Before You Hit 'Send'
We've become addicted to instantaneous communication
— whether it is CNN 24/7 (or your preferred
alternative), e-mail, cell phones or that infamous device,
the ever-more-present Blackberry (known in some circles as
the "Crackberry" due to the addictive behavior it induces).
We wonder how we got along before we had such efficient
media messaging.
But there is a dark side to all of this. Having just
watched Bowling for Columbine a few days ago, I was
reminded by director Michael Moore of the power an
omnipresent media has to distort our sense of security. All
news, all the time, increases our sense of vulnerability.
It feeds our worries about the likelihood of crime,
tornadoes, hurricanes, floods or enemy attacks wreaking
havoc upon our lives. The media's constant focus on
unpleasant events, no matter how remote or how unlikely
they may be, makes those events seem all the more
threatening: a clear and present danger to us and our
families.
E-mail, on the other hand, is a much more insidious
form of media. When I retire, I contemplate writing a book
titled E-mails to the President chronicling some of the
more interesting and outlandish messages I have received.
They range from the truly ridiculous to the sublime.
For example, despite the fact that Congress passed
hyper-strict HIPAA laws governing privacy of medical
information in order that patients won't have their
sensitive medical histories read by others, I often receive
e-mails from complete strangers who know me only as the
president of Johns Hopkins. They nonetheless send me their
complete and unexpurgated medical histories in hopes of
finding a doctor at Hopkins who might finally give them
much-needed relief from suffering — and HIPAA be
damned! I respond by trying to put them in touch with the
appropriate-expertise resident in our fine medical
center.
Others write to complain, compliment, urge, cajole,
commiserate or otherwise lay on the table their favorite
issue that should be, in their minds, front and center as
the top priority of the university. Sometimes they are
right on the money, and occasionally I have been awakened
to a point of view or perspective that I was perhaps
missing. Other times, they rail on and on about an issue
where they believe we are going off the deep end, without
so much as taking the time to call someone and get their
facts straight first.
These examples are not entirely unique to e-mail
— many of these same poisoned pens can just as easily
communicate in standard written form through the mails. But
in my experience, there are certain unique characteristics
to e-mail that make it particularly suitable to negative
and even bellicose communication. Almost all e-mailers
compose their own messages and send them sight unseen to
others. Thus, after a particularly engrossed (and perhaps
enraged) writer finishes his or her missive, it is very
easy to hit the "send" button and voila! the message is
launched irretrievably into the ether (or Ethernet, as is
usually the case). With a paper letter, one has to write it
out or type it, or assign it to a secretary who does the
transcription, then proof the letter, stamp and mail it.
There is a deliberateness to the process of paper
communication that leads to a certain contemplativeness
that I think is quite salubrious to civil communication.
I use the word civil not as opposed to military but as
contrasted with uncivil. All too often, when we receive
news that makes us angry, or hear about something that
upsets us, the ability to communicate electronically while
the rush of adrenaline still flows in our veins leads to
messages written in a tone that utterly negates any
semblance of veracity in the text. The recipient of said
e-mail is likely either to discard the e-mail as pure
emotional overreaction, or, worse yet, to fight fire with
fire. For whatever reason, people will write things in an
e-mail they never would commit to a typewritten letter.
Certainly, they would not say these things face to face to
the intended recipient. I can only guess it's because there
is an assumed anonymity to e-mail that, in reality, just
doesn't exist.
Dueling flaming e-mails have replaced Derringer
pistols at 20 paces. But with pistols, two people at most
die, and everyone else goes home sadder and perhaps wiser
to the folly of it all. With e-mails, one can take an
offensive message and quickly forward it to tens, hundreds
or even thousands of colleagues, setting off a battle of
divisiveness unmatched this side of Palestine. The content
of the original message quickly becomes lost in a war of
egos.
Here's my simple solution: I intend to write to Bill
Gates to ask if he will refashion the software code for
e-mail programs so that when you hit the "send" button, all
hostile e-mail goes into a locked file inside your PC and
stays there for a minimum of 24 hours. After that
obligatory delay, the PC will cough up your draft, ask you
to review it and then query you by asking, Did you really
want to send this e-mail message? Often in these cases
cooler heads prevail, and we will answer in the negative
and edit our draft.
While we are waiting for Windows XXP with these new
changes, I would ask my colleagues at Hopkins to remember
there is a person with feelings as sensitive as their own
on the receiving end of every e-mail. Taking time to be
courteous, and civil, in e-mail correspondence is likely to
make communication more effective, and Hopkins a better
place for all.
William R. Brody is president
of The Johns Hopkins University.
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