Lost in transation
After almost five years on the Isle of Man, I've come to realise that one of the biggest cultural differences between the Dutch and the British isn't food or the weather: It's directness, or rather, the British fear of it.
In the Netherlands, being direct is a form of politeness. Wasting someone's time is close to the worst thing you can do to them, being late, dragging out a decision, saying ten words where two would do, all of it lands as a kind of disrespect. So we cut to it. We say what we mean, and we mean what we say, because we think that's what actually respects the other person's time. It's not meant to hurt. It's meant to help. Like telling someone after their haircut, "That was a waste of money." Not because we're mean, but because we think saying it straight is more helpful than false flattery, and because false flattery, to a Dutch ear, is really just another way of wasting someone's time.
But here, directness can be seen as unpolished, abrasive, or even rude.
I once told someone in a meeting, "I don't agree, and here's why." You'd think I had slapped their cat and insulted the King.
Meanwhile, British politeness is a thing of beauty. Subtle, elegant, and often completely indecipherable.
"I'm not sure that's quite what we're looking for" might mean "Absolutely not, and never suggest that again."
"I might have a few notes" might mean "This is a disaster."
And "Interesting idea" can go either way.
It gets even trickier in professional settings… So after a speech I gave at the GreenTech Forum here on the Isle of Man, I received a kind message on LinkedIn: "Would you like to meet for lunch sometime?"
So I asked, genuinely and plainly, "Why?"
Silence for a few days. Then came the reply, "I run a marketing agency for green tech companies."
I responded, "I'm not interested, thank you."
To me, that's polite. Clear. Respectful of both our time. To him? Possibly a personal attack. I half expected a reply saying, "That was rather direct." Or the classic fallback, "Right. Well. All the best then."
Underneath the joke, though, there's something I've actually had to sit with. Every direct thing I've ever said was meant as a gift, here's the truth, take it and save yourself the guessing, save yourself the wasted hour. It never occurred to me the gift could land as a slap instead, wrapped wrong for the person receiving it. That took a while to actually hear.
But I'm learning. Slowly, and with the occasional cat-slapping relapse.
Last week I said, "Perhaps we could revisit this idea later" instead of, "This makes no sense."
Progress, right? Small, British-sized progress, the kind that comes with its own tea and biscuit.
Because in the end, politeness matters to both of us.
For me, it's about respecting someone's time enough to say things plainly. For the Brits, it's about being kind so no one feels hurt. Different methods, same goal, just very different wrapping paper.
