ON IMPRUDENT COMMUNICATION by Judith Martin

    To Miss Manners' mystification, otherwise sensible people are
still citing "lack of communication" as the source of all human
strife and recommending "more open, honest communication" as the
solution to our earthly trials.
    As if we hadn't spent the last several decades listening to
the entire population freely, honestly, easily, openly and
spontaneously communicating its every twinge of ill temper. What
do the promoters of ever-more communication imagine is being held
back?
    Is it really something we want to hear?
    Miss Manners, in contrast, is alarmed that information
technology (for which she is grateful every day of her life) has
inadvertently increased the public danger of being hit by
barrages of uncharitable frankness. There are too many people
with itchy fingers on the SEND key.
    She shall have to put a restriction on the use of e-mail,
even though she thinks it the best means of quick communication
since the pony express. (Never did much care for the telephone.)
New tools require new rules.
    E-mail has the great advantage of not having to be fed,
although Miss Manners has to give hers a reassuring pat now and
then to get it going. But its speed has done away with the old
built-in time lags in which to think the communication through,
put it in more diplomatic terms, or decide that expressing it
will create more trouble than satisfaction.
    Here is her ruling:
    No heavy emotions may be properly communicated through e-mail
-- not to acquaintances, and certainly not to strangers. Flaming,
as it is called when vicious messages are unleashed on e-mail, is
the written equivalent of shouting at passersby in the street and
should be similarly ignored. E-mail attempts at achieving
intimacy are the equivalent of an even worse kind of street
remark and should be reported.
    But even an e-mailer's intimates, who may be grateful to
receive a reaffirmation of previously declared affection, or
employees, who may not be grateful to receive measured criticism
but at least are not surprised, must be protected from attacks
lobbed at them through their own computers. Emotional bombs,
including, but not limited to, "Will you marry me?" "I'm
leaving," "I'm pregnant" or "You're fired" should not be dropped
through the e-mail.
    Miss Manners' anxiety arises from her recognition that
otherwise polite human beings may occasionally go into a frenzy
of anger or of love or a lethal mixture of the two. She is also
aware that such passions are inevitably accompanied by the
delusion that zinging pithy words will produce remorse, desire,
guilt, romantic longing, shame, fear or determination to reform
in the object of the message.
    This unfortunate idea has been known to attack normally mild
people and make them let out streams of sarcasm or unwarranted
sentimentality. Neither has a high success rate.
    Prudent people eventually learn this and, unable to control
the outpouring of unattractive threats or pleas for pity, at
least force themselves to let rash letters sit overnight to be
reconsidered in the morning. The most fortunate are able to
consult with trusted friends -- who lock them in their rooms
until the urge to make fools of themselves subsides.
    Even the imprudent and the friendless used to have the
advantage of an enforced waiting period. When it was necessary to
dip the quill, powder the paper, and probably set the letter on
fire while sealing it, making it necessary to start all over
again; and when there was no use rushing off with the results
because there would be a wait before the message would be picked
up from post box or out box anyway, there was a natural
cooling-off period.
    Not enough of one, of course. A lot of communications still
got through that eventually caused regret to their communicators,
as well as to those on the receiving end. But now the message is
no sooner thought than sent -- and often to more people than
intended. You can't burn a letter that's already out burning
others.
    The more emotional the content, the more cumbersome should be
the means of conveying it. Highly emotional communications are
best made in person, where the effect can be assessed and the
message tempered to the reaction.
    It is true that they may also be made effectively by letter,
if great care is taken over the wording and choosing of paper and
ink. Even typing a message in letter form on the computer takes
some time to format and print on the right paper. With the
unfortunate demise of the typewriter repair shop, Miss Manners
can hardly think of putting a stop to that.