HELLO? (with no apologies to Adele)

The telephone is dead.

Not so much the cell/smartphone, since our fingers twitch to text and tweet and reply-all email.

But the Alexander Graham Bell invention is moribund (especially according to statistics from Nielsen, claiming that we’re moving to a landline-less and voicemail-less society).

All of which we mourn.  To us, it signals an increasingly isolated population, at home and at work.  [Though for the life of us, we can’t figure out who’s talking to whom in our commutes.] 

It shows our determined individualism:  “Hey, we’re communicating on our own terms and in our own timeframe.”

And it points to an ever-decreasing competency in being willing to talk and understanding how to hold a conversation.

According to Miss Manners, phone calls are rude, disruptive, and awkward.  They interrupt our workflow, our home lives, and generally create havoc for those around us.  In fact, it’s become de rigueur to ask, in an email, if it’s okay to call.

Much of that could be due to the constant ‘dialing for dollars’ from robocalls or from groups we’d just as soon not hear from.  And much of that could be a lack of energy to speak with those who want to talk with us; after all, it takes a lot of energy to text and message and scroll through Facebook and LinkedIn and Instagram and Pinterest and other social media.

Some say back-and-forth messaging is simply the new century’s conversation. 

We’d hang up on that.

CONVERSATIONS, UNLIMITED

Much of today’s pop non-fiction is obsessed with conversations.  That is, the lack of them.   The face-to-face type.

Blame quickly shifts to the Millennials who grew up with technology in hand.  And then extends to everyone and anyone who works for a living, over-relying on social media and smartphones, on apps and e-widgets.

Yet it ain’t all the fault of IT.  Nor can we point fingers to specific cohorts, because, truth! everyone indulges.  It’s just easier to communicate with things other than our mouths, our voices, our hearts.

In a recent Wall Street Journal article, a Yale professor of computer science, half tongue in cheek and half not, proposes a Talknet for seniors.  That is, a 365/24/7 system that allows elderfolks the ability to tune into any dialogue going on around the world.  His plan is simple:  Five choices on screen, each with no more than ten participants.  Start your own conversation.  Or wait for others to leave.  Or, quite simply, listen in with computer speakers.

It’s an imaginary concept that could work, quite well, in corporate settings.  And not just for seniors.  It would train employees in the art and craft of talking.  It might be a good substitute for some learning and development courses (with apologies to those professionals).  And it could replace the communities of practice, the Yammers of the world, and corporate jam sessions (among others), helping workers realize that there’s much to be gained in connecting and relating live.

The fault, dear Brutus …

WHAT TALK REALLY MEANS

Everyone’s into conversations these days … on Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, even the network-able LinkedIn. 

At least on the agency and client front, the latest dialogue is all about engaging consumers with the brand, creating occasions and ongoing events that encourage an exchange relationship.  Proponents point to real-time communications – on the Web (e.g., McDonald’s Our Food, Your Questions), through the Twitter-sphere (cf. Oreos celebrating lights-out or saluting different demographics) – in the same places we as consumers meet our friends and colleagues.  In short, brands are people too … in this anthropomorphic perspective.

Here comes our heresy:  Pardon us if we have a difficult time envisioning when, exactly, we’d talk with a brand.  Do we want them to advise us on our shopping habits, our love lives, the ways we conduct our business?  Is it important that we dub brands as our next best friends?  [Except for the times when we’re disappointed in service or need/want additional information.]  A brand is simply that:  an inanimate object that, often today, is given human attributes, emotions, and interests.  Most consumers, we hope, would know that their brand relationship is actually staffed by real people who work for a real corporation; every time we go to a Web site or email about an issue, an individual, not the brand, responds.  [Or usually does.  There are times … ]

What we want in an engagement with a brand is something of value.  It could be relevant information that helps us work smarter, better, faster.  Or an app that saves time and money or answers critical questions.  In other instances, it might be a way to express ourselves quickly, as in “likes” and “shares.”  And a split-second of laughter that might lighten our mood.  Even an unknown “something” that will, some day, add to our lives.

We talk every day, with our clients, our friends, our colleagues, our family.  Do we truly need to engage in that kind of talk with a brand?

THE ART OF TALK

These days, conversation just might be the 2013 version of texting. 

Then, again, a second talk trend seems to contradict that. 

One positive we’ve noticed, personally and in the media:  Encouraging, even engaging all around the table in hearty dialogue during mealtimes. “The family that converses together, stays together” is how the adage might play out. And families and couples, from the Obamas to, yes, Joe the Plumber and his peers, tune up the conversations at dinner.  Some focus on more meaty subjects, like politics and the state of the green world.  Others, simply on sharing the day’s events.  There’s no right or wrong way, say proponents, to talk.  Just do it.  Minus the television, cell phones, video games, and other tech distractions.

Trend two:  Casual restaurants (Applebee’s, Chili’s, even P.F. Chang) are installing mini-screens at the tabletop, offering diners the options to order, play games, and pay.  And not communicate.  Quite a few of these pilots claim great success in driving more frequent table turns, increasing dessert orders, and helping determine if the kiosks will become more permanent profit centers.  Parent reactions are mixed; waiters, even more so.  In this not-so-giving economy, we get it:  It’s time to continue seeking additional sources of revenue. 

We as proponents of the art of talk aren’t thrilled with the advent of diningIT.  There are good and valid reasons for eating outside the home, whether it’s a choice of more Top Chef-like menus (sorry, Mom!) or simply a relaxing escape from daily cooking.  Inserting technology into the experience negates personalized service offered by wait-persons and eager-to-serve counter people and, most important, limits our human interactions.

We know it’s hard enough to get managers and employees to talk casually and meaningfully with each other about work that matters.  So advocating that anyone adopt another tech-y habit is akin to endorsing “no talk zones” … everywhere.  Or is it enough to endorse the art of dialogue, as does Robert Louis Stevenson?  “Talk is by far the most accessible of pleasures. It costs nothing in money, it is all profit, it completes our education, founds and fosters our friendships, and can be enjoyed at any age and in almost any state of health”?