The De-Personalization of Our Culture

I have a theory.

It's been cooking for a while now, like an idea for a novel or a slow-cooked christmas ham.

In finding a decent job, looking for a new apartment, applying for credit cards, nagging companies I've worked for to send me my last check already, and generally just doing what adults normally do, I've encountered a large barrier. It's a product of massive amounts of technological and societal complexity in our culture.

For example, I have called/emailed/texted dozens of landlords, realtors, and owners about houses and apartments for rent over the last two months or so. Roughly half of them got back to me. The rest are slowly trickling in, but by now I already found a place to live. So I tell them politely (but in a slightly passive-aggressive fashion):

"I'm sorry, I found a place last week."

To which they respond:

"Oh. Ok." And then they hang up. Or something like this happens:

"Ohhh very nice! Tell me about it!"

Which naturally segways into an attempt to get me to switch. To which I finally reply:

"I'm sorry, but no. I'd rather not go through the hassle. And I'm fairly certain I'm getting a great deal. Good-bye!"

What exactly happened on their end? I envision something similar to this:

Because frankly, I don't understand why somebody would see an email that basically says

OH HAI IMMA GIVE YOU MONEYS IF YER PLACE IS GUD.

And then ignore it. That boggles my mind.

Of course, the job hunt process is much worse, but I do understand that they don't really have any obligation to get back to me (one of hundreds of applicants).

So this is where I began composing my theory. Over the last century the technology in our society has exploded. This is, for the most part, a really good thing. We are the most healthy we've ever been in the history of humanity. We can get places faster than we ever could. We can get more work done, share it with more people, and spread ideas faster than ever. And I can order nutella online and get it delivered to my front door. That's probably the best part.

That said, it's had a subtle side effect.

Let's rewind a hundred years. You went to the post office to send mail. You greeted the clerk who worked there who was probably your neighbor or something. If you wanted a job, you presented yourself to whoever was in charge and attempted to market yourself, to which they would be obliged to accept you or reject you on the spot. How bizarre would it be to approach a barista in a coffee shop, ask them for a mocha, and get this:

Would be vaguely unsettling, yes?

Then for the next three weeks you return to the coffee shop, ask for a mocha, and are met with the same stare. Finally the barista brightens up and says,

"Yes sir, I'll get that to you right away!" And you walk out of the coffee shop with 21 mochas back-ordered from your three weeks of consistent business.

The reason that never happens is because we have a general sense of propriety (most of us, at least) that obliges us to respond politely when we receive a direct, in-person communication from someone.

But with the advent of the internet, all of a sudden we don't have to look someone in the eye to speak to them anymore.

And it becomes very easy to completely ignore an email.

It won't change, definitely not because I've rambled about it online, but I think it should be reformed slightly.

If your business depends on electronic communication to function, every piece of email, text, or voice mail should be considered as viable and urgent as a face to face conversation. Because we still like to be recognized as human beings when we go out of our way to talk to someone, especially if it's waving a check for a security deposit on an apartment under their nose!

Sort of relevant (not really), but funny:

“We've all heard that a million monkeys banging on a million typewriters will eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare. Now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true.” 
― Robert Wilensky