Little Black Boxes

In 1983, John Mellencamp (nee Cougar) released Little Pink Houses, an indictment perhaps of our (mis)perceptions of reality. He could have used a number of references, like picket fences, ice cream socials, drive-ins, or more. But, the icon of "little pink houses" rapidly brings small-town Americana to focus. We are a nation of communities. Flawed, challenged, and imperfect; led by the imperfect and subject to so many competing priorities and visions. Why are we drawn emotionally to little pink houses and other visions of a simpler time? "Ain't that America for you and me?"

It was phenomenal to be back in person at a major conference last week in Orlando. It was an outstanding opportunity to see many people and to hear a great many stories of their challenges through the pandemic, both professional and personal. It was, however, challenging in some ways. 

As I walked through the conference center early on, I stepped on an elevator lost in my own thoughts. I even conversed briefly to thank someone who had held the door for me. Minutes later, the person began conversing, and only then I realized who it was. I was lost in my thoughts, and persisting in the cloud that has gathered around us in recent months. As I ruminated on that exchange later, it occurred to me that we have been apart too long. Everyone has devolved into little names printed in little squares on little screens as we strove to maintain "connection" in an ever-disconnected world. 

The fact is that technology has made the world more convenient and connected. Way before there was COVID, there was Internet shopping, video teleconference hearings, e-filing, and more. We did it all before the pandemic but did it more often thereafter because of the pandemic. The litigation process in Florida has pushed the envelope of modernity for years. And, in the process, the practice likely lost some level of personal interaction, community, and humanity long before the virus. It is fair to say that technology did not change the "what" of legal practice, but it certainly changed the "how" over the last two decades. 

The electronic processes have made litigation more convenient, rapid, and efficient. We adapted to PDF conversion, scanning, uploading, docket number references, and more. In the 1990s, Lawyers evolved from the telephone to email. In the 2000s they evolved from email to texting. Some more than others. See Don't Text and Depose (November 2021). That text and depose discussion reminded me of Mitch Ratcliffe:

“A computer lets you make more mistakes faster than any invention in human history-with the possible exceptions of handguns and tequila”

There are dangers in a variety of tools we employ in the modern world, and those dangers may be significant. A Hollywood actor, director, and producer recently learned that when he pointed a handgun at a coworker and somehow killed her without, he claims, ever pulling the trigger. See Safety First (November 2021).

Everyone knows you do not point a gun at anything you do not intend to kill, or as some say "destroy." But, there are less obvious challenges. The computer offers similar challenges, "don't text messages you don't intend to have the Supreme Court read" during disciplinary proceedings. That is an extension, by some license of April White's 

“Don’t put anything in writing you wouldn’t want the world to read when you’re dead."

We have gained so much from technology, and without it the struggles of SARS-CoV-2 would have been far greater, persistent, and challenging. A great many relied upon technology through the pandemic, and livelihoods were literally saved through remote access to documents, cellular telephones, e-filing, e-service, and video interaction for medical appointments, depositions, hearings, and more. Technology literally saved us, personally and professionally. 

That is not to say it was easy. I spoke with a great many state leaders over the course of the pandemic and was persistently astounded at the way in which they were "overcoming challenges." One proudly told me in 2020 how they had "figured out" how to accept electronic trial exhibits (which we began doing in 2006). Another described challenges with swearing witnesses remotely (which we began doing in 2009). Another conversation detailed some procedural rules that did not accommodate even telephonic appearances for proceedings (which we began doing in the 1990s). There were many challenges across the continent. Some were less prepared for the quantum shift than others, and for some the shift was less of a shock. 

Florida's practitioners were exceedingly prepared by comparison. Despite some minor challenges and adjustments, we saw exceptional flexibility and aplomb from lawyers, doctors, adjusters, case managers, and more. It was not without bumps, bruises, and some outright failures. But, we persevered. The systems for injured worker care and return to work survived. And now, we return to the non-virtual world. Well, perhaps. 

I ran into a state official last week who was lamenting the challenges of managing remote workers. There was a discussion of the complexities of onboarding and retaining remote staff. Throughout the soliloquy, I was struck with easy (deceptively so) solutions to every issue that was raised: open the office, and bring back the staff. Yes, despite the COVID vaccine, and more, some state offices across the continent remain closed or at least constricted. 

Some predict the world has changed for good. The prediction there is that there will never be live proceedings or office work again. That state official sold me the largest issue now is what to do with the agency's real estate. This official confided that telecommuting is more efficient, cheaper, and is here to stay, predicting that there will never be a return to an office environment in that state. Well, perhaps. 

What do we lose in the digital world? We lose connection. There are digital methodologies that are better than others in this regard. Certainly, video is better than telephone, for example. But, they are each remote. They each are a shadow of reality, interpersonal reality. 

In the end, with people reduced to names on a screen, or worse, voices on a line, will we lose the humanity of the community? Will we be reduced to seeing each other from time to time at a conference or convention? Will professional practice and our business relationships become as inconsequential and remote as Facebook (n/k/a Meta). Instagram, Twitter, and worse have rendered "friendship" a whole new context in the Internet era. Better?  As one pundit wrote, "it is better to have one loyal friend than 100 Facebook 'friends'." Well, perhaps.

The future? I am drawn to Men at Work, Who Can It Be Now (1981), for the reality check of "It's not the future that I can see, It's just my fantasy." Too true. We cannot see the future. Predictions are imperfect, as are we all. In our minds, we project where the world is going, and where we are going, and perhaps we are good guessers in our personal fantasies. But it is fantasy nonetheless. Well, perhaps (not?). 

But, I think those who believe in the efficacy of an all-remote, digital future are as naïve as those who cling to some return to a world absent of technology (see Boston Predictions, March 2018). In the time before SARS-CoV-2, we had already discovered "hybrid"; that is not new.  The technology was already leveraged, extant, and evolving. The pandemic did not change our world permanently and it should not change us either. I see us returning to various in-person experiences, just as we saw last week in Orlando. I see lawyers, already, returning to trials in person. That does not mean we will return to folks traveling an hour for just any 10-minute consultation, but some of those will be important enough to justify the trip.

This does not mean that we will eschew the technology, ignore the potential of telecommuting for the right team members in the appropriate circumstance, or abandon the remote medical appointment for follow-up or monitoring. But, I am doubtful that we retain telemedicine for that "complex initial evaluation," or "surgical consultation." The point is that professionals will make choices about what to attend in person, just as they did in the pre-SARS-CoV-2 world. That digital has become more accepted, more reliable, and less expensive will influence decisions, but those decisions will remain decisions. Success will come to those who make intelligent and careful decisions considering cost, efficacy, and probability.

Regardless of how much time and money they may save, I am doubtful that John Cougar or anyone else will ever pen "Little Black Boxes, for you and me." I would suggest that instead these will be remembered as a legacy of challenge, and will be increasingly relegated to times of convenience or economy. In time, we will all likely be able to describe them to our grandchildren similarly to the way we all heard of WWII ration books, Dust Bowl farmers, folk singers, and more. Intriguing, and enriching, but historical and yesterday. Our grandkids will roll their eyes if we voice a recollection of the great pandemic, and good for them. 

And, if we are lucky, opportunities will abound for in-person interaction. That interaction will be increasingly critical whether that is a monthly Inns of Court meeting, a conference in Orlando, Coconut Point, Tallahassee, or beyond (The FLJCC is back with a live program at the Florida First District Court in February, stay tuned for details). Certainly, I think, digital interaction will continue to broaden and spread. More will accept technology benefits, and as we return to a non-pandemic world there will be more discretion regarding what merits a trip versus a videoconference.

What did I get from WCI 2021? I enjoyed rekindling relationships. I got positive reinforcement from handshakes, smiles, gestures, personality, and people. It was a welcome respite from little boxes on a screen. If I didn't see you in Orlando or failed to recognize you following our long "winter of discontent" (Billy Shakespeare, Richard III, 1597), I am sorry. As we persevere, I look forward to seeing you all (again) soon. But, if I still fail to recognize or acknowledge, chock it up to our long isolation and shake me from my COVID reverie, so we can have a real conversation as we rejoin our real community.