The Irish person’s guide on how to say no - and mean it
Suzanne Harrington: Irish people, in general, are terrible at direct speech. Picture: iStock
Look at those little sentences. Note the lack of “sorry”, or the padding out with convoluted excuses.
Just a clear, unambiguous, polite refusal. Now, say them out loud. You won’t get an electric shock — not even if you say the last one.
Go on. Have a go.
For years, an Irish academic friend struggled to say no clearly until her British employers sent her to a series of workshops. One of which was ‘How to say yes strategically’ — in other words, how to say no.
When I ask her if she’s free to tell me more about her experiences for this article, she says no. She’s too busy. She says that learning to say no clearly is both unIrish and incredibly liberating. We laugh and hang up.
Irish people, in general, are terrible at direct speech. However, we are not alone. All over the world, cultures from Asia to Africa choose politeness, stalling, nuance, and obfuscation to save face and maintain social harmony. This is indirect communication — in cultures like the US and Germany, direct communication is more prevalent.
Also, formerly colonised societies may be more conflict-averse — we want to keep the peace. Historically, we’ve been conditioned to distrust our own agency. It’s not just an Irish thing, although we excel at ‘no’ avoidance in a unique way.
It’s also highly gendered. Irish women tend to be particularly hopeless at saying no directly. Instead, we waffle: “I’ll see how things pan out; maybe later, I’ll let you know.”
This does not resolve anything, but leaves the situation open — it often means you just have to say no a bit later, having created false hope. Or martyr yourself.
Psychotherapist Celine Murphy specialises in co-dependency.
“We Irish are known worldwide for our politeness,” she says.
(Even in English, we deadpan “I will yeah”, when we mean “absolutely no way whatsoever”.)
“Anything to avoid discomfort,” says Murphy. “Learning to say no can be liberating and stops us from dithering, being indecisive, or procrastinating. For generations we’ve been steeped in what we think is politeness, but really it’s people-pleasing.”
She says that getting comfortable with feeling uncomfortable is the first step. “It’s refreshing to not have to make up excuses, justifications, or explanations.”
“A simple no is adulting and liberating. It’s taking back your power, instead of saying ‘maybe’ or ‘I’ll think about it’. Trust that the other person on the receiving end of that ‘no’ can take it.”
An adult will not die of disappointment, rejection, or umbrage if you say no to them; if they are reactive, it’s their issue not yours.
Freaking out, sulking, or ignoring a reasonable refusal is not your problem.
If someone values you and wants you in their life, they are not going to drop you for not being able to child-mind, dog-sit, hang out, stay late, lend money, whatever.
What’s actually unkind and unhelpful is letting the other person think that your vague no may mean a later yes. This is unfair to the other person.
“Everyone knows where they stand with a clear cut no,” says Murphy.
“Get comfortable with setting your own boundaries and having self-respect.
“Tap into your inner self and ask yourself: Do I want to? Does it interest me? Would I enjoy it? Then respond with an honest reply.”
In her book , therapist Nedra Glover-Tawwab says that ignoring your own boundaries can result in burnout, mental illness, resentment, frustration, and unhealthy relationships.
“My life before I had healthy boundaries was overwhelming and chaotic,” she writes. Learning to say no, to set boundaries, came with time and practice.
“I was scared, I didn’t want to make anyone mad, and I didn’t know the right words.
“I feared that standing up for myself would cost me my relationships.”
Spoiler: It didn’t. It made her healthier, happier, more energised.
Psychotherapist Orlagh Reid reminds us that saying no to others is really saying yes to yourself.
“It’s prioritising yourself first,” she says.
“It’s a skill and a habit. It’s something we can practice and get better at. We can say ‘no’ with a full stop — we don’t need to give excuses or reasons.
“It’s about understanding our core priorities and values in our own life and being comfortable that ‘no’ is a boundary that protects us from burnout, fatigue, and resentment.”
There will always be those who push your boundaries, the gwan-gwan-gwan brigade, who can be anything from needy and self-involved to manipulative and coercive. The antidote is a clear, unadorned no.
“When you become a ‘no’ person, people will stop asking and pushing,” she says.
“It’s up to us to decide who we are willing to help, for whom we’d go that extra mile. Saying no is really simple.
“When you’re saying no, keep it short, keep it simple, be specific, and make it about yourself. No need to apologise. Irish women are always saying sorry — we need to stop that. Be clear, give a clear message.
“Practice saying no in the mirror. The more you practice, the easier it will get. Unashamedly and unapologetically.
“Be confident in saying no to others, regardless of the reason, particularly in the workplace. You will be respected for saying no.”
Psychotherapist Diane McDonald reminds us of Jane Fonda’s famous definition that no is a full sentence.
“We Irish would rather the ground swallowed us,” she says. “We find it excruciating, which is why it’s often followed up by over-explaining.”
We have a tendency to offer a slew of convoluted excuses; the subtext is “please don’t hate me”, she says, adding that we want to be universally liked and place our own needs below other people’s opinions.
This is not good for us.
A no to your beloved partner to go to see a band you hate is very different from a no to your manipulative boss asking you to work late again. No to an always-asking-for-favours friend is not the same as no to someone who rarely asks, but whom you genuinely can’t help.
It’s nuanced. It’s not one-size-fits-all.
“While we are not responsible for others’ feelings ... we do have a responsibility to be decent human beings,” says McDonald. “If you genuinely would like to have been able to say yes, but circumstances won’t allow it, why not be honest and say so?”
For those who require a clear, direct no, McDonald reminds us that “learning to sit with the discomfort or guilt is a vital part”.
Temporary discomfort is better than long-term resentment and burnout.
“If someone is upset with you [for saying no], you can empathise with that. But don’t take on what isn’t yours.”
Michelle Harding is an etiquette coach and the founder of Ireland’s School of Life.
She offers simple, clear advice on how to succinctly, yet politely, say no.
“Irish people don’t want to appear awkward, difficult, or to have notions,” she says. “So instead of saying no, we delay, soften, apologise, over-explain, and end up feeling resentful. If you can’t say no clearly, your yes means very little.”
First, there’s the clear, professional No.
“This is where Irish people waffle the most,” she says. “Instead of ‘maybe… I’ll try… sure, send it on…’, try saying the following: ‘I don’t have the capacity to take that on properly right now’.
“No apology spiral, no life story, no vague maybe. If needed, you can always add: ‘If it can wait until next week, I can look at it then.’”
Then there’s the boundary no for friends and people outside the workplace.
“Instead of inventing an excuse, say: ‘I’m going to skip this one’; ‘I need a quiet night’; ‘I can’t make that.’
“You don’t need a fake headache, a sick cousin, a dramatic work emergency.
“Adults are allowed to protect their energy. Friendships survive honesty better than flaky answers.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I don’t have the time.”
Most Irish people keep talking. “The more you explain, the more it sounds negotiable.”
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