I received an official letter today. I tore it open in trepidation that it was going to be a parking fine or that I’d made some other transgression without knowing. It wasn’t. It was just a routine message about a public consultation. But what made it remarkable was, at the bottom of the page, a sentence that offered, ‘This document is available in large print or Braille, audiotape, easy to read or in another language,’ and a phone number to ring if you needed these. Which is all perfectly laudable until you think about it. If I were unable to read the letter because of a visual impairment or language difficulty, how would I be able to read the message offering me alternatives in the first place?
Which set me thinking of other examples of information that is offered but utterly useless. Take an induction video I was required to watch at an industrial site. Having left my car in their car park, I’d settled down in Reception to concentrate on what I needed to know for my visit. ‘Welcome’, a cheery voice announced. ‘Safety is our priority and here are a few important facts you need to know.’ A big number 1 appeared on the screen, followed by a picture of the car park. ‘When parking your car, make sure you are in a designated space, and that you reverse park.’ Too late. I had already parked and left the car or I wouldn’t be watching their video. They might as well have reminded me to get dressed or make sure I had a good breakfast before I came. Why tell me now?
Of course, useless or ambiguous messages are not new. London’s underground is famous for its signs, ‘Dogs must be carried on the escalator,’ leading many to linger at the top, waiting for the dog they are obliged to hold before being able to make it down to the platform. And I have long wondered how I’m supposed to get on to trains when platforms have a yellow safety line painted on them. Signs and announcements make it clear through a draconian message that you are to ‘Wait behind the yellow line at all times.’ I’ve let many a train leave the station without me on it in fear of crossing the line. I await until I’m sure no one in authority is looking before stepping over the line to get on board, expediting at any time to be arrested for contravention of the instructions.
I’m also intrigued how the platform announcer can say, ‘We are sorry to announce that the 10.55 service to Manchester Airport is delayed by approximately 50 minutes,’ (or however long is too long for you to be able to catch your plane). He or she must have recorded that message many years ago and quite how this apology can ring true after all this time is beyond me. Did the announcer believe it when he or she said it, anticipating the very train and duration of the delay? Or might it just be just corporate codswallop trying to mollify my frustration? And who are the ‘we’? The announcer and the studio recordist, who doubtless had a commercial for cosmetics or soap powder to record next?
Perhaps I’m too harsh. Maybe I should give credit that organisations are anticipating my likely frustrations if things go awry and that their actions are merely thinking of the worst case scenario and so have thoughtfully prepared an early warning message (albeit in the case of the car parking, late warning). Or maybe they are preparing their defence in advance, for any likely litigation.
I was softening until I remembered this sign I saw by the coast (in Northern Ireland).
Are people so ignorant that they need to be warned that they may get wet if they stand close to the sea. And what do-gooder thought it a good idea to warn people?
I despair.
What next? Signs on a garden gate: Beware of the dog – may bark. Or on a restaurant table: warning – knives are sharp and may cut.
I’ve made up my own, but I’m on the lookout for more examples of needless or mindless safety warnings.
