Read more of Juliet’s articles for us here. Juliet England does freelance social media and PR work for cSeeker.