Let me tell you a story, one that still makes my blood boil a little, but also reminds me why we as Interpreters must hold the line in our profession.
A few months ago, I was hired for a university conference. Everything seemed perfect: materials were shared in advance, organizers were responsive, and even the remote speaker (joining from another country) had all the right gear USB mic, headset, and experience with virtual platforms. Smooth sailing, right?
Then came the curveball.
The Bait-and-Switch
The day before the event, we arrived early for a dry run. But when I asked for the RSI (Remote Simultaneous Interpretation) access code, I was met with blank stares.
“Oh, we’re not using an interpretation platform. You’ll sit by the auditorium speakers and interpret using portable tour-guide equipment.”
Excuse me?
I took a deep breath, professionalism first, but inside, I was fuming. This wasn’t just inconvenient; it was unworkable. Imagine straining to hear a remote speaker over room acoustics, then interpreting into a handheld device while the audience gets a chaotic mix of direct speech and your delayed rendition. Feedback galore. Missed segments. A guaranteed disaster.
The Shocking Justification
When I asked why the sudden change, the organizer admitted something infuriating:
“Well, last month, we had another conference with a remote speaker. The tech team suggested this setup, and the interpreters agreed. They didn’t complain.”
My boothmate and I exchanged glances. Who were these interpreters?
Turns out, they were court and hospital interpreters skilled in their fields, but not conference veterans. They’d accepted the shoddy arrangement without question. Worse? The organizer admitted the interpretation had been bad, full of repetitions, gaps, and confusion, but since “everyone understood it’s hard to interpret remote speakers,” they’d shrugged it off.
Drawing the Line
Here’s where things got real. I told the organizers:
- This isn’t just about us. Subpar interpretation cheats the audience. They pay to understand, not to guess.
- It’s a health hazard. Straining to hear through room speakers risks long-term hearing damage.
- It’s unprofessional. Conference interpreting has standards for a reason.
Then, the kicker: “We won’t interpret the remote speech under these conditions.”
Silence.
The Happy(ish) Ending
The next morning, we got a message: “We’ve upgraded the platform. Can you test it?”
We did. The speech went smoothly. But the victory felt hollow.
Why? Because this mess never should’ve happened. Other interpreters had set a dangerous precedent by accepting and normalizing unworkable conditions. Maybe they were desperate for work. Maybe they didn’t know better. But their compliance made our job harder.
The Bigger Lesson
This isn’t just about one conference. It’s about protecting our profession. When we lower standards, we:
- Hurt clients, who think mediocrity is acceptable.
- Undermine colleagues, who now have to fight for basic conditions.
- damages our reputations, because “good enough” becomes the norm.
So, what do we do?
- Educate clients. Many don’t know the difference between a courtroom interpreter and a conference pro. Spell it out.
- Mentor newcomers. If you see inexperienced interpreters taking on conference work, guide them, don’t scorn them.
- Refuse to compromise. Even if others cave, stand firm. Your integrity (and your ears) will thank you.
Final Thought
You know what’s ironic? The organizers expected us to push back. They admitted they’d been surprised when the first team didn’t. That tells you everything.
Clients rely on us to be the experts. So let’s act like it even when others are doing the opposite.
Stay sharp, stay professional, and for heaven’s sake, don’t sit next to a wall speaker.