I’ve been unusually direct since I was a child – it’s helped me in surprising ways

I really had to laugh this week when a terribly polite-sounding survey from Trinity College London, an English language awarding body, produced a list I didn’t know I needed: the top British phrases most regularly used to avoid social discomfort or confrontation. AKA, what many of us say when we mean the exact opposite.Welcome to the wonderfully awkward UK.

Never has a list been more apposite. Especially as it landed just before Donald Trump’s tariff blizzard, and politicians found themselves with a strong case of British-speak, as they struggled to find a response that wouldn’t worsen their economic outlook.There are some absolute club classics in the list:if(window.



adverts) { window.adverts.addToArray({"pos": "inread-hb-ros-inews"}); }“I hear what you are saying.

” Translation: I really don’t and I am hopping mad.“Sounds fun. I’ll let you know.

” Translation: I will never ever come to said social engagement.“No rush, when you have a minute.” Translation: I want it now.

I particularly love the ones where we really do mean the polar opposite such as “not to worry” – all the person is doing is bricking themselves and fretting all of the time. Seeing these phrases written out in the cold light of day, it’s a hilarious and loveable British trait – but also totally energy-sapping.if(window.

adverts) { window.adverts.addToArray({"pos": "mpu_mobile_l1"}); }if(window.

adverts) { window.adverts.addToArray({"pos": "mpu_tablet_l1"}); }My beloved straight-talking Swedish mother-in-law has had to get used to the madness of her adopted country over 40 years.

But she continues to speak in her direct manner to British people and holds her nerve when they open their mouths in shock as she delivers her actual views, always with kindness, but in a no-nonsense tone.I believe when I met her at age 20, I didn’t find her too direct because I’m northern, and while we are typically friendlier than southerners – we are also more straight-talking. (Though we still have nothing on Swedes.

)I think my Mancunian roots and being an only child who grew up with only two adults and very loquacious imaginary friends for company at home stood me in good stead for what was to become my broadcasting role as an adult. Because of course, children don’t learn to speak in this sort of code. We bellow out whatever we think until we learn shame and social expectations.

In fact, the two most direct conversational zones I exist in are on air at Radio 4, and around my kitchen table with a chatty two year-old and seven year old.Thinking back to when I was a child, there is one episode which displays my tendency for straight talking. Crucially, though my parents were shocked, they didn’t really admonish me for it.

But while I wasn’t shamed into silence, it was quite a moment all the same and we still laugh about it to this day. #color-context-related-article-3085139 {--inews-color-primary: #3759B7;--inews-color-secondary: #EFF2FA;--inews-color-tertiary: #3759B7;} Read Next square EMMA BARNETT I have a secret – and it’s keeping me close to my friendsRead MoreI was eight years old and certainly very curious, but not a rude girl at all. We were on a train on holiday when we happened to bump into a schoolteacher’s friend.

She told a lovely story about their friendship and then, once the tale was done, appeared to be starting the whole conversation all over again.Genuinely perturbed – and already developing a low tolerance for repetition – I interjected: “But we’ve heard that story before?” She stopped, and briefly, so did the world. My parents were dumbfounded but I couldn’t understand my faux-pas.

I know now we were expected to simply allow her to tell the whole story again, as it was too awkward to tell her we didn’t need her to. Yet I had, and something had broken.if(window.

adverts) { window.adverts.addToArray({"pos": "mpu_mobile_l2"}); }if(window.

adverts) { window.adverts.addToArray({"pos": "mpu_tablet_l2"}); }Afterwards, when were alone and my parents had stopped their shocked laughter, I was left feeling confused: I had stopped a poor conversation and that woman wasting her time and ours.

.. and yet I had done the wrong thing.

But was my comment that bad? I remain conflicted 32 years later – I was very polite in my delivery.Live broadcasting to a tight time schedule means such quandaries are never a thing. You have to get straight to it, dispensing with any questions or comments that might provoke confusion or ambiguity.

This week, I had five minutes to interview a wonderful 71-year-old woman who fosters children. Straight in, you ask why she does it when most people wouldn’t or don’t; then you ask how hard it is; and then what it’s like to say goodbye to these children she ends up loving. And that’s it.

Her answers were refreshing, moving, enlightening – and clear. No one wants things to be that brief in daily life, and nor am I arguing that the rules of hardcore on-air conversation be applied to every day conversations. But surely these sorts of interviews, even on more emotional subjects, prove just how capable we are with straight questions and comments? Perhaps even the most confrontation-adverse could take more of a risk more regularly and say what they really think, saving vital energy, worry and time.

What is so striking about the publishing of this list of polite-isms is how incredibly at odds it is with the online era we also live in.It’s heartening in real life that we don’t talk to each like the feral dogs many people seem capable of being on so-called social media platforms. Can you imagine if online people started saying the exact opposite of what they meant? “I love your opinions and your views are amazing.

Please live for ever!”if(window.adverts) { window.adverts.

addToArray({"pos": "mpu_mobile_l3"}); }if(window.adverts) { window.adverts.

addToArray({"pos": "mpu_tablet_l3"}); }Instead we have: “Could you be any dumber and go die now!”Surely we can harness some of the niceties in real life designed to be the social lubricant that keeps us largely rubbing along well with one another and learn to be more direct when we need to – without resorting to barbaric talk.I favour a healthy mix and, if I may be so bold, prescribe the same to you too. And I promise I am not saying the opposite of what I really think.

Who would do that?This week I have been...

Watching Last One Laughing (Amazon Prime)Who knew it was possible to lock up a load of our finest British comedians in a weird TV lair reminiscent of Big Brother and ban them from laughing. I never thought watching Rob Beckett pout his way into a straight face would be so damn funny. Give it go – you can laugh all you want.

Listening to This Cultural Life with Abi Morgan.John Wilson’s lovely series marches on and the latest is one of my favourite and most deft writers: Abi Morgan. She of The Split, Suffragette, Eric – I could go on.

Her book, This is Not a Pity Memoir, floored me. Hearing her talk is such a treat. Reading An early copy of Lifeblood: A Mother in Search of Hope by Mina Holland.

The food journalist has turned the lens onto herself and written movingly and beautifully about a health condition her daughter is born with that sees her needing regular blood transfusions. It is tender, raw and utterly compulsive reading. It’s out in June.

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