Recently, we were involved in a project that involved reaching out to dozens of officials in cities across the United States. As you might expect, we did this through an e-mail volley – carefully sending out the e-mails one at a time to avoid them appearing to be potential spam.
But the responses were far fewer than we had anticipated. So, we sent out another volley and got a few more. Our problem was that we had little idea of whether the e-mails were reaching the desired recipients.
Our solution: We set about a time-consuming process of finding phone numbers and calling directly (and, by the way, given the concern about privacy, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to find phone numbers on websites).
We reached a handful of people directly and for others we left messages. Within a couple of days we had made contact with many of the people we had been chasing electronically.
In a day when e-mails and text messages seem to rule the world of interpersonal contact, this process reminded us of a far simpler time, when everybody used old-fashioned telephones to make contact. It certainly was more time-consuming than sending out e-mails, but also was often more effective. For one thing, phone calls weren’t caught in spam filters. Beyond that, when an assistant, secretary or the actual source answered the phone, you could be pretty sure that you had actually reached the right office.
This isn’t the only instance in which we miss an earlier time, when people kept their list of contacts on Rolodexes full of phone numbers.

Another one is linked to the dependence on using Zoom and other visual platforms in order for people to make personal contact. We always give our public sector sources the option of meeting online or on the phone, and they almost always select the former.
We get it, kind of. It’s pleasant seeing a person’s face and getting a sense that people will get to know one another better when they can see them on their computer screens. But how many times have you arranged for a video meeting only to find yourself frustrated?
If your experience is anything like ours, this happens quite a bit of the time.
For example, we’ve experienced repeated online meetings in which, for reasons nobody understands, one party or the other can’t be heard or seen. Sometimes people have just left themselves muted or for other reasons the audio doesn’t work or in mid-sentence, the person freezes entirely. Sometimes, everybody just gives up and reaches for a phone. The transition often takes time. And when we’re speaking with public officials who rarely have a minute to lose, it just abbreviates the total conversation.
Then there are the instances in which one of the parties is running a little late. If people were using telephones, then the party waiting for the call can get some work done, send out e-mails, or do paperwork. But when you’re tied into a screen, awaiting for the arrival of another person, pretty much all you can do effectively is stare at your own image while waiting for somebody else to pop up.
When we’ve been hanging around online for more than five or ten minutes, we send an e-mail asking (far more politely than we feel) if the appointment is still on.
And the answer to that question leads us to another way that we think that new technologies can stand in the way of progress. With great frequency the answer to our outreach is an apology that puts the blame on the person’s lost email, spam folder or digital calendar.
We know this dates us, but we keep our calendar on a long, long Microsoft word file that we double check regularly. People tell us we’re inefficient, but we’re hanging onto something that works. And we don’t miss appointments. (Hardly ever, anyhow.)
We can’t honestly say that the use of e-mail, texts and online video conversations haven’t been a good thing overall. But in a reversal of the words in Joni Mitchell’s beautiful song Both Sides Now, “Well something’s lost but something’s gained.”
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