RSS feedI hate email. I’ve been (ab)using it since 1984, and it still doesn’t communicate the way I do. In fact, the last few days, I’ve had two communication breakdowns involving email.
The first was an email from an acquaintance asking for feedback on a project proposal. So I sent them my feedback. The problem was that I sent way too much detail, because unknown to them, it was an area in which I tend to specialise, user interaction/interface design. This then made me look like a bit of a smart arse and a trouble maker. Imagine asking an NRMA safety officer which bull bar to buy for your 4WD, or asking the tax office which loop hole you should be using this year.
There’s a decision to be made here about whether to give them the full detail, which is ultimately the best way to help them out, or on the other hand to give them just a smattering of feedback, enough to make me look helpful, yet not enough to show that I know very much about the subject.
I could of course ask them how much feedback they want, but then I’ve already started down the slippery slope of being a smart arse.
Which bull bar should I buy for my 4WD?
How much detail would you like?
The second breakdown was one of those split email threads, where an initial email splits into two completely different arguments, multiplexed over a single thread. In most cases, the thread becomes two people trying to explain that what they said, wasn’t actually what they said, and it escalates from there, with each person concentrating more and more on the actual words, not the meaning of each email, and the two perceived arguments getting further and further apart.
But you had a comma between them, which means you don’t agree, else you should have used a semicolon, especially when followed by a verb. No wonder you misunderstood me! And anyway, who said I was being pedantic, I was just pointing out the inconsistency of your logic when used to arbitrarily compare two different technically correct yet contextually incorrect statements.
There’s a decision to be made here as well, at which point to pick up the phone, or if you can’t, at which point to resign from the thread, knowing full well that the other person will think that they’ve won an argument, even though it never existed. Ahh, the human condition, never wanting to lose, especially when there’s nothing to lose, but the winner perceives that there is. 🙂
Both of these communication breakdowns probably wouldn’t have occurred if we were talking to each other in person, or even on the phone. The risk of argument is higher, because you’re in a live conversation, with limited opportunity to think about what to say, yet communication tends
to be more successful. With email, you have a lot of time to sculpt the perfect reply, which in most cases is then completely misunderstood.
This is why I believe anyone can play improv. We do it everyday when we communicate with people, reading visual and audible cues, planning our responses, navigating our way through the miscommunication minefield.
Improv isn’t about learning to improvise, it is about removing the boundaries which growing up has placed around our natural ingrained ability to improvise. The world gives us our inputs, and we adapt or improvise accordingly. That’s life. Breaking these boundaries can be difficult for some, but is always possible.