Mightier than the Sword

Source: American Libraries, Oct2001, Vol. 32 Issue 9, p124, 1p, 1c

Author(s): Manley, Will

Section: Will's World

MIGHTIER THAN THE PEN

Many, many years ago in college I had a roommate named Ralph who had a high-intensity personality. I haven't kept up with him, but if he hasn't died of a massive stroke or heart attack it's my guess that he's on daily blood-pressure medication. Basically, he seethed with rage.

He raged against the war in Vietnam, he raged against racism, he raged against air pollution, he raged against farmers who treated migrant workers like slaves, he raged against the Chicago Cubs, and he raged against professors who did not give him an "A."

When his rage got out of control he did one of two things. He either tore apart our dorm room, or he went down to the student lounge and banged out angry notes on the piano. This was good therapy because he was a classically trained pianist. His rage on the piano was always quite dramatic. Every time I hear Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, I automatically think of Ralph. He played it with great intensity and surprising skill.

Tearing apart the dorm room, on the other hand, was only destructive. If there was a redeeming value to these tantrums, it was that in the process of cleaning up we got rid of some empty pizza boxes and other unwanted artifacts of dorm life.

I bring all of this up because whenever I see a staff member pounding away passionately at the computer keyboard I think of Ralph. Usually it's not even seeing; it's hearing. When someone really rolls into a royal rage you can hear the pounding of the keyboard from five cubicles away. I cringe to think of what is being composed in that force field of negative energy. It's the little things that occur in the everyday library workplace that create the thunder, lightning, and hurricanes of organizational havoc. I have seen something as relatively mundane as a denied vacation day set off the sparks of infuriation. When something more unpleasant like a negative evaluation occurs, get out the sandbags because a flood of vituperation is sure to flow.

What is it about e-mail that brings out our crudest instincts? The old saying goes that the pen is mightier than the sword; if so, then the personal computer is a 20-megaton bomb compared to the pen. When my roommate was playing Beethoven to relieve stress, I would take up a fountain pen to unload mine. How therapeutic it was to grab that fat old Parker Brothers pen and run it across a plain-white page with the abandon of a 2-year-oldwielding an extra-thick crayon.

Typically, I would launch my grievances against the world in the form of a letter to someone really important like a university provost, corporation executive, or a U.S. president. Fortunately, the damage I did to myself and others by creating these tempestuous diatribes was quite minimal. By the time ! found the correct address and located the appropriate stamp, my anger would subside and I would realize how silly my tirade really was and unceremoniously throw the epistle into the nearest trash receptacle.

But even if I were able to sustain my anger through the posting process, it would always dawn on me later that my agitated handwriting was about as decipherable as a Jackson Pollack painting. The final fail-safe was the fact that even if some secretary in some distant corporate or government office could decode my hieroglyphics, she was simply one lonely pair of eyes who would see me as more an object of pity than a source of annoyance.

Unfortunately, e-mail has none of those checks and balances. We get mad, we pound away at the keyboard, we produce a pistol of purple prose, we point it directly at its intended target, we carbon copy it to half the world, and then for good measure we blind-copy it to the other half. Then we click "send." In a frenzied span of 15 minutes we have managed to do some real psychological damage, usually more to ourselves than to anyone else.

When commentators ponder why our society has become so uncivil, they should reflect on the power of email to disrupt and destroy our personal and working relationships.

Next time you feel a rage to pound away at something, stay away from the computer and head for the piano.

WILL MANLEY has furnished provocative commentary on the library profession for over 20 years. The opinions in Will's World belong solely to its denizens and do not necessarily reflect ALA policy.

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Source: American Libraries, Oct2001, Vol. 32 Issue 9, p124, 1p

Item: 5287605