The Joy of Text

The evolution of languages – including texting – is an inevitable feature of human societies and while we can lament some changes, we live in a world of change and like it or not we need to adapt and educate, rather than deny.

I had imagined that adaption means being aware of the choices we make when we use different discourses; and choosing the right ones for the right occasions and the right people. But I have come to think that my approach might be little too negative and perhaps even reactionary, because while choosing the right approach is is an important matter, some new media present genuinely different opportunities for conversation. I’m thinking of texting here (not so new of course, but these changes take years to ripple through society) – and I surprise myself because my skepticism of the value of texting for anything beyond basic information was only slightly less than my in-principle irritation of Twitter/X.

I remain a Twitter/X-skeptic (for many reasons), but this TED talk from Nancy Lublin was, for me, totally compelling. She points out that the apparent vices of anonymity, distance, and facelessness of texting can be virtues; that they can be precisely the reasons that we can sometimes open up new, profound and vital conversations; conversations that are otherwise too intimate, painful and hard to face. In particular, she is talking about conversations that are not mediated by embarrassment, tears, or fears when they are conducted by texted rather than in person. You see, Ms Lublin runs texting helplines across the USA, and has been collecting data about who texts for help when, in what circumstances. She notes we spike everyday at lunch time — kids are sitting at the lunch table and you think that she’s texting the cute boy across the hall, but she’s actually texting us about her bulimia. And we don’t get the word “like” or “um” or hyperventilating or crying. We just get facts.

So it seems that people may be more likely to seek help by text than by phone, or face-to-face. Perhaps it’s because in text you don’t need to speak, and can use pared-down texting language, or simply the tech-mediated feel that mobile technology brings. These features can sometimes bring out the worst, but here they seems to be the very things that enable people in distress to be more honest than they can otherwise manage. In any case, the reason doesn’t really matter. If people can only reach out for help in this way, then that matters. We have to meet people where they are, not where we are.

I’ve learnt that perhaps foregrounding face-to-face conversations over other modes of communication isn’t always as good a principle as I had thought, and I’m trying to be a little more flexible. Now when a student emails (emails are a little different, but I think the same may apply) I’ll try not to react with my usual please come and see me in person until I have made some space for disclosures that might not otherwise emerge. Similarly for my own kids. That’s not to say that the face-to-face will be supplanted, or to be naive about the limitations of remote conversation. But it is to be open to virtues and well as vices; and to recognise that what works for adults may not be right for children.

In Victorian times, people wondered if it was disgraceful to chat on the telephone while not fully dressed. Times change. Adults and children face new and more profound challenges and our goal should be to identify and bridge communication gaps in ways that will be different and perhaps not natural or comfortable. For better or worse, the landscape of human interaction is changing; so must our responses.