Phone home: not!
Recently I saw a depressing article in the NY Times about the decline of the telephone conversation. And the comments were even sadder.
It seems the phone is going the way of the dodo and the calling card. People would rather text. People don’t have time to chat. People see it as an intrusion. People want to get to the point. People have better things to do.
Like what? Are most people so engaged in earth-shaking activities that time out for a little conversation is so onerous? Or are people just immersing themselves more and more in the safety of solitary technology, which eliminates all messy demands from others and gives us more drastic control of input and output?
I confess that, although I certainly spend more than average time on a computer, I love the contact of the phone and use it regularly. Always have. I have a lot of friends and loved ones who are far away. I have a great many local friends who are busy and for whom the phone is the best way to communicate. Even though I’m a writer, I prefer to supplement email contact with the human voice, which conveys feeling and tone and jokes and interactions in real time.
And (gasp!) I even prefer face-to-face contact over telephones. That’s just the sort of dinosaur I am.
[NOTE: I’ve also noticed that business contacts on the phone are becoming stranger and more difficult. I’m not talking just about the usual wait for the message (“press 1 if you would like to speak to…”) to run through its laborious paces, but the contact itself once you get to speak to someone. The person on the other end—be he/she computer techie or salesperson or airline information agent—increasingly seems vaguely hostile and irritated right from the start.
All too often, “customer service” has now been relegated to what is almost a battle, even for one’s request to be understood, much less answered. And I’m not just talking about those times when the person on the other end hails from Mumbai, either. I’ve noticed that, in general, the agent can’t seem to respond to a question or a situation of any complexity whatsoever.
No doubt they’d rather be texting.]
God help me, for about a year, I worked in one of those phone bank jobs at the end of a big corporate phone tree, doing … well, customer support. It was the suckiest job I ever worked, I hated every minute of my time there, and I like to think that I was at least polite to the callers, but there were some (especially the inebriated ones on weekends) who really, really tested my self-discipline.
For one, the person you are talking to is usually being recorded – and listened to and critiqued by the floor supervisor. While they talk to you, the customer service agent is usually trying to negotiate whatever softwear program that the corporate suits bought into, twenty years before, which is outdated, inneficient and with so many loopholes that it usually takes about a year for said agent to negotiate the system with confidence. And their talk with you is usually being timed – with points deducted for taking longer, which it might be if your problem is complicated. Usually, by the time that year is up, the agent can’t stand another minute of working there. And the cycle repeats…
I lasted a year, by the way. Towards the end, I was seeing melting down, and throwing my headset across the room and quitting on the spot as a very real possibility.
I HATE phones.
That said, I have at least one minimum-half-hour conversation with my parents a week, usually two. My siblings, maybe every other month.
It’s just a way to signal “I love you, I care about you”– even when my husband was away for weeks at a time, we’d hardly talk on the phone. If we can’t be face to face, we communicate best in text– not just because we type faster than we talk and can put in emotes.
Neither of us like phones– it’s just a way to communicate. Preferably, to communicate where we can get together and actually physically interact, do all those little touches you do in friendly situations without noticing it.
I think a lot of “customer support” places have gone to software so they don’t have to train anyone, ever… and it’s cheap software. (has anyone ever solved a problem using the “help” menu?) I know a lot of the basic customer support I’ve been getting on websites makes that “I forgot to save an entire city’s votes” issue look like childplay.
For what it’s worth, on cell phones, unlimited texting plans tend to be cheaper than unlimited minutes. I know that my wife and I use text messages to dodge overbilling, but we call for proper conversations if we need them.
And the phone did in letters. My late mother whom I called regularly used to lament that she never got letters. Now I wonder why my grown children don’t call more often.
I can’t help but think life has been coarsened by technology. Have you ever read old Civil War letters home?
More letters. please!
I despise texting, since talk is quicker and clearer. But nothing like a letter to make one construct one’s thoughts and words.
If the phone is going the way of the dodo, who are all these people I see & hear who are yacking on their cell phones while checking out at the grocery store, clumsily parking their SUVs, walking down the sidewalk, etc etc?
I have a cell phone which I’ve only had for about six months; I don’t know how to text and so don’t do it; I’d rather talk on the phone or send an e-mail.
In defense of texting: I communicate with my mom several times a day– if I were near, she’d call me over to look at something. Since I’m not, before she started texting, she’d say “I wish I could show…” and go on.
Now, she takes a picture, puts some words with it, and off it flies to whatever living person she thought of on seeing it.
This woman describes the loss of her father hitting her worst when she sees something cool and, forty years after moving out, fifteen years after his death, thinks: “I’ve got to tell dad about this tonight.”
When we lived at home, we got notes. (usually on the table)
Now, we text. It’s a touch when you can’t reach.
As a lawyer I live by the mantra:
“Say it and forget it; write it and regret it”
.
I strongly prefer phone calls over email or text.
That said, I hate voice mail and love Google Voice for transcribing my voice mails. Shame I don’t feel I can use it on the business phone.
Why is an electronic conversation with voice any different from an electronic message with text? There is actually more utility with text than with voice since the conversation is retained in form.
Communication with anyone is a good thing, and while there are some losses of meaning due to a lack of inflection with text, it’s still communication. With text, we get much more done, much more quickly and can stay in touch with many people on a much more regular basis, all around the world.
I work in software and started using text messages in the late 90s because it was so much cheaper than long distance, and I had to work with people all over the world. I’ve never looked back and still find the phone more of an annoyance than a convenience when it comes to work. When it comes to family, voice only offers a convenience and a familiarity, but I don’t feel any more “in touch” with someone because I’m hearing an electronic version of their voice.
Instead of lamenting the demise of an old technology, think of the benefits we’ve gained with the advent of a new technology.
I hate getting phone calls at work, for work. I’m the local technomage, and most times people will try to make conversation or otherwise try to “butter” me up.
Just get to the freakin’ point already.
Now, sometimes that’s because they know what they want, but don’t know how to ask for it. I get that, you don’t know the jargon and you don’t want to look foolish. That’s ok, no one is actually born a technomage and intuitively groks everything tech. And part of what I do is to educate the people I serve.
Of course, you should see the looks I get when someone asks about Microsoft Excel and I say you already know more than I do about Excel, since I don’t use the program. I don’t use Excel (or much of the Office suite) but I do have and idea of who can answer the question.
I get the same look when someone asks me to Facebook them and I have to decline their generous offer because I’m don’t have a Facebook account. Just. Can’t. Accept. Their. Terms. Of. Service.
Why is an electronic conversation with voice any different from an electronic message with text?
It is a superior form of communication. Text generally doesn’t carry tone or pitch, and misconceptions can be straightened out before ill-will sets in.
The metadata is more apparent in a face-to-face conversation, but can be carried by voice. This is rarely true of text-only media.
In 172 years we have in essence managed to evolve from and back to Morse Code.
I prefer voice when it’s a conversation. I prefer text for small, individual pieces of information. I never want to “catch up” over text, but I hate the empty formalities and time wasted on the phone when all I want to do is get an address, or ask for something from the store, etc.
I agree with ninjafetus. Sometimes conversation is better, but for many things texting is a godsend.
Especially for someone like me who is not “good on the phone,” and was always inclined to just let it ring and scan the messages. Now most of those callers can just text one sentence, and I can text back – et voila, communication where there was none before.
I guess it just gives people more control over their “communication budget” or something like that. And for some people, such as myself, it has actually increased communication time rather than decreased it.
As a rule, I’m with foxfier: “I HATE the phone.” Always have. But that does not, of course, make neo’s laments off-base. I just can’t summon much emotion for the decline of the phone conversation. I’m very Dude about it.
I have always hated the phone, unless I am drunk, then I somehow feel comfortable on the thing. Pity the person I am talking to though.
One thing I do enjoy is my weekly video chats with my parents. It is almost like having them over every Friday night. Which wouldn’t really be possible in a flesh and blood kind of way, them being 3000 miles away and all.
“All too often, “customer service” has now been relegated to what is almost a battle, even for one’s request to be understood, much less answered.”
I just had an experience like this, but with email support. It took me 2 weeks of back and forths to get a question understood. 2 weeks of cut and pasted automaton responses. I was about ready to machine gun someone. Once they finally had the courtesy to actually read my email, not just scan for keywords, I had my solution in 10 minutes.
Neo wht u mn?
On a similiar vein, Some might say we are regressing going to written news reports on net instead of video on tv. But I for one prefer written news sources (preperably non-AP) over video cause there tends to be so much fluff on tv news (and I dont have cable) and I can read faster than newscasters talk….
It is interesting to experience the differences in tone and “attitude” from automated voice systems. Some are a dream (Wells Fargo comes to mind), while others sound like Nurse Ratchet (most of the phone companies). And yes, the new service commodity seems to be “dealing with people who call us” rather than solving problems that customers have.
I vote for email and face-to-face contact, plus the land line on rare occasions. I disagree with the lawyer (above) about the “risk” of the spoken v. the written word since this does anything but encourage care and civility in our communications. You can’t improve driving skills by staying on the 4-lane straightaways.
Maybe that’s why the hooking up with its emphasis on oral sex. Everyone gets to stay fully clothes and there is no need to stop texting.
Then the sharing of a post-lexic cigarette.
I’ve hated the phone ever since I had a sales job on commission, and I had to spend hours a day prospecting. For an introvert like me, callling strangers who weren’t expecting to hear from me, and having to hear “No!” again and again was worse than swallowing ground glass. I left that job after a few months (before it could have givien me an ulcer or heart condition) and found something more in keeping with my personality. For me, texting is a godsend. I send a short message, my correspondent can read it without having to talk over road noise or restaurant chatter, and I get a written reply back. Easy.
I used to love to talk on the phone, and now I loathe it. Thinking it over, it’s not because I’m less conversational than I used to be — it’s because of the phones themselves. All that technological progress has made them miserable to use.
I realize how this labels me as a crotchety old fogey, but remember the old phones? That heavy, curved receiver was comfortable in your hand, the earpiece and mouthpiece were pointed conveniently at your face to collect and direct the sound, and the twisty cord was fun to play with while you talked, even if it did knot up and limit your ability to wander while speaking. Okay, the old phones couldn’t remember your friends’ phone numbers for you, but that was easily solved by a list tacked to the wall by the phone — or scribbled on the wall itself, as I recall in more homes than one. Most of all, though, the sound of those phones was absolutely clear, loud, reliable and certain — so that a conversation at any distance could be almost as easy and relaxed as it would have been in person.
But now — now! All phones are flat, so that sound is no longer funneled in and out of the phone and people have to shout to make themselves heard, driving others nuts. The phones feel awful to hold. Cordless phones are slabs of plastic unrelated to the shape of a hand. They run out of battery life midway through the conversation, their sound is tinny and distant at best, sputtering with static if you get too far from the charger or if the phone just doesn’t feel like working that day. And then there’s the problem of finding one when you want to call somebody or when it’s ringing: the empty charger is right where it belongs, but where the heck did you leave the phone itself, last time somebody called?
As for cell phones — they’re flimsy, too easy to drop, and too little to use with ease. Compare the difficulty of trying to tap out a phone number or a text message with your fingernails on the fiddly little keyboard of a cell phone to the satisfying old-fashioned heavy pull, turn, release, clickclickclickclick of the rotary dial against your index finger. The sound on a cell phone is flat and electronic and fuzzy, apt to fade away entirely if you wander too far into the bowels of a building or over the edge of a service area. The phones are so full of tricks that they call each other up without human intervention. Last week I got a dead-silent call from my brother that scared me to death (we were in the midst of a family medical crisis) thinking some emergency had occurred too dire for speech — but it turned out to have been triggered, unbeknownst to him, by some pressure-sensitive feature on his “smart” phone as it slid around in his pocket. At least, when it happened again the next day, I knew what it was. And I won’t even get into the learning curve required by each new iteration; I don’t think I am smart enough to use a smart phone.
Oh, of course, the convenience and wizardry of the new phones is dazzling and useful; in that family medical crisis I mentioned before, the cell phones in everyone’s pockets made information-sharing instantaneous, and when cross-country family meetings were required, conference calls, speaker phones and Skype made them possible. But emergencies aside, there was something easy and intimate about conversations on the old phones that’s gone forever. For me, pleasure in using a telephone vanished when the old phones did.
My high school age daughter was a camp counselor last summer. Several months after camp ended she got a hand-written letter from one of the 12-year-old campers she supervised.
She was absolutely thrilled to receive it and marveled over the fact that this young friend took the time to sit down and share her news in her own handwriting. I think it was the first and only personal letter my text-crazy daughter has ever received.
Made me a bit sad for her and her generation, actually.
??
Your family doesn’t do thank-you letters?
Mrs Whatsit: I have solved some of those problems by always using a bluetooth, and by having a smartphone that locks in between usages to prevent butt calls (that’s the name of those phantom calls you got from your brother). I agree about the tone quality, though. I always buy the phone that gets the best reception, or try to. That’s my number one criterion for choosing a phone.
Phone conversations were never natural. A voice in your ear sounds too much like you’re nose to nose with a person to me. Letters and texting…that’s preferable for those who don’t like such intimate connections. I never answer phones, especially from people at work or colleagues. And God, I despise the phone interviews! It’s less stressful working out your thoughts on screen or paper before sending out the message.
Foxfier,
Not sure if that response was directed at me, but yes, of course our family does thank-you notes. I say notes, not letters.
That’s different than receiving a long, newsy letter from a friend.
My kids understand the importance of thank-you notes (even if I have to harangue them to do it) but their generation simply doesn’t get the letter thing. Literally or figuratively. And that’s a shame.
My husband and I had a long-distance relationship for a couple of years before we were married (mid 80s) and I treasure our letters from that era in a way that I don’t think email or texts could ever compare.
*laughs* My family required letters to say thank you. If it could fit in a blank card, it was too short!
As someone with most of the emails she and her now husband exchanged while he was on the far side of the world and in the middle of the ocean, I must of course disagree that email doesn’t measure up!
I think that both emotional attachments and manner of communicating are important in what forms of communicating one likes best– I think I mentioned up top, my family does a lot of touching and gesturing. That doesn’t work on phone, except as comic relief in the form of “… you can’t see it, but I’m waiving my arms around to show you how big it was.”
I don’t text. I write letters or postcards. But, I do like my cellphone because I can take it everywhere. I use it frequently rather than our land line. Its a wonderful invention.
IMO texting is too impersonal and truncated. Leave me a voice mail message and I’ll get back to you. Text me and I’ll ignore you.
Phones are also inherently kinda rude. They immediately demand attention from another person regardless of what they might be doing because they need to drop what they’re doing and answer immediately.
A phone call is the only way to have a conversation, but for tons of basic ‘let’s go to the pub’ casual contact stuff email, texts or facebook is both easier and more polite.
Well, speaking for myself, I’m deaf, so I VERY strongly prefer text or email over a phone call. I can use phones, but it takes much more concentration and effort for me than it does for you, so I have never been someone who makes phone calls “just to chat.”
I also hate voice mail, mostly because people have a tendency to spit out something garbled in a hurry and hang up. Have you ever listened to how most people leave their phone number? There have been many times at work when I’ve had to listen to a message 15 times just to get the callback number (it’s often different from the number in the phone’s call log), and I often have to resort to asking my coworkers to listen to the message for me.
1) It’s the NYT!?! For the most part, its readers are libtard twits. Even more ditto its commenters.
2) These things run in phases, or are overblown. Remember them regretting the demise of the long letter via snail mail? Now that that’s had time to sink in… is it really, really missed? Or has e-mail combined with things like blogs actually done the job much better by allowing much more “to-point” conversations?
I only have a hone phone because I already have a pc on 24/7 as an internet media center… so I attached a magic jack to it and have a home phone for $20 a year… otherwise, yes, I’d go cell only.
Phone calls are great for socialization or very privileged interrupts (spouse/SO, boss, customer, emergency. that pretty much encompasses the whole list).
BUT, most of the time phone calls are a power play. Sales people love phones because they are an opportunity to brow-beat and manipulate, I try not to hold back being just as rude in return. As the lawyer above notes, the other reason to use the phone is deniability, again, sales people love them because there’s no paper trail.
I frequently email vendors with something like, “can you send me the following specs for models xyz and abc, and a price quote on each with and without delivery to the following address?”
The reply, “Call me at the following number…”
I *never* call them, they just told me all I need to know about their product and their company.