Kwame Text - A Lesson in Communication

We continue to learn that communication, like a diamond, is forever and Kwame Kilpatrick, the mayor of Detroit, is only the latest (that we know about) high-profile philanderer to “discover” that, regardless of technological advances (and the occasional lie - 'I did not have textual relations with that woman'), it’s still nearly impossible to cover your tracks.  As our world has evolved, our modes of communication have evolved as well.  Where once we could only communicate solely by word of mouth, we have since applied to communication the power of scalability, enabling us with multiple means (phone, fax, e mail, IM, text, internet and, for the moment at least, newspapers to name just a few)  as well as exponentially expanding our prospective audience.  Where once we chiseled pictures and words on rocks and tablets, by which someone would have to walk (and interpret correctly) to “read,” we can now broadcast a message to an audience of one or one million with less effort than it took to pick up the chisel.  We still, however, share an important bond with our ancient rock cartoonist mates.  We call that bond permanency. 

You see we haven’t yet found a way to easily get rid of our records.  In fact, and as Mr. Kilpatrick is now keenly aware, it’s become much harder.  Where once we could crush the rock or burn the letter (not to mention simply killing the messenger), today we are literally powerless to control how our communications are contained, maintained or sustained (thought that might add a political speech-like flavor).   And, like leaving your fingerprints, sweat, saliva or any other bodily fluid at the scene of the crime, there is always a record of where we’ve been and what we said.  We may have gotten rid of the paper, but we most definitely have yet to get rid of the trail.  Like water that evaporates from a boiling pan, it may appear to be gone but it’s really only been transformed, stored in a cloud that, coincidently, looks a lot like those drawings IT folks make to represent the internet, and will, eventually, come back to us as rain, sometimes acid rain.

I remember being advised some time ago that I should visualize everything I say or do as being displayed on a billboard by which my mom drives every day on her way to church and ask myself, would she be proud?  That example, while still strong in meaning is, of course, no longer germane in reality since technology can now bring the billboard right into mom’s house through a wire or through waves in the sky.  Mom doesn’t even need to leave the house. 

And neither, of course, do Mr. Kilpatrick’s wife, family, friends, associates and constituents (as well as the entire population of the web-enabled world) who, thanks to his presumably mistaken assumption (or arrogance) about the traceability of the text world, now know more about him, his chief of staff and their "agenda" than they certainly needed or wanted to know.

My advice, no matter how horny, vindictive or illegally inclined you may be, if you're using a computer, or anything that acts like a computer (which means almost everything now), resist the urge for the speed of Type/Send and instead favor this Type, Read, Affirm (that you wouldn't mind your mom (or spouse) reading this - unless she's your partner in crime, in which case this is a bad example), then, finally, Publish (Send).  Oh, and by the way, did you get my text?