What happens when institutions that ask for the public’s trust fail to extend professional respect in return? In this personal reflection, I explore how institutional silence, especially following a seemingly sincere engagement, undermines not merely individual dignity, but the very civic trust these organizations claim to uphold. This is not some grievance, it’s an observation of the ethics of response and of the quiet obligations that make public servants bound to common sense principles.
In civic and political engagement, responsiveness from institutions weighs far more heavily than mere courtesy. It is, rather, a cornerstone of trust and mutual respect. Irrespective of an entity’s status — be it a company, nonprofit, civic network, or otherwise — these institutions hold considerable power not only in their effectual decisions, but in the way they respond to those who reach out in earnest. The act of answering thus, or not answering at all, carries weight.
This is not an abstract claim. I recently experienced this silence firsthand. After being strongly encouraged to engage with a policy-oriented nonprofit whose mission aligned near perfectly with my own civic work, including self-taught historical research, public messaging, and intercultural bridge-building, I found myself navigating a process that had begun with sincerity, even warmth, but ended in pure silence.
What was initially framed as a serious and perhaps even transformative conversation simply ceased, without explanation or, most importantly, closure.
This experience has reminded me that silence, particularly in the aftermath of objectively enthusiastic engagement, can be more damaging than routine rejection. It leaves the individual not only uncertain, but diminished. And not because the opportunity was lost, but because it felt as though their very livelihood would have had to vanish from the institutional radar. It leaves one wondering whether their voice was actually heard or merely tolerated.
It is common sense that professional ethics demand more. Institutions that ask for the public’s trust must embody the same principles they advocate for society at large if they are to be worthy of the same public’s good conscience: transparency, accountability, and a continuous recognition of individual dignity. In accordance with such an orientation, timely communication is not just polite, it is effectively a reaffirmation that people matter, and that time and hope offered in good faith are worth acknowledging.
I myself also acknowledge there are innumerable reasons why an organization may delay a decision or “go in a different direction”. But when no reason is given, when the line simply goes dead, it constitutes an injustice in the place of trust. Especially in advocacy and policy spaces, where there is a heavy dependency on interpersonal networks and social credibility, these lapses in judgment are not discounted. They will continue to ripple outward and shape how individuals view the integrity of the causes these institutions claim to represent.
As someone deeply invested in civic life, this experience has only reinforced my belief that institutions must do better beyond strategically, but ethically. Respect is not easily earned. But as they say, talk is cheap.
When individuals step forward to serve in roles of little prestige, financial incentive, and potential personal hardship, they deserve clarity. Such clarity is not just for that individual’s own sake, it is for the sake of the institution’s own credibility.
I remain committed to the principles that originally drove me to be so interested in civic work: transparency and historical understanding. Yet very notably, I now, as a result of my recent experience, bear a sharper awareness that these principles must be lived in addition to being already proclaimed.
Institutions must be held to the same standard we set for individuals: treat others the way you want to be treated. You can’t forge civic trust from slogans and campaigns. You stitch it together over time with choices that may feel invisible: responding to emails, closing loops, and treating people with the sort of respect their efforts deserve. That’s called public service.