I’m told a friend shot his parrot the other day. Shame, it was a beautiful bird. A neighbour said the parrot had learned a lot of obscene language which it spouted every time anyone came into the house. Finally, the Mayor and his wife paid a courtesy visit and the bird had insulted her with words she didn’t really understand. She knew roughly what they meant, however, and it wasn’t nice. So my friend shot the parrot.
Just as well we don’t shoot presidents who use foul language isn’t it? Come to think of it … but no, NO, the world is a rough enough place already, without that. Also, you and I understand that the repeated use of “f” words is purely habitual addiction and people using them don’t really mean it. It puzzles us why they have to, all the same. Truth is, when you’ve watched enough Netflix garbage you learn to obliterate the worst words from your hearing.
It’s different at work, and hopefully at home, too. When the boss says ‘jump’ you know the learnt question: “How high?”. That is, if you have a lousy boss who thinks his title is the equivalent of a nimby nuclear. When good bosses say ‘jump’ they often mean “please show me a little deference, I’m feeling very insecure”. And what’s a ”Yes, Ma’am” between friends?
But there are serious messages to be transmitted and received. Misinterpretations of them can be fatal. Different languages and styles already present complicated hazards and failure to grasp what an antagonist wants and why he wants it often leads to war. The fact that the war is likely to be only about personal face, makes it even more bizarre. It is why confidence is so desperately important. The world lacks confidence right now.
It’s one of the reasons we hear so much bad language. People think grubby words make them seem more macho, a kind of John Wayne “whupping your ass” authority that entitles them to swagger a bit more. I once had a boss who kept a picture of himself and John Wayne on his desk, facing him. When I examined it closely I was disappointed to see that Wayne wasn’t actually strangling my boss. Life doesn’t deliver everything.
We are at an interesting stage of learning that if you can’t read you can’t engage. I’m talking about reading other people, not reading words on a page. So many bad messages are sent because we under- or over-estimate what someone else can comprehend. Flipping through thoughtful articles or getting AI to summarise them isn’t helping. Sloppy reading gives rise to sloppy writing which, in turn, gives rise to not being able to understand what is being said.
To listen you must pay attention, look, understand the signals – even guess some of them. There isn’t a prescription for it but insatiable interest in other people and their needs is a good starting point. It can be learnt and the journey to doing so is one of the most enjoyable you can make.
In fairness I think I must offer Sir Keir Starmer a reduced-price programme as the world economy is teething a bit. And obviously I must offer Sir Olly Robbins a free course since he is out of a job. When they’ve both completed, they will be able to talk.
Again.
Good morning
John Bittleston
Please embellish my frivolous-serious thoughts above at [email protected].
26 April 2026
