Category: Uncategorized

  • Silence

    Silence isn’t always agreement—sometimes it’s self-exclusion caused by discrimination.

    When I was eight and started a new school mid-term, I wasn’t placed with a group of girls where I might have found friends. Instead, I was seated at a two-person table with the “naughty boy” who taunted me daily. I never complained. I simply withdrew—stopped joining in, stopped socialising, didn’t speak to anyone, even at break times. I self-excluded as a way of coping with the sadness and isolation.

    As a discrimination lawyer, I’ve seen how common this response is—especially among women. Not all forms of discrimination provoke protests or public campaigns. Sometimes the response is quiet disappearance.

    When Hampstead Ponds ceased to offer single-sex swimming, I heard how some Orthodox Jewish women simply stopped attending. Their needs weren’t addressed in the wider discourse about “rights”.

    We saw it again when media coverage highlighted the prospect of male radiographers conducting routine mammograms. The Society of Radiographers noted a spike in appointment cancellations. Not a protest—just silence. Just absence.

    This presents a challenge for policymakers and public service providers: how do you account for those who quietly opt out?

    By monitoring who uses your service—and who doesn’t.
    Compare your users to the demographic profile of your community. Identify the gaps. Proactively consult with those who may feel unable to access your service, not just those who speak loudest.

    Silence can be a signal. One we ignore at our peril.