This article is a part of the July/August 2026, Volume 38, Number 4, Audiology Today issue.
I hope you had the chance to hear our keynote speaker, Dr. Hassan Tetteh, at the American Academy of Audiology’s Convention in San Antonio. He challenged us to think about care through the lens of the Three P’s: Purpose (your personal mission—the higher calling you have that enables resilience and ethical decision-making), Personalization (your ability to understand and treat each patient as a unique individual in a unique psychosocial context and not just a diagnostic category), and Partnership (your ability to “coproduce” efficient and compassionate care in collaboration with your patient, significant others, and health-care system assets). For audiologists, these principles seem especially relevant. Hearing loss is never just about the ears. It is about our ability to comprehend and understand each other. It affects identity, connection, and relationships.
Recently, my wife and I shared dinner with close friends—“Dick” and “Jane.” Dick is very accomplished. He is a Naval Academy graduate, spent several years as a Navy fighter pilot, and then obtained an MBA. He subsequently started and sold several companies and was the CEO of a few others. He is very smart, somewhat introverted, and has a sharp sense of sarcastic humor. He also has severe hearing loss. Despite going through multiple premium hearing aid sets, his frustration was simple: “I just want to hear.”
Jane, his vibrant and perceptive wife, is a counseling psychologist. She is a social extrovert with a well-honed ability to observe and listen. She is fun to be around. When she speaks, she exhibits that wonderful, spirited spontaneity, just like her Italian parents. She draws you in by excitedly saying something, and then leans towards you, drops her voice, and conspiratorially makes a funny observation or comment. “I bet you didn’t think I would say that!”—after embarrassing me with her frankness.
Over dinner, we got into an honest conversation about how hearing loss was affecting their relationship. What emerged was powerful. Dick described his sense of isolation, exclusion, and the painful loss of confidence that comes from missing conversations and misreading social cues. Jane shared her own frustration and sadness. They both enjoy each other’s brand of humor. But now it takes a lot of effort, and they are struggling to find the moment-to-moment intimacy that their passing comments once created.
As they listened to each other, they were shocked that they had never taken the time to think about or talk about how Dick’s hearing loss had changed their lives. Certainly, no hearing professional had ever broached the subject.
This is our opportunity. Audiologists are uniquely positioned not only to diagnose hearing loss, but to guide patients and families through its emotional and relational consequences. We can set realistic expectations, facilitate healing conversations, and restore at least some agency to our patients who are deaf and hard of hearing where hearing technology alone falls short.
If AI takes over more routine tasks, perhaps that is our invitation—to return more fully to the heart of audiology: meaningful aural rehabilitation, human connection, and the deeper work of helping people hear each other again. Pay attention to the three P’s. Amplify your value.
David Zapala, PhD
President
