Email as ballistic text

I use email a lot. Today has been a typical day... I received over 200 emails from colleagues. I sent over 100 to colleagues. (I don't bother counting spam or quasi-spam opted-in emails from companies.) And it seems like every day I observe an exchange (or am directly involved in one) that results in a misunderstanding of some degree.

It's odd, isn't it? Email is text. Text is objective. Not like the spoken word, which can wiggle and twist. Text should be perfect for communication... Text is there on the page, firm and grounded.

And therein lies the rub. The text is immobile... and when it zips through the ether, it is, quite literally ballistic. It's flight vector determined by a few moves of fingers tapping keys.

Text can't look at the reader, sense how it's being received, and then alter its course. Nope, not text in an email. It careens forward... without regard for its context and without regard for its reader. It goes where it goes and lands where it lands. Fire and cringe, if you're not careful.

Static text is great when one wants to preserve some status quo... like a contract... like a law. For communicating a nuanced concept to a person (or group of people), it's not so good.

Of course, given various constraints, I must frequently use email... So what do I do? All of this is all the more reason to take my time and imagine myself as the reader... and then to imagine "what's the absolute worst way in which this could be interpreted?" And then write to prevent that from happening. This can lead to notes that are lengthy and ponderous, all the more reason to practice my writing.

But in all honesty, when I really want to be heard, I do my best to find an opportunity to pick up the phone and talk. (Or even, gasp, go visit... but that's another topic.)