Be careful what you put in writing.
- Fliss Falconer
- Dec 26, 2025
- 3 min read
Coming to you live following Chris Martin's revelations...
19 July 2025
Fliss Falconer
'If it's not written down, it didn't happen' is a mentality that is advocated at work, as we take our accountability to the core as a key value. The need to record everything accurately can feel daunting at times - it requires us to use our time wisely and document how those hours are spent. A bit like planning a road trip or your summer calendar (tick that off my list!) you need to calculate the journey, the stops, and leave room to get back.
As much as I love Copilot (no surprise there) I have strict personal policies about not using it for my work when it comes to the real people I serve, let alone the strict policies in place at work. Therefore, I am very thankful of the speed and (mostly accurate) typing that I have honed over the years so that I can type up what I have done as quickly and clearly as possible.
I also write these blogs myself and strategically use Copilot to check them through for spelling errors before I publish. My mother would happily do this, too. If you're reading this, I don't want you to think that a computer has put it together - I want AI to help me with chores so I can focus on the creative bit, not the other way around.
Anyway, it's my job to ensure that the full picture is recorded, truthfully, accurately and be understood by someone who has never seen the issue before, may have no insider knowledge about education but can make a potentially life-changing decision based on what they have read. It is also my job to ensure that what is going out into the public domain is what the public should see.
It's a fine line. Just like blogs, social media posts, and the Monday morning 'How was your weekend?' updates, people will naturally shy away from giving the full picture to those who are not within their inner circle. We keep things that are just for us to know internalised and often transmit the shinier, brighter version. We keep the mundane, repetitive and sometimes questionable and unforgivable moments to ourselves.
Sometimes, this is not the case.
Sometimes you forget that by simply doing something, you’re being seen in more ways than you realise.
When there are books, blogs, podcasts and seminars available to teach you how to read and interpret the minutiae of body language - crossing of arms and legs, inflections of the voice, twitches of mouths and eyebrows - is it any wonder that when you are out in public, people witness more than what you choose to reveal?
You might encrypt your emails, install the firewalls, and use face-mapping tech on your lock screen... and still, something leaks. Often, through human error.
In sessions with schools, I have shared memories of meetings with members of my school's Senior Leadership Team who reminded us more than once that we should use professional language to discuss the children in our care, and that anything we wrote could be called upon for public view. Each time I wondered what the hell people were writing!
It’s something my mother drilled into me: Write it down. Keep a list. Keep a record. But above all, know it can be used against you. So be careful. Be accurate. Be honest. And never use writing to vent or exact revenge. It’s a hard, fine line.
From restorative training with the great Kate Simpson, I’ve held onto the phrase: your truth, my truth, and the truth. Striving for fairness and accuracy every time. It’s tough—and we rarely get it perfectly right.
It comes down to what we say and do can always come and bite us in the bum, best of intentions or not. Integrity, another core value, means that we do the right thing no matter who is watching and even when no one is watching at all.
What language choices are you using? Warm and welcoming? Persuasive, not manipulative? Curious, not coercive?
If your in-the-moment frustration was aired on camera, would you cover your face or dive to the floor?
To illustrate a point, I asked Copilot to draft a warm, friendly message for a child who’d been absent from school. Then I asked it to write one using angry, frustrated words. It refused.
If AI knows not to speak to children that way, maybe that’s a lesson for all of us.
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