A feature of old-stick-in-the-mud-ism is to deplore what the world is coming to.
The world has come to social media. I don't deplore it. It's a wonderful thing, to join the ambient reality of another human being's experience of life, to have immediate access to their insights and perceptions, to invite them to join in yours. And I'm old enough to remember that prescient McLuhan phrase about a "global village."
Here we are.
One small problem: We the villagers have lost sight of a community's dearest value and commodity. We've forgotten what it means to be civil.
We use social media as a hedge to hide behind, to launch commentary that exalts those who agree with us, and shames or excoriates those who do not. It's easy to search and find punditry and stats that support our opinions; much harder to convene opposing viewpoints and agendas, and discern common ground.
Today, public discourse is more polarized and rancorous than most Baby Boomers have ever known, yet this democracy was based on our willingness and ability to hold public discourse, whether that occurred in a town square or a Facebook thread.
Without civility, we become not merely savage (eg, the bullying of bus monitor Karen Klein), but accepting of — and inured to — savagery. We adapt and learn to avoid those who disagree or challenge us, right when we could be learning from each other. We reTweet for respect because it's far easier to press the RT icon than to actually practice civility — day-to-day and face-to-face — with that colleague or neighbor who irks us because their beliefs run antithetical to our own.
Glibly we talk about love ("our hearts and prayers go out to..."), about coming together as an American family, and embrace each other at candelight vigils for the dead, but we won't afford each other the most common courtesies in the routine run of a day. (Or, as a friend of mine put it: "Given the guys I work with, sometimes it's like death by douchebag.")
Basic courtesy is a rational act of love — for yourself, your self-respect, as a functional villager. It's an act of love for your fellow villager, your family, your community. So while reTweeting for respect and sharing anti-violence memes on Facebook, why not ramp up a couple other actions?
Hold the door open for someone else. Give up your seat on the subway to someone who maybe needs it more. Don't walk away from the copier with the paper jam you just caused. React to inflammatory behaviors with restraint, not insult or denigration. Understand that someone who disagrees with your opinion likely has an intensely personal experience of the same issue — and that is worth respecting. Choose not to shun, goad, provoke, or even to raise your voice. Articulate your disagreement not with name-calling, but with facts, figures, compassion, and a desire to learn more. If you're active on social media, curate diverse points of view, not merely rallying those who agree with you. Become the example, because we really need good leaders right now.
It takes nothing to be kind. The alternative is far more costly: if July 20 in Aurora, Colorado, taught us anything, it's that the ultimate WMD may be a single human being, existing in isolation, fully alive only when online, twisted by rage and illness.
I've bought printing for 30 years and certain sales behaviors separate the insightful professionals from the glorified messengers. This is not to be negative or "high maintenance" but here are some mistakes that are sure to alienate.
Be dismissive and discount the designer's role.
As a vendor, it's always wise to focus on the client but, as designer to that client, I've known print salespeople who blew off my phone calls, got tetchy over changes, or treated me as (their) personal production assistant ("Hey, can you email me those specs again? I can't seem to find the original...").
What they forget is that many times my questions are our client's questions; I am the client's representative. And courtesy counts: Don't talk down to me. (On one account, the salesperson recognized his mistake and sought to correct it with an assortment of rather slimy ingratiating behaviors, but you can't build a positive collaboration within days after years of rude self-interest. By the time he got it, it was too little, too late.)
Pass the buck (or: Make me do your job for you).
This is where the salesperson tells me, "Heck, I don't know nothin' about that, so lemme have you talk to Bob in our prepress department." A couple problems with this: (1) In some print shops, Bob has no experience talking to clients, nor are they a priority in his busy prepressed day; and (2) I've known some print salespeople to "follow up" with me by asking what Bob said — at which point the client and I find ourselves briefing two people who work within the same organization, but never bothered to check with each other before calling us.
Solution: As salesperson, you're the print team leader. Act like it. You conference-call the question-answer session so you're also in on the conversation when I confab with Bob from your prepress.
Don't jam up the delivery.
This is for your own good: If your delivery folks "misdeliver" a client's job, the seemingly harmless mistake can potentially "unsell" the hard work that came before in the sales, creative, and production cycle. Why? Because clients keep tab! Every time they have to put out an all-points-bulletin for a box of brochures that didn't arrive precisely, they'll factor such incidents into future decision-making (ie, How much of a hassle is it to rely on you?).
Precise delivery means a promise to the client has been kept: "On the 10th of October at 10 AM, the brochures will be delivered to office 1010 in your headquarters." Sloppy delivery means at 10:30 AM on October 11th, the client is in the mailroom begging a mailroom supervisor to help her go through 300 newly arrived boxes to see if her brochures might be in there....
Talk "teamwork" to my face and spread doubt behind my back.
Stay classy, OK? If you feel skeptical about my production specs, talk to me and let's work it out. If you feel the production schedule has you set up to fail, talk to me and let's work it out. But don't go behind my back alarming the client about the cost of a certain effect just because you don't want to run the job with it.
I suppose it's an inevitable joke that salespeople are aggressive and supremely self-confident, but when have these qualities alone ensured the success of a long-term relationship? Good salespeople are excellent listeners who put a premium on sensitive relational behaviors, and constant problem-solving for their clients. They're more consultative than cocky.
