Professional courtesy is like an interface language. I noticed this recently when trying to get a medical referral renewed. I called my doctor, explained that the original referral had expired before I could complete the tests, and asked if she could issue a new one.
What followed was unexpected. Instead of a simple yes or no, I received a detailed narrative about how busy she was. When I offered to compensate for her time, she asked me to remind her later that day. When I did, the response was another story about pressure and busy schedules. A simple request had turned into an ongoing dialogue about someone else's workflow.
The entire exchange could have been different with one sentence: "I'll send it to you tomorrow night." That would have told me everything I needed to know. When professionals deny or delay requests, they often frame it through their own stress. "I'm very pressured." "This is difficult timing." "I'm swamped right now." But stress isn't information - it's noise that muddles the actual message.
This pattern shows up everywhere. Watch how different professionals handle routine requests. Some turn simple tasks into dramatic performances of their busy schedule. Others just tell you when the thing will be done. The difference isn't in their workload - it's in their understanding of what information actually matters to the person asking.
We often mistake emotional transparency for professional courtesy. But when a doctor tells a patient how stressed they are about a simple prescription renewal, they're not being more honest, but they're offloading their workflow anxiety onto someone who came to them for help.
Professional courtesy isn't about being unfailingly polite or hiding all friction. It's about reducing noise in our interactions. When someone asks for a document to be signed, they don't need to know about your packed schedule or how much pressure you're under. They need to know when they'll get the document.
This extends beyond just handling requests. Professional courtesy shapes how we structure our systems. When a restaurant's website puts their hours and location front and center instead of buried under their origin story, that's professional courtesy. When a doctor's office sends appointment reminders with all the relevant details in the first sentence, that's professional courtesy.
These aren't just niceties. They're ways of respecting the finite nature of human attention. Every time we make someone wade through our stress narrative to find out when their prescription will be ready, we're taking something from them that we can't give back.
The best professionals understand this. They know that sharing their workflow stress isn't transparency - it's just creating more work for the person they're supposed to be helping. They focus instead on what the other person actually needs to know.
Next time you're handling a request, notice the impulse to explain how busy you are or how much pressure you're under. Then try leaving all that out. Just say what will happen and when. Watch how much clearer the interaction becomes.