This is a two-part essay.  It’s about technology and also about a conversation that did not happen—but could have happened.

I was late coming to technology.  I didn’t have a computer until my cousin gave me a Packard Bell (it had nothing to do w/ Hewlett-Packard).  It was more of a “souped-up” word processor than a computer.  It had no internet access.  I wrote a book using this machine.  I was halfway through writing the manuscript when the machine froze.  If a Best Buy tech couldn’t have resurrected the machine, I may have given up on writing the book.  It would have been too difficult to start from scratch.

I didn’t have a cell phone until 2004.  My girlfriend bought me a T-Mobile flip phone for a Christmas present.  The day after Christmas, coming back from a   20-mile bike ride in 35-degree weather, I held up the phone on the Hot Metal Bridge and took the photo featured in this essay.  I didn’t study the position of the sun, the spot where I had stopped on my bike, or think about the reflections in the water.  I just snapped a photo.  The result of what you are looking at was sheer luck.

I love technology now.  I used to be afraid of it.  Now I face it.  To borrow a  line from one of the great philosophers of our time, “Face your fears and they’ll become your strengths.” (a quote attributed to Jim Morrison).  Another great insight into technology comes from Howard Stern who said (paraphrasing), “I know I’m going to die one day but I’m still going to be pissed because of all the new technology I’ll miss.”  

When something new in technology comes along, others are using it before it crosses my path.  Such is the case with those email invites to meetings (Calendy, Doodle, Acuity, PickTime, Clockwise).  I was sent a meeting invite by a person in the benefits industry.  The invite was not out of the blue as I provide classes in Financial and Health Literacy—subjects that all employees of all employers would benefit from.  I also teach a unique writing class.  That class is unique because it focuses on the cathartic and ancillary benefits of writing.

When I received the meeting invite, I picked a date and time and received a confirmation email.  I was looking forward to discussing my background and the value I can offer to employers with the benefits person.  But I didn’t get that chance.  Two hours before the scheduled meeting, I received an email canceling that meeting.  When I replied to the benefits person asking why they canceled, I was told they had no interest in offering writing classes to their clients and potential clients.

So, much like the Orson Welles War of the Worlds radio broadcast in 1938 that fictionalized a Martian attack on a town in New Jersey that really didn’t happen, the following is an email conversation that didn’t really happen—but it could have.

ME: I’m curious as to why you canceled our meeting.            

BENEFITS PERSON: I saw on your class list that you teach writing.  I’m not interested in that.

ME: But I also teach Financial Literacy and Health Literacy.  Your clients would appreciate my insight into those areas.  And that insight only came after I acquired the objectivity and creativity that comes with having a brain properly trained to write. 

BENEFITS PERSON: I couldn’t sell a writing program.  I sell health insurance and then I upcharge with wellness programs.  It’s a big margin item.

ME:  Writing should be part of a wellness program.  Just the mental health benefits from writing make it a valuable addition to a wellness program.

BENEFITS PERSON:  Companies buy my wellness programs.  And they’re not asking about writing programs.  My wellness programs are about weight loss contests and learning how to exercise.  I give the clients what they want.

ME: Writing can enhance both the professional and personal lives of the employees of the companies that pay you.  You should start right now getting the employees to “train their brain” to think the way a writer must.  It’s hard to write but you have to work at it to obtain the cathartic and ancillary benefits.

BENEFITS PERSON: What’s so hard about writing, Ken?  It’s easy.  All you have to do is figure out when LOL goes at the beginning of the email and when it goes at the end.  And you can’t use LMAO too much.  That’s all you have to know…

__________

OK, so you get the idea.  Not Shakespearean quality dialogue but my point is made.  The departments that should be promoting writing programs—Benefits and Human Resources—aren’t doing so in favor of weight loss contests and classes on which days to work the triceps and which days to work the biceps (“Cause if you get that wrong, Ken, it’s just awful.”).

If Benefits and HR aren’t going to do it, managers should take a page from David Solomon’s book (pun intended).  Solomon is the CEO of Goldman Sachs.  In a May 2019 interview, he stated that his firm is “…finding the valuable job skills of writing less and less.”  To overcome the lack of writing ability, Goldman has been recruiting new hires at liberal arts colleges.  A well-rounded education—with an emphasis on communication skills (both writing and speaking)—has more merit than most specialized educations.  Goldman can’t teach a finance major how to write but can teach a person with writing skills everything they need to know about finance.  To be blunt, I thought Solomon’s interview would have had a bigger impact than it did.  But, as you can tell from the riveting dialogue above, that hasn’t happened yet.

In closing, I received another calendar invite from another person after the first one.  I selected a date and time.  That meeting was also canceled by the person who invited me.  But I am not too concerned about the cancellation.  That person was HR.  

No, not Human Resources.  Hardly Relevant.

To learn more about my writing class, visit the Bruce Springsteen section on the Landing Page.