There was a problem

A man drives back to a small car mechanic in Shebin el-Kom. The rattle under the dashboard that was fixed on Sunday has returned by Tuesday.

The mechanic waves him into the bay, tightens something, and says, kindly enough, that it is no problem.

He means well. He is telling the driver he has not been a nuisance. But the words do something else as well. They close the matter. They tell the driver there is nothing more to say, and they tell the mechanic there is nothing to learn.

There was a problem. The rattle came back. Perhaps a clip was the wrong size. Perhaps the apprentice who did the job on Sunday was rushing. Perhaps the same part is failing in three other cars that will be back next week. The driver has just handed him the most useful piece of information he will get all month, for free, and he has thanked him for it by telling him it does not exist.

A better reply costs nothing. Thank you for bringing it back. Then a question: when did it start, and does it happen on rough roads or smooth ones?

Feedback is something people choose to give. They give it again to the places that seem glad to receive it. The places that wave it away hear less each time, until one day the complaints stop arriving, not because the work improved but because the drivers went elsewhere and did not bother to say why.

The reassurance was polite. It just answered the wrong question.