Observed

Q. You mentioned you’re doing less e-mail.

LBJ was a master at face-to-face persuasion. Rhode Island’s Senator Theodore Green was, in this case, the mastered. Johnson would probably prefer to cut off one of his own fingers than to send an e-mail.

A. I think e-mail is very often disruptive in corporate cultures. You sit next to people and send e-mail to each other instead of walking over or making a call or just trying to look for the personal interaction. I use e-mail more and more as text messaging — just very, very short messages. It’s very efficient, but I am convinced that e-mail does not replace presence. Also, I never read cc e-mails.

From “Corner Office,” Aug. 29, 2010, in The New York Times, an interview with Kasper Rorsted, the chief executive of Henkel, the consumer and industrial products company based in Düsseldorf, Germany.

An article about cabbies in New York City reminded me of the importance of the tangible.

It ought to be pretty obvious.   I mean, really.  Do you tip based on the tangible appearance of your cab’s interior?  How about whether your server bothered to bathe before their shift?

What makes an attorney or other professional service provider any different?  Do we give them a pass when they…

• Don’t return phone calls promptly?
• Consistently show up late to appointments?
• Add someone new to a case without discussing it with you first?

Do we give them a pass because they say that they really, really, really care about client satisfaction?

Of course we don’t.  Or, do we?

Study after study reports that we make lasting impressions based on small details.  Small, tangible details.

According to some, "computers and cellphones, and the constant stream of stimuli they offer, pose a profound new challenge to focusing and learning."

Maybe all of us have a touch of ADHD in our hard-wiring.   Maybe that’s what helped keep us safe from the sabertooth or the tar pit or the whatever.

Fast-forward several eons.  The average amygdala is getting a real work out in the Digital Age.  We’re bombarded with stimuli, constantly shifting and sorting — alert to threats and opportunities — and feeding our addiction(s).

This morning’s New York Times suggests we’re paying a price for this innate urge, particularly among the young.  Consider: (more…)

For the past day and a half, I've been in Boston meeting with the New England Chapter of the Legal Marketing Association.

Web bios that actually convey what attorneys are like as people.  This is one of the recurring messages I’ve heard from top marketing analysts, sales coaches, major CEOs  and general counsel for the past day and a half.

So, if you’ve been thinking “I’ll look cheesy or unprofessional if I include what I do in my spare time or talk about myself in the first-person,” think again. (more…)

R. Crumb's "Mister Natural" was plenty crunchy. But it had little, if anything, to do with granola.

This morning’s Seth, with a nice riff relating to the way American Engish can flex.

I wonder what price we pay nowadays as a result of having a device or app or a something to tickle every fancy. Whether we stunt or lose our ability to imagine. The kind of imagination it took when all we had were a few radio stations...and the glow from the dial.

[Note:  This was first posted on my Facebook page, June 11, 2009.]

A Facebook friend recently posted an I-don’t-get-it message about Twitter. He speaks my mind, and we’re not alone in our resistance.

He reminded me of an article I read recently (OK, on-line) by Michael Winerip in the New York Times.   Winerip and I came right after the generation for whom radios and telephones were still slightly novel. It’s from our parents and grandparents that he and I learned to appreciate the simpler basics. (more…)

Recipes reduce risk.  Since cooking depends on a lot of chemistry with a very low tolerance for error, we learn that recipes help ensure predictable results.

Same with writing.  If we care about being understood, it’s important to follow conventions of punctuation, syntax, usage and the like.

Once in a while, however, a new dish is created.  Someone takes a chance and adjusts a recipe.  Or, just makes up something as they go along, relying on their intuition and a family pet to which failures can be fed.

Same with writing.  With American English, we’re blessed with a wonderfully dynamic language.  It’s liveliness and utility reflect our willingness to bend the rules and adapt.

So, learn the recipe for good writing.  Use it.  Then throw it away.