During a lunchtime meeting, I am reminded of a bugbear of mine: colleagues uttering profanities in ordinary conversation. While some would say it’s a sign that they’re comfortable with me, I find it unprofessional and unbefitting of our duties. Being attentive to what comes out of our mouthes says a lot about us. There’s no excuse for it, really.
But here, of course, I’m just confirming that I’m the son of a priest and, well, another priest (and former solicitor), raised in an environment in which good manners were emphasised as half of good character. I’ll never get used to the language of the gutter in polite company. I guess I’m from another world, just like Paddington Bear.
Last modified: 22 September 2024
