“When ethics and real life collide: Decisions interpreters face daily.”
Being an interpreter isn’t just about conveying signs accurately—it’s about making constant ethical decisions, often in real-time. From the first assignment as a trainee to years of professional practice, I’ve learned that ethical choices shape trust, respect, and professional integrity, sometimes more than technical skill.
Ethics in interpreting can appear straightforward on paper: confidentiality, impartiality, accuracy. But real life is rarely so simple. Each assignment presents unique scenarios, where interpersonal dynamics, cultural nuance, and context collide. As a CODA, I have the advantage of deep cultural insight, but even that doesn’t eliminate difficult decisions. For example, balancing the needs of a Deaf client with the expectations of hearing professionals can create tension—especially when confidentiality or boundaries are involved.
I often have to ask myself: Am I protecting the client’s rights? Am I maintaining impartiality? Am I upholding professional standards while respecting cultural nuances? The answers aren’t always obvious. Sometimes it’s about stepping back and observing, sometimes it’s about assertively intervening to clarify meaning, and sometimes it’s about saying “no” when a request breaches ethical boundaries.
Some ethical dilemmas are fairly straightforward. For example, if a client asks for my opinion on a situation, my response is clear: I don’t provide personal opinions, but I can signpost them to a Deaf advocate, a support worker, or a Deaf awareness trainer who can assist. Other situations are less clear-cut and require careful judgment, sensitivity, and real-time decision-making. These might involve balancing the needs of multiple clients, navigating conflicting instructions, or responding to unexpected workplace dynamics. Each scenario reinforces that ethical interpreting isn’t just about following rules—it’s about applying judgment with integrity, empathy, and cultural awareness.
Real-world experience brings these challenges into sharp focus. Early in my career, I worked at the Millennium Dome while it was still under construction. Health and safety regulations meant not just anyone could walk on site, and I was often there from 6am to 9pm, Monday to Saturday. I had 28 clients to support, ensuring they were treated equitably, stayed safe, and could fully participate in their work. One of my Deaf clients—still a client today—gelled effortlessly with his team, and my task was to gel with his boss, the largest contractor on site. Navigating that environment required sharp people skills, diplomacy, and a keen awareness of boundaries. I had to establish my “place” with each team while staying respectfully outside their internal politics—a fine line I walked impeccably, if I say so myself.
I recall one particular day vividly: the overall boss—the company owner’s son—was on site, having recently been promoted to regional manager. He was trying to fit in with the team, whose management staff were some of South London’s finest builders and contractors. On this day, the management team (around eight men) and the regional manager had a meeting with key ground staff, including my client, in a hut that wasn’t the usual meeting place. I had finished my interpreting duties and was about to go on my rounds when the regional manager realised he had a question for my client. He started calling him across the site.
In the blink of an eye, all the ground staff stopped, the management team turned to me, and I had to act instantly. Without hesitation, I spoke to the boss’s son—with the most monotone effect —and said, “Yeah, shout at him louder, he’s only deaf!”
There was a moment of pure silence as the boss’s son looked at me. Exhausted and trying not to lose it, I just started to laugh—and everyone roared. I ran off to get my client’s attention, while the boss’s son looked slightly embarrassed. His managers, of course, gave him grief for the rest of the week, which actually helped him settle into the team more easily.
Looking back, ethically, I could have done better—meeting the client’s needs immediately rather than reacting with humour first. At the time, it worked, but reflecting now, I see how even split-second decisions carry ethical weight. Moments like this remind me that ethics is an ongoing practice, not a one-off action.
A more recent assignment illustrates how nuanced ethical decisions can be. The client had unfortunately made some mistakes at work, and the meeting was an extended probationary review. The client struggled to explain themselves clearly, and the three hearing people in the room—who had little to no Deaf awareness—were forming assumptions about the client’s competence.
In that moment, I had to balance impartiality with advocacy. I couldn’t give my personal opinion, but I could clarify Deaf communication norms, helping the hearing participants understand that difficulty expressing oneself in certain ways doesn’t equate to incompetence. It was challenging because it all happened in front of the client, who was struggling to communicate effectively. Ethically, I had to ensure that everyone—client and hearing participants—ended up on a level playing field. By carefully clarifying Deaf norms while maintaining impartiality, all parties were fully informed, the client understood the discussion, and an appropriate amount of empathy and professional support was conveyed.
Ethics doesn’t stop at formal assignments. On a personal note, I still get caught out sometimes. It’s my day off, I’m out shopping, and suddenly someone at the till is experiencing communication issues… oh, it’s a Deaf person. Do I step in and help, or respect my personal time? These situations remind me that ethical decisions can pop up anywhere. Recently, while on holiday with another interpreter, we bumped into 47 Deaf people at a late-night market. Luckily, it was just a casual encounter: “Hi, nice to meet you, what sign language do you use?” rather than a full-on interpreting intervention. Moments like these show the balance between professional instinct and personal boundaries.
Another situation involved a pre-op consultation with my dad. I had booked my own interpreter—a male—for my dad to avoid hospital booking issues. While waiting, we met a Deaf couple expecting their second child. We exchanged greetings, and then it was our turn to be called in. During the consultation, the nurse knocked, requesting my interpreter for the couple. I politely explained this was my interpreter, booked and paid for personally, and checked with my dad if I could step out. He agreed.
I went with the nurse, explained to the couple that it wouldn’t be appropriate for me or my interpreter to cover their appointment, and quickly called around until a local interpreter could arrive in 15 minutes. I arranged payment via a hospital purchase order and handed off the assignment. I missed my dad’s appointment but was reassured he had the right interpreter, and the couple now had appropriate support for a critical appointment. This scenario highlights balancing responsibilities, respecting boundaries, and making real-time ethical decisions—even under pressure.
Ethically, it can be exhausting when the apathy or lack of action from the hearing world slows progress for Deaf individuals. Policies aren’t followed, requests are ignored, and awareness is low. As interpreters, however, we have a responsibility to rise above frustration, maintain professional standards, and act as advocates within our remit. By doing so, we move things forward, ensuring communication access, fairness, and understanding—even when the system around us falls short.
Preparation, reflection, and adaptability are key. Before any assignment, I encourage trainees to:
- Review and refresh skills: revisiting vocabulary, handshapes, and interpreting strategies.
- Visualise scenarios: anticipate challenges, plan responses, and consider ethical implications.
- Reflect on past experiences: identify lessons learned from real-world assignments to apply under pressure.
Ethics isn’t just about rules—it’s about judgment, empathy, and courage. Every choice matters, and every decision shapes both professional reputation and the lived experience of the Deaf community we serve. Whether navigating complex work sites, high-pressure meetings, or sensitive client interactions, ethical awareness is at the heart of being a trusted, competent, and respected interpreter.
