Letters / Whalsay’s voice won’t be silenced
Despite valiant efforts to unplug, refresh, and even consult the local AI bot oracle — who, with all the certainty of a lottery prediction, reassuringly insisted that “everything is working fine” — Whalsay residents are left hollering into the void, “Hello? Is anyone there?”
What began as a hopeful quest for reliable connection has degenerated into a grand farce, with voices vanishing mid-sentence and phone lines behaving more erratically than North Sea weather. Was that a dial tone or just the sound of hope slipping away?
Since the so-called digital upgrade of March 2024 — a leap that was supposed to carry us into a glittering future but instead tossed us into the Bermuda Triangle of phone service — the situation hasn’t just failed to improve; it’s managed to set a new low bar.
At this point, the word ‘upgrade’ seems to have been borrowed from the same dictionary as ‘robust’ used during that notorious Post Office computer glitch, where system failures were explained away for years while actual lives unravelled.
It’s hard not to draw parallels: Whalsay’s technical woes are met with the same chorus of “Nothing to see here!” and empty assurances from those in charge, while the evidence mounts as steadily as our frustration.
The crisis has only intensified as major providers—EE, BT, and Vodafone—have become even more frequent sources of disruption. Instead of taking responsibility, each seems intent on passing the blame from one to the other, pointing fingers at line faults, service outages, or technical glitches on someone else’s patch.
The result: an endless loop of shifting accountability, leaving Whalsay residents with worsening service and rising exasperation. The increase in outages is matched only by the speed at which providers dodge the issue, as calls for answers are met with the same familiar refrain— “It’s not our fault!”
Our community’s complaints began as a polite grumble but now ring out like a chorus fit for the Royal Opera House. And surely, if evasion and delay were Olympic sports, those responsible for our service fiasco and the Post Office debacle alike would be strong contenders for gold.
Let it be said: Whalsay doesn’t complain for the sake of it—unless, of course, direct action is the only way to be heard over the static.
The real tragedy here is that, yet again, it’s our elderly, vulnerable and our carers who pay the highest price.
Many gave up their reliable old phones for new gadgets, only to find themselves more isolated, bewildered, and vulnerable than ever. Those who once used the phone to call for help, chat with family, or arrange vital care now find themselves cut off, left with nothing but a riddle: How many dropped calls does it take before someone admits there’s a real problem?
It’s starting to feel like déjà vu from the Post Office scandal, with everyone tiptoeing around the obvious for fear of uttering the forbidden words: “The system has failed.” At this rate, our research might never be conclusive, but the sheer scale of failure shouts louder than a puffin in peak season.
The system isn’t just glitchy; it’s fundamentally broken. Whalsay deserves better, and the longer those responsible dances around the issue, the more glaring their denial becomes.
Perhaps they’re waiting for the problem to solve itself, or for public memory to fade, as happened for so many years with the Post Office case—except, of course, that our elderly and vulnerable can’t wait that long for someone to admit it’s not working.
For those seeking updates, please reach out via carrier pigeon, semaphore, or smoke signals—proven to be more reliable, and at least honest about their limitations. A little transparency would go a long way.
And while service providers assure us that engineers are ‘working round the clock’, their timeline for resolution seems to be set to the same slow-motion pace as those years spent denying the Post Office system’s faults.
Meetings to brainstorm solutions have become support sessions, complete with tea, biscuits, and the dark humour of those who’ve been let down before—especially the elderly, who know better than anyone how long it can take to get authorities to admit the truth.
If all else fails, perhaps we’ll swap tech altogether for training in semaphore and sheepdog courier services.
Until someone finally says what everyone already knows—the system has failed—rest assured: the voice of Whalsay won’t be silenced, no matter how faint the line or how long the wait for an honest answer.
Regina Irvine
Whalsay
