2009 Plain English Speaking Award Finalists' Speeches
Alexandra Patrikios - Ballarat and Clarendon College
Anti-Social Etiquette
Ladies and gentlemen, before I begin my address today, I would like to remind you to please turn your mobile phones off. Turn them off, and consider a time when communication meant contact, and this (face) was the easiest way to get a message across. And, whether we liked it or not, it (face) couldn’t be put on silent. We may not be consciously aware of it, but we are constantly emitting and receiving signals. Some signals, like an arched eyebrow, say, ‘Really? You like that one?’ Others, such as the ever-popular tight and toothless grin say, ‘I do remember your name – just not right now.’ And some signals are somewhat more direct, such as the established one-fingered salute. That’s a signal with no need for translation.
Research shows that human interaction is 30 per cent verbal, 70 per cent non-verbal. Body language, with all its subtleties and twitches, is the strongest measure of communication. But in our technological age, are we losing our understanding of the unspoken word? Have the rules of social etiquette, combined with a few extra wires and video link-ups, changed forever? Well, let’s consider the accused in detail – technology. The world we live in plays an important role in determining how we interact. Our environment is increasingly dominated by multifunctional means of communication, but can we still – to exhaust the metaphor – pick up all frequencies on our internal telecommunications tower?
Blackberries, iPhones and paging devices aside, the best satellite response system is stationed within our instinctive recesses – perhaps now, after decades of holding a mirror up to our interactive judgment, we possess only a reflection of our earlier ability. Now the words, ‘Your boyfriend’s a hack’ come tumbling out a moment too late, when once, a subtle bristle would have sufficed to make you bite your tongue. Exhibit A – impaired judgment of social circumstance, and failure to adhere to the laws of social etiquette. Social faux pas aside, current technology allows for something spontaneous interaction never could – editing. An involuntary shudder once spelt disaster for speed-daters and diplomats alike, but nowadays a well-timed ‘Poke!’ on Facebook can be the cornerstone of any friendly liaison. Exhibit B – the Internet friendship – no actual contact being the only prerequisite for a firm bond.
But does immediacy of communication mean we’re actually more connected than ever? Or is it that we’re all so obsessed with narrating our own existence, and making others witness to it through text messages and the like? Because if it’s written and read, an SMS can be a subconscious way of saying – I was here. On the other hand, technology has created a permanence that the grapevine never could, and like it or not, everyone is a publisher these days. You never know, ten years from now, you might just find yourself in the Price Waterhouse Cooper boardroom discussing your revolutionary ideas about human resources, when a devious colleague produces a decade old picture of you – dressed as Kermit the Frog – splayed unconscious on the lawn of the local bowls club – blocking tries by the regional retiree champion. There it is, 20 years of schooling and 40 grand in HECS fees, for nothing.
And so, Exhibit C – the misjudged attempt at personal promotion that only stops you from getting one. But there’s no better example of technology changing the way we communicate than that of texting. It’s completely shifted the way we interact from the immediate to the removed, from near to far. One day I was sitting with a friend, and I have to admit, it was an impressive sight. Carefully manoeuvering her fingers across her Motorola Razr, my friend used her other hand to reach inside her blazer and retrieve a second, this time Nokia, mobile. All this activity occurred without a glance away from the screen; a memorised series of motions and effects. When I asked her about certain skin aliments, visible as her thumbs clicked across the keypad, I received a sheepish confession.
‘They’re SMS calluses.’
Exhibit D – grievous bodily harm. What a world we live in, where a young girl can be struck down by a case of ‘texting-calluses’ and choose the value of information based on a service provider.
Ah, but at the heart of the prosecution’s case is – the very pinnacle of social ritual – courtship. Indeed, in the personal field as well as the professional one, technology has changed the rules of play. Courtship has become a different game altogether, with the involving process of pouring over meticulously phrased love letters abandoned for hasty constructions like, ‘wub chu’. Ramifications of this include, namely, less decisive interpretation; for example; time spent deliberating his gratuitous use of emoticons: 14 minutes vs. time required to determine his compulsive lip-smacking as a cause of concern: three seconds.
Ultimately, it must be remembered that technology is a weapon, and the best use is conditional use. So send a politely worded email to that guy at the office who always jams the photocopier. And if that doesn’t get through, reactivate his instinctive recesses – beginning with some of the more familiar ‘gestures’, just so you know he’s getting the signal.
