_________________________________________________________________
VOLUME 5, ISSUE 1 PSYCHNEWS INTERNATIONAL July 2000
-- AN ONLINE PUBLICATION --
_________________________________________________________________
SECTION B: GUEST EDITORIAL
JUST AS LONG AS THEY SPELL MY NUMBER RIGHT
Joseph E. Trimble, Ph.D.
Let me share with you a little story, some observations
about a few things that are affecting our lives right now, and a
suggestion for you to consider in the years that wait for you.
When I was a young child, about 50 years or so years ago,
I spent many of my weekends and much of my summer vacation at
my grandparent's farmhouse. Located way out in the country and
surrounded by open, grassy fields, the home provided me with
wonderful experiences and left me with fond memories. Let me
share one of those memories with you.
At the time, my grandparents did not have a telephone nor
did any other home in the local community. In fact, the only
telephone in the country setting was located on the wall next
to the front doors right inside Pop Horn's General Store. Pop
Horn's store was the village centerpiece, as all community
activity seemed to occur there. The store had everything that
anyone needed and if it did not old Pop Horn would find it for
you. Everything imaginable -- at least in the eyes of a ten-year
old boy --was piled from the ceiling to the floor and crammed on
shelves separated by four narrow aisles. It was our mall as it
was the only place for youngsters and everyone else for that
matter to gather, meet, talk, and visit. The elders were always
there sitting on the front porch greeting everyone as they
walked up from the dusty road onto the wooden porch. We always
felt welcomed there.
Occasionally, I used the telephone to call some of my
childhood friends who were fortunate enough to have telephones
in their home. To make a call I had to stand on a small stool to
reach the old wooden telephone. It was a crank-up type -- the
kind where you had to lift the hearing piece off its hook, turn
the handle rapidly a few times, and then speak loudly into a
separate black mouthpiece. After I would crank up the telephone
my Aunt Millie, the sole village operator, would come on the
line and asked for the number I wanted to call.
One day I remember asking her to connect me with 354 and
she said, "Well, Joseph, that's the Campbell house and if you're
trying to get hold of Willie, he's not home today as the family
went over to the Bordeaux house for a visit. Do you want me to
call over there?" I asked her if she would please do that.
Minutes later I was talking to Willie and Aunt Millie no doubt
listened in as she always did when she was not busy connecting
folks to other telephones. Aunt Millie was the eyes, ears, and
conscience of the village. She heard just about everything that
went on over the telephone lines and hence most folks were very
careful with the content of their conversations. We all knew she
listened in.
She was a very kind, generous woman and everyone in the
village respected her and liked her. In addition, we all knew
that she was related to everyone in some form or another so we
had to mind our manners when we were around her.
Aunt Millie passed away many years ago. In some ways, her
passing symbolically signaled the end of a user-friendly
telephone system. Along with the passing of the old system, an
end came to the friendly, helpful voice on the other end of the
telephone. Aunt Millie's friendly voice now has been replaced
with digitized sounds configured to sound like a human voice--
it does not work for me! Instead of dialing up names and
numbers, we now dial in strings of numbers. If we make credit
card calls, we could punch in as many as 40 separate numbers.
Now many of us know what happens when we finally reach the
number and no one answers. We are electronically directed to
another voice that tells us to pay attention to yet another list
of numbers. We then hear something like the following from an
emotionally flat voice: press 1 for this and that, or press 2
for something else, or press 3 for another feature and the
number of options goes on until we decide what to do. Usually,
after we decide what to do, we are asked to press another number
on the touch-tone pad to make sure we did what we thought we
wanted to do.
Occasionally we make phone calls to obtain directory
assistance, order something from a mail order catalog, or
request assistance concerning some problem with our computers.
After punching in a series of numbers, we hear a digitized
voice asking us yet again for more numbers. Our patience is
tested as we are asked to select from an array of numerical
combinations and punch in what we hope is the right sequence of
numbers. Sometimes the voice will ask us for the numerical code
on the back of the catalog -- our names will not do as they just
want the number code outlined in "light blue." Then following
that we are asked to provide them with our postal code -- all of
the numbers, please, and then the voice asks us if we live in
Bellingham, Washington. Of course I do, all the while wondering
what would have happen if I gave the voice the wrong number
sequence. Often, another digitized voice will come on line and
inform us that the call may be monitored for quality assurance.
Now Aunt Millie would love that line. Once the voice asked me
what my number was then corrected itself by saying, "Oops, I
apologize as I really meant to ask you for your name." After
providing my name, the voice said that my name's number was so-
and-so. Often when calling someone we are routed to voice mail
and we hear another voice indicating that so-and-so is busy so
please leave a message. Have you ever noticed? Every time you
return the calls on your answering machine, you get an answering
machine.
Not too long ago, when we called someone we received a busy
signal and we knew what that meant or no one answered and we
knew what that meant, too. Pretty simple. With all of the
numbers swirling about concerning our personal lives, I sure
hope they spell my number correctly and I would hope that is the
case for you, too.
Indeed, we now live in world of "number clutter" where it
seems that every piece of personal information has been
digitized and carefully organized to fit a numerical sequence.
The emergence of "number cluttering" can be directly laid at the
feet of the mushrooming, ever-present computer industry. In
fact, the entire telecommunications industry is totally
dependent on numbers -- digital mania surrounds us, consumes, and
directs most of our daily lives.
About a month ago, I boarded a flight in Seattle en route
to Washington, DC, a trip I make several times a year. After the
big Boeing 757 took off through the rain clouds I observed some-
thing I hadn't seen before and I believe it's connected to
"number creep" and "digital mania." No sooner had the flight
attendant announced that it was OK to turn on laptop computers I
noticed that almost everyone around me reached under their seats
for their small computers and almost in unison I heard a caco-
phony of beeps and the corresponding clicking and chirping of
keyboard sounds. The man next to me grabbed the airphone from
the middle seat, plugged it into his computer, and in an instant
was connected to his office. He looked at me with a sheepish
grin and said that he wouldn't dare go anywhere without his lap-
top, printer, fax machine, cellular telephone, and pager, all of
which were proudly displayed on his tray table. "I'm connected
to the world," he said with a smirk. I nodded and wondered if he
had a family or close friends and if the only thing they talked
about was their electronic gadgets. When the plane leveled off,
I decided to stroll down the aisle and count the number of
passengers who were engrossed in their laptops - much to my
amazement most were.
The growing obsession with the computer and numbers is not
restricted to airline passengers. I know several close
colleagues who get out of bed at about 5:00 AM, fix themselves a
strong cup of one of Seattle's many coffee blends, and then
spend the next two to three hours in front of the blinking eye
on the computer screen. Then they dress and drive to their other
office on campus and spend most of the day in front of their
office computers. Then they drive home and after dinner they
settle in front of the screen again and continue whatever it was
they doing earlier in the day. Moreover, they tell me they do
this seven days a week.
The computer industry and some of my social science
colleagues have been examining computer use practices at home
and in the office. I am told that the typical worker now works
48 hours a week in the office. Many workers also report that
they spend considerable time at home working on their computers
so the 48-hour week is likely considerably longer. The data
suggest that what was once a 9 to 5 economy has expanded to 24 -
7 -- 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. Quitting time seemingly
does not exist anymore. When business and industry close up
their doors at 5:00 pm we now can go home, log on, and spend as
much time as we want "on the computer" as just about everything
is seemingly available to us through the Internet. We can even
log on to "chat rooms" and discuss all sorts of topics with
folks from the Four Corners of the planet. Apart from what is
called "Internet wait" and the limits of modem speeds, we have
almost instantaneous access to people, places and things. An
"office" is anywhere you want it to be as long as there is
access to a telephone connection or a satellite.
For those wedded to the use of pagers, cellular telephones,
and computers, life has become considerably more complex and
engaging. Everyone seems to be busy, too, and I am reasonably
certain that the telecommunication industry is partially
responsible for it. I have noticed that when I ask someone on
campus or in the halls "How are you doing these days?" instead
of saying something like "fine" or "fair to midland," or "not
too well, today" colleagues and friends now quickly say "I'm
really busy." Sometimes I'll hear colleagues say to others, "I'm
busy, too." We are busy, as the reply to such questions seems to
suggest that one is so busy that they do not have the time to
stop and chat. Until recently I rarely heard someone complain
about having too much to do in their daily lives and using that
as an excuse to run back to their office to spend more time in
front of their computers.
I can understand some of what is going on. Before the
advent of email, I received about 12 or so long distance calls
a day now I probably receive 2 or 3 a week. Actually, I am more
involved in national and international professional affairs then
I was ten years ago so I could expect to receive more calls. My
telephone calls now have been replaced with email messages and I
get about 100 or so of them a day and a good half of the
messages ask for something or other and the sender wants an
answer immediately. Many of them just have to wait.
Not too long ago many North Americans were preoccupied with
"keeping up with the Jones's" and now we must keep up with the
Ishiwaras, Kims, McAlesters, Brochauses, Guerreros, Yangs,
Milicics, Luigis, and Amundsons fueled by our need to keep up
with the pace of the computer and telecommunication industries.
The pace has picked up in recent years and many people are not
real certain what their boundaries are as some actually push
themselves to fatigue. Not too long ago one of my colleagues was
found fast asleep at 6:00 AM in his office with his face
resting on the keyboard. His nose was resting on the "L" key and
his computer screen was printing out an endless stream of "L's."
As many more people worldwide become immersed in the computer
world and their communication tools they are unwittingly cutting
themselves off from physical contact with others including
friends and family. Sitting in front of the screen is a solitary
experience. Many simply do not want to have any one around to
annoy or disturb them. "Can't you see I'm on the computer so
leave me alone right now" is becoming a common household and
office phrase. I am deeply concerned about this development, as
I believe it does not promote healthy relationships with one's
friends, colleagues, partners, spouses, and family members.
There appears to be a "disconnect" going on in our relationships
with others.
For almost 30 years, I have been interested in psycho-
logical well-being and how it influences the choices we make in
our lives. Much of my work has been dedicated to the choices we
make that negatively affect our sense of well-being and our
health. Some of my colleagues recently made a startling
discovery concerning the importance and influence of personal
relationships and well-being. In a series of carefully
controlled studies they found that the mental and physical
health of certain individuals was substantially improved by
merely having someone physically around to talk to. In fact, the
researchers found that the mere presence of others can actually
improve the body's immune system. Moreover, they found that
laughter alone played a major role in regulating the body's
metabolism.
I know that it is tempting to be consumed by the many
advantages provided by computers and all of their attachments.
They are indeed the wonders of the decade and they serve a very
useful service. Nonetheless, I want to leave you with this
suggestion. Set aside some time during the day to actually
physically visit with friends and colleagues to laugh, discuss
world events, tell stories, or you could even talk about how
much rain we get in the Pacific Northwest of the United States.
In addition, when you do, please leave your pager and cellular
phone somewhere else and turn off your computer. The messages
will be there when you return.
Joseph E. Trimble, Ph.D., is professor at the Center for
Cross-Cultural Research and the Department of Psychology
of Western Washington University. He is also current president
of the Society for the Psychological Study of Ethnic Minority
Issues, Division 45 of the American Psychological Association.
In September 2000, he will begin an appointment as a fellow
at Harvard University, Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study.
Email: trimble@cc.wwu.edu
(after 15 September 2000: trimble@radcliffe.edu)
_________________________________________________________________