
I’ve noticed a subtle debate taking place in the business world (call it a dialogue for now) about e-mail — how we write them and how much they can/should communicate. E-mail is a great invention. Remember the days before e-mail? To many people all forms of written communication existing before e-mail became irrelevant the day they first logged onto “cc:mail” (or whatever archaic application showed up on their IBM PC way back whenever).
The prevalence of e-mail has been challenged over the years by other forms of electronic communications such as paging, chat, texting, micro blogging, etc. But, let’s face it, e-mail still rules in business. It satisfies a number of needs: it provides us with a tool for nearly instantaneous communications and it allows us to communicate with just about anyone, including perfect strangers (without the invasiveness or apprehension of in-person or phone conversations). We can fire-and-forget without the “on-the-spot” performance anxiety of voice mail.) And, best of all, we can scan messages quickly and weed through the noise just as fast, helping to make our days and our lives more efficient.
The sheer volume of information we can share via e-mail is astounding. To some this is a curse. But as time passes and the business world slowly forgets about artifacts like memos, handwritten letters and personal stationery, this exponential increase in information becomes the norm. Again, is it a blessing or a curse? (By the way, handwritten communications are still with us — when was the last time everyone at the office signed a happy birthday e-mail??)
E-mail, despite its value to humanity, has its share of problems too. To start, there’s lots of junk. Thank god for that imperfect yet still highly valuable tool that lets us send messages directly to our junk folders. It can also be impersonal. I, for one, used to like getting the occasional handwritten note on personal
note paper. E-mail can become an obsession for many people. Everyone knows at least a dozen “CrackBerry heads” who can’t keep their hands off their cell phones when they know they’ve got messages waiting. We also know the people who leave a meeting and say, “Let me run to the office and grab that document,” only to return in fifteen minutes because they couldn’t resist checking (and answering) e-mail. E-mail can be annoying, but it’s a way of life at work. Our cultures and behavior are greatly influenced by e-mail and the velocity of information it generates.
But, e-mail’s biggest flaw is in the way it can fail to communicate — the one thing it was invented to help us do better. E-mail messages often create gross misunderstandings between two parties. I’m not referring to lack of good writing skills. Although prevalent and the subject of a future post, this problem has existed since we learned to paint on cave walls, e.g., “Thor, the buffalo goes AFTER the stick figure of a hunter!!” Actually, what I’m talking about is tone. The Wikipedia entry on tone defines it as 1. the manner in which the author uses words to convey a mood or, 2. the pitch and pitch changes in words of certain languages. Tone provides emotion and inflection to language. Without it we’d all talk like Keanu Reeves. Over time the tone we use becomes our verbal fingerprint — our own individual stamp on the way we communicate. Tone is uniquely human, just like language itself.
If used haphazardly, tone can misrepresent, hurt feelings and light the spark that leads to general mayhem. Unfortunately, since we are human (right?) we often get tone wrong when we speak to one another. However, when communicating verbally, our messages, and the tone they carry, are fleeting. We want to say something and we say it. Words come and go often faster than we can process what was said and how we said it. We (mostly) don’t get hung up on poor tone. In-person or on the phone we receive other important cues, such as visible stress levels, competing conversations, crowded environments, etc., that help us explain away unsettling or misplaced tone. When communicating verbally we also have the instantaneous ability to correct tonal errors, such as, “What I meant to say was this …” or “Sorry, that was the wrong tone.”
What about written communications? Is tone important here? Yes! Novelists, essayists, copywriters, reporters, speechwriters and anyone else who writes for a living knows the importance of tone. Pulitzer Prizes have been won by writers who used tone more than language to convey their stories. Think Hemingway. Even when casually writing a letter or a note inside a greeting card, we seem to understand the importance of tone in our message. So why then, readers, do we have such a hard time getting tone right when we compose e-mails?
Ever send a report to a client or a boss via e-mail and receive a message back like this:
“I got your report. Call me.”
Very efficient. Very articulate. Hard to miss both the message and the call to action. But if you’re like most people (me included) it’s not what the message says that bothers us, but what we think it may (or may not) mean. What is this message really telling us:
A. “I got the report you sent me and read it. I like it a lot and would like to tell you that in person.”
B. “I got the report you sent me and read it. I like it but have a few questions about it.”
C. “I got the report you sent me and read it. You’ve missed the mark and we need to go over it again.”
D. “I got the report you sent me but have not had the chance to read it yet. Let’s go over it together.”
E. Any other interpretation driven by the insecurity, fear and self-hatred created by our deeply flawed human condition.
Here’s one I received just the other day. Nothing else in the e-mail:
“Where are we with the project? I need to answer some questions around here.”
Immediately I gulped and began to doubt things I knew to be the truth, such as the project is on time and under budget, we have received clear direction and positive interim feedback just a few days ago, we have been communicating progress biweekly as previously scoped, I’m a good guy, husband and father, my parents love me, my fly is zipped, etc. Of course I dropped what I was doing, called the right people internally, learned what I needed and “penned” off a response that resembled a full status update. Hit the send button.
Received a message back:
“Thanks. I was just wondering what may have changed since Tue so I have the latest.”
Sigh.
So why don’t we pay attention to tone in e-mail and why do we read tone into an e-mail that is devoid of it?
Because that’s what we do. We can’t help it. And seriously, God help us as a species if we begin not to care. We got the big brains and have been trained over eons to use it. We are creative creatures and interpretation is one of the things we get to do differently than every other animal. It’s a privilege really.
Let’s go back to this this earlier example:
“I got your report. Call me.”
What if, instead, it was written like this:
“I liked your report. Call me.”
It’s a simple word change resulting in a dramatically different tone. Now our brains are interpreting the requested call to action not as a negative event, e.g., a beatin’, but rather, any number of constructive, positive events. We still don’t know exactly what the content of the call will be, but we feel a lot better about making it. Life is good. We are motivated. Even if the e-mail called out a flaw in the report, we still have a better sense of what to expect and that is way better than the great unknown.
There’s an entire field of thought about how the business world spends too much time drafting and reading e-mail, and how the prescription for curing this waste is to write short, curt and to-the-point messages. I am all for spending less time drafting and reading e-mail, and agree with most of this thinking. Notice, however, the value that was added by changing a single word. No efficiency lost. Indeed, I believe it created it. Ignoring tone when drafting e-mail messages may seem safe but the very lack of it can create obfuscation and delay.
And we don’t have to be Hemingway when we draft e-mail messages either … wait … let’s see …
“It was all as I had left it except that now it was spring. Can discuss at 3:00 EST. Will send meeting request.”
Not bad.
-Dave Goldberg