Pick up the Phone

With each passing day, I’m increasingly convinced that many of the answers to the problems faced in this world lie in interpersonal connections. There is strength and power and community, and as I age, I feel that and respect it increasingly.

I was disturbed by a 2023 report featured in The Hill. This concluded that young people today are spending less time with friends. Electronics, convenience, and distance are contributing to these issues.

Some are perhaps merely "busy" and seek the convenience of digital interaction. Others are perhaps avoiding the personal interaction and socialization that persisted and predominated in a pre-digital world.

Is digital interaction a viable substitute for a good, old-fashioned conversation?

At the end of the day, is a low-fat, zero-sugar, almond milk, frozen “dessert“ a worthy substitute? Well, if I were offered nothing else, I might accept this substitute, but to be honest, it is not my first choice. I would be much happier with a three-scoop banana split sundae, complete with nuts and a cherry.

Some would say that is pretentious—each is "dessert," though the healthy alternative might instead be a "desert," but I digress.

Follow me. Dessert is enjoyable. There’s an old saying that a bad day of fishing beats a great day at the office (others have substituted golf, gardening, and others, for "fishing"). In that vein, a bad dessert beats Brussels sprouts.

I sure would rather have a pint of ice cream. No, not “frozen dessert,“ I’m talking about the real down-home, sufficient milk fat, “ice cream.”

The subject of young people and their proclivities for digital interaction came back to me recently. CBS News reports that teens are increasingly turning to artificial intelligence (AI) for friendship. One teenager noted:

"'Everyone uses AI for everything now. It's really taking over,' said Chege, who wonders how AI tools will affect her generation. 'I think kids use AI to get out of thinking.'"

Teens are regularly using platforms designed to be companions. These platforms, "like Character.AI or Replika" are designed to be responsive and interactive. They "can be customized with specific traits or personalities" and attract the user with attributes like "emotional support, companionship, and conversations that can feel human-like."

Let's be honest. They are not ice cream. Hard stop.

These young people are increasingly exposed to these substitutes, and they like them. The statistics are staggering: "34% reporting daily usage or multiple times a week." There are perhaps valid uses for such tools. A young person might gain insight, build courage, and develop self-confidence through such tools.

But, in the end, technology cannot replace human relationships. In the end, there is a need for real conversation with real, flawed, imperfect people. People need dissent, disagreement, and difference. A sycophantic autobot that echoes and commiserates with all your individualism may be comforting, but I suggest it is not a healthy diet.

The consequence of losing those real human interactions cannot be overstated. The interactions are who we really are. We need the genuine interaction. We need the varied perspectives. Our brains were built for challenges, not merely concurrence and harmony. 

In the pre-cell phone era, we used to talk to people on the phone a lot. We conversed, shared anecdotes, interacted, and related. Many will remember some calls that ended with a disagreement about the simplicity of who would hang up first. That was an odd and yet endearing commonality.

Those calls were full of imperfection—humans are imperfect. The reactions were real. Attempts at humor soared or flopped. Often, hours or days later, we had epiphanies of what we "should have said." And, with each one, we grew in our ability to interact, to engage, and to converse.

Along came the cell phone, and that impact was muted. When they arrived, I was an early adopter in 1987. In that age, there were "pay phones" on every corner (it seemed like it), and for a quarter ($0.25) you could make a call. My first cell phone similarly cost me $.25 to make the call and $.25 per minute for every minute. Cell calls were understandably short in those days.

Evolution brought lower prices. In the 1990s, using the tool became a viable economical alternative to those now-extinct pay phones. Our phones became more invasive. Our previous times of solitude, like driving, became opportunities and even obligations for calls. Productivity increased, but at what price? As unlimited plans came, usage increased. But we were talking.

Then the text messaging protocols from the early nineties took off in the early 2000s. That was driven largely by kids, but as keyboards evolved (with devices like the Blackberry, the Moto, and eventually the smartphone), we all began to text. This evolved into full words, and with dictation software into paragraphs. 

If you were looking for the beginning of the end, it is likely the advent of text messaging in the early 1990s. This tool has been a panopoly of challenges. We communicated in abbreviations and emoticons (does anyone know what they all mean? The thumbs up I get, but the rest not so much). I most often skip over the emoticons for fear of misinterpreting something. See What We Intend (July 2023). 

The end? Of what? Of interaction. Far too much is attempted these days with the ubiquitous text message and its older cousin, the email. They are efficient, fast, and utterly without context. They are engagement, but of the lowest order. Pick up the phone - it is called that for a reason.

Sure, it has secondary uses for messaging, but it can be used for a conversation. A real, banana-split conversation. An imperfect, interactive, real conversation. No, you won't be persistently smooth, suave, and debonair. Yes, you will misspeak, misstate, and even find yourself at a loss for words. But it will all be real. And you will grow personally and interactively as a result.

The OJCC sponsored its third Meet and Greet at the WCI on August 17, 2025. We shook hands, conversed, and interacted. In person was even better than the call. I met new people and enjoyed rekindling old relationships. I learned things, got advice, and experienced smiles, affirmation, and engagement. 

The more personal the interaction, the more real it is. There is no "low fat" or "substitute." Get real, pick up the phone to call instead of texting or emailing. Converse, share, and interact. People are a great experience; try it in person.

We should have seen the perils in texting—we missed it and regret it.

We should similarly see the peril in AI—they are programs, not friends (or counselors, physicians, etc.). Get back to people. Go to events in person. Pick up the phone and interact. A bad phone call still beats Brussels sprouts, if you get my drift. 

A.B.C. v. X.Y.Z

The power of artificial intelligence is amazing. I recently found myself bored and cruising the news feeds. I ran across a disturbing story of alleged criminal activity involving two minors. The habit in this country has long been to identify youth figures only with their initials.

This was an evolution of the 20th century, which I recently learned some young(er) folks now refer to as the "1900s," even when they are discussing as late as 1999. The halcyon days of my youth are thus "so last century," and that both educates and depresses me.

The specifics in this instance involved two young people and made the news due to a civil lawsuit filed by the victim. The story said the assailant and victim had each transferred to different schools since the event, that there had been an arrest and prosecution, and other specific details. One critical detail named a parent/guardian with no similar effort at obfuscation identity. Details of the victim's school activities participation, and some physical description were included.

I was intrigued immediately because of a presentation at the WCI on artificial intelligence. That expert had explained that AI is much stronger and powerful than the algorithm searches (internet searches) to which we have become accustomed.

Thus, the internet search allows us to look for keywords. I used that to search for the initials mentioned, the town referenced, and other details. I found news stories and similar references. They were largely homogenized, consistent, and even redundant-A.B.C alleged to have been attacked by X.Y.Z. It struck me that I might identify either the victim or the perpetrator.

The articles described activities (sports) in which each was involved, as that formed some foundation for the described actions and allegations. I therefore took a chance on a reasonably simple AI prompt, not about X.Y.Z., but about the activities. Local news loves to publish names and even pictures of young people excelling at academic and athletic events.

I asked, "Compile me a list of all students in _________ participating in ____________ in MONTH of YEAR." I received a disappointingly brief response with an offer to dig deeper. I asked for the "dig deeper," and after several such offers and responses, I was provided an extensive list of students who were known for participation in those activities in that community.

Only one name had any potential to match X.Y.Z.'s initials. In fairness, this was aided by the fact that the first initial (no, it was not really "X") was not radically uncommon, but was also not at the top of the common initial list (the predominance of the top 9 is amazing—J, M, A, C, D, R, S, L, and B account for the vast majority).  

A follow-up prompt quickly confirmed that this named student now attended a school some miles away, which matched the generalities in the original news article. The path to photographs, background, and more was then reasonably unchallenging. Was all this enough to convince or convict? Unlikely. Nonetheless, the inquiry is reasonably supportive of the alleged perpetrator's identity.

A similar prompt led me reasonably rapidly to a probable identity of the victim. Armed with the information, the power of AI was reinforced. The ease of pulling back the protections of "initials" was frankly unsettling. The fact that it was easy for a dinosaur like me was more so. 

I have often related the story about the pace of regulatory change. I first heard it in 2015, as discussed in Salim Ismail and a Life-Changing Seminar in Orlando (May 2015). The speaker noted that most states have laws requiring rearview mirrors on all automobiles, but none require a steering wheel. The simple fact is that regulators did not think of that when drafting laws. Who would build a car without one? Well, welcome to the 21st century (or "it ain't the 1900's anymore").

So, the point of the foregoing is not to shame either victim, perpetrator, or others. I am doubtful that there is enough shared here for the reader to even guess at the news story that brought me here (there is a challenge for your AI skills). Instead, the point is that the time has likely come for a more effective method of pseudonym for the protection of minors in legal proceedings. For centuries, courts have striven in this regard.

See the history in Lupton, Illinois Supreme Court history: John Doe and Richard Roe (). If the effort is sincere, the path merits attention. Identity is increasingly revealed or open in the age of the internet. The advent of artificial intelligence will only make it more so.

Beyond the pseudonym, there would have to be some method to diminish access to various details, such as parent names, specific school or community activities, and more. One reaction is that this is an affront to the free press, another that this would be significant work, and there are more arguments to make. 

Nonetheless, if it is worth the effort to protect the identity of minors, it is worth a better effort than this experience demonstrated. If it is not worth the effort, then the superficial A.B.C. and X.Y.Z. are now likely of little or even no use whatever. The decision seems to be whether it is worth doing at all. If it is, is it worth doing effectively? I suspect that A.B.C. and X.Y.Z. both think it is.

The Horrific Videos

Recent days have brought a lot ot angst and anxiety. The nation has witnessed a brutal and unprovoked stabbing. The locality was an additional shock to some, Charlotte, North Carolina. This occurred August 22, 2025, but only began noticeably coming across my news feed about ten days ago and has persisted since. The story is troubling from multiple perspectives.

The victim was merely riding a train. She was apparently attacked at random by a man who was then readily detained and arrested. Her name was Iryna Zarutska, and she had escaped the Russian invasion of Ukraine only to be inexplicably killed in North Carolina. The Mayor of Charlotte apparently resisted releasing the surveillance video.

There has been much news coverage of Ms. Zarutska, the alleged killer, and various allegations and recriminations. Interestingly, the family of the accused blames society: "His family says the system failed him." Some perceive the Charlotte Mayor as more concerned for the perpetrator than the innocent victim.

Some were led to comparisons between Charlotte and an alleged Texas school stabbing in June. That school district has restricted access to the video it obtained. In the resulting vacuum of actual data, there have been allegations that "fake" information has appeared on social media.

More recently, a shot rang out during a campus gathering in Utah. A gentleman of considerably more fame, Charlie Kirk, was killed by a single bullet during a campus debate. The police, FBI, and more poured into the situation, and modern surveillance video prompted a family member to identify and assist in detaining the alleged shooter. The killing was senseless, and at this time appears somewhat random.

Because of Mr. Kirk's fame, there were many recordings underway at the time of the shooting. Multiple individuals had video of the horrific injury, reactions, and the crowd's panic. In today's environment of ubiquitous cameras, that is perhaps inevitable when the famous are involved.

There has been much news coverage of both the Zarutska stabbing and the Kirk shooting. Graphic images are available for anyone who wants to search.

As I have read about these attacks and the senselessness of violence, I have also been struck by the ease with which news, gossip, and commentary travel. The world of social media has rendered every human with a keyboard capable of instantly disseminating their every thought. See Anonymity and Emotional Intelligence (July 2022); Keyboard Attacks (October 2024); Are you Hiding? (January 2025); Malicious and Destructive (April 2025).

Many in the wake of Mr. Kirk have found themselves criticized, pursued, and even punished for their commentary. There have been intriguing discussions online regarding the First Amendment, and some of those who suffered recriminations related to their online comments have decried their circumstances and questioned how they are not protected by that venerable clause.

As a public service, let’s be clear. The First Amendment protects the freedom of the press and freedom of speech (among other rights). It prevents the government from suppressing, limiting, and preventing speech (well, unless the government can demonstrate a compelling governmental interest in its limitations), with the admonition "Congress shall make no law."

A surprising number of young people are viewed as critical of free expression. A Brookings commentary on its studies and inquiry is a worthy read. That 2017 exposé highlighted views of dissent, disagreement, and even violence. To be clear, violence is not an appropriate response to speech. The best counter to speech "is more speech, not enforced silence," as noted in Whitney v. California. 

The First Amendment guarantees your right to speak as you wish. It does not protect you from the fruit of the seeds you plant, though. If you say something that is defamatory, the First Amendment will not protect you from a lawsuit, even if that bankrupts you. If you say something that does not comport with your employer’s worldview, the First Amendment does not preclude you from suffering harm as a result of your speech.

The First Amendment protects you from being censored, prevented, or constrained (subject to the “compelling interest” above). It does not protect you from repercussions or damages that you cause yourself with your comments or commentary. Similarly, the Second Amendment protects your right to keep and bear arms, but if you shoot yourself in the foot or hurt others, the amendment will not protect you from harm or prosecution. 

These amendments protect your rights to choice, not your poor choices when exercised. These amendments give you choices. Choose wisely. 

Those who would post on social media should keep that in mind. That is not legal advice, but it is sound advice. And, despite being able to close your social media account or delete a post, know that anything you post will likely live forever in someone’s archive, server farm, or cloud (there is no such thing as a computer cloud).

One element of all of this, the videos, posts, and criticisms, is that children have near instant access to the World Wide Web and, therefore, social media. That access came into the spotlight again with these recent events. One headline proclaimed, "My kid has seen this, now what?" A valid question. 

The Associated Press reported that some schools have striven to restrict daytime access to phones and other devices. Nonetheless, when school adjourned after the recent shooting, children rapidly accessed, shared, and suffered the recent graphic violence. There has been lamentation of that exposure, with some more specifically focused on the access without parental guidance or input.

Certainly, one might posit that the parents decide who has a phone and such access. Nonetheless, believe it or not, young people pass their phones around to each other and share. As "so last century" as that seems, trust me. I have seen them do it. A young person without a phone is no more than two young people away from seeing one anyway.

The fact is, simply stated, that young people today are going to be exposed to so much that we old folks were not in our youth. They are going to whether that is intended or not, whether there are protections or not, whether contrary efforts are exerted or not. That is not to say that efforts, protections, or intentions do not matter.

We owe it to them and to us to make every attempt to protect and nurture the young. There is merit in striving to shield them from the graphic. But there is reality, and we must know that the threat of their exposure to this is real and pervasive.

The Independent has offered some "expert advice" for parents. It may be of equal value to other family members. This advice, in a nutshell, is

Don’t ignore it

But don’t assume they know everything

Process your own feelings first

Make it an ongoing conversation

Maybe that is pretty good advice for all of us? Perhaps, despite our callouses, aging, and experience, all of that is not as sufficient a shield as we might think. Maybe exposure to such events, graphic videos, and the hate and vitriol of the web and social media is not any more healthy or tolerable for any of us?

In fairness, and on the advice of my attorney, Horace Middlemier*, let me stress that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, counselor, or anything remotely similar. I have no training in mental health whatsoever. Nonetheless, I think we all need to ponder the impact of all of this violence, graphics, and vitriol on our personal well-being.

Gone are the days when news came to us on pulp delivered at least hours after events. Gone are the days when news was limited to television coverage, editorial standards, and calm warning precursors. The news comes at us all with amazing rapidity, repetition, and intensity. There has to be some focus on how that impacts us, but more importantly, how it affects our youth.

*Horace Middlemier is not a real person. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a mere coincidence. In this context, it is suggested that my attorney would caution me to include such a disclaimer. 

Neither Rain,

I was recently reminded of the tried, true, and historical. Judge Middlemier* contacted me about a document. In this circumstance, electronic transmission would not do, and therefore, a piece of paper must make its way across the expanse of space. Conveyance of information has become so digitally-focused, it marked the first moment I necessitated Judge Middlemier's address.

The internet was nonetheless handy as a reference. It yielded two alternative addresses, and I had to inquire which was best. The response was a selection with the explanation that delivery to the other by the United States Postal Service (USPS) is "unreliable." That indictment of a postal carrier resonated. I have come to doubt the efficacy of my own.

The decline in my personal experience began when our e-filing began. This resulted in a decline in mail volume to the office here in Paradise. Gone were the days when the carrier would bring a full USPS bin each day. The carrier would always appear, though, because we were still sending mail. E-service arrived soon enough, and the outgoing mail became more sporadic. That's when the carrier became less attentive.

There was a time when the U.S. Postal Service was unwavering. Its dependability and grit were enshrined in its unofficial motto. In that, I recall an exchange between Timon, Pumba, and Simba in the midst of Hakuna Matata (The Lion King, Walt Disney, 1994):

Simba: "Hakuna Matata?

Pumbaa: "Yeah. It's our motto!"

Simba: "What's a motto?"

Timon: "Nothing. What's a-motto with you?"

Classic. But a motto describes the mission. It is a clear and often shorthand method of conveying the core belief. The U.S. "Postal Service has no official motto," but has had one hung upon it by us observers.

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

The USPS is proud that the public has bestowed that attribution and has even taken to it. I remember when there were posters on the Post Office wall that made this proclamation. In fact, it is engraved in stone on the front of the James A. Farley Post Office in New York City. To be fair, this is not a recent attribution, nor was it created for the USPS. 

In fact, the phrase was adopted or adapted from the history of postal delivery in the age of "Greeks and Persians (500-449 B.C.)," according to the USPS website. So the postal mission was apparently quite regular and envied some 3,000 years ago or perhaps earlier. 

Perhaps that is why it is disappointing when the "appointed rounds" don't always include you. That is reasonably common here in Paradise, the local carrier simply omits our office from "their appointed rounds." The recent communique from Judge Middlemeier supported that we are not alone in our disappointment with the vaunted service of this iconic profession.

Why would anyone care if they do not receive their yesteryear newsletter, U-Line catalog (from whom we have never ordered, but from whom we receive a 300-page catalog quarterly), ads touting the latest verdict of some law firm, and other assorted detritus? No. We simply would not miss it. Periodically, a real communique arrives. These are exceedingly rare.

Nonetheless, we do still send some mail out. There are those days when we might have ten to fifteen envelopes for pickup. And those are "service" and say we mailed them on a particular day. That can implicate someone's due process, and they need to go on the day we said they did. The communique from Judge Middlemier made me think of Kevin Costner. 

Two years after Waterworld (Universal, 1995) flopped, Mr. Costner brought us a more disastrous box office non-event, The Postman (Warner Brothers, 1997). They each had reasons to flop, but The Postman will likely go down in history as an example, or warning, to all who make movies. Some went so far as to label it "disastrous." That said, it did not make the "worst 25" list of largest financial losers.

In The Postman, we see a dystopian future (2013). The foundation is a society isolated and reeling from some apocalyptic war or conflict. There are isolated pockets of people in close-knit communities, sharing their challenges and leery of strangers. Mr. Costner plays a wanderer (see also Waterworld and the potential for recurring themes in box office bombs). He happens on a wrecked postal truck.

Having assumed the identity of that truck's postal carrier, Costner begins delivering old mail (no, not U-Line catalogs and advertisement circulars). He is welcomed by the otherwise leery and suspicious apocalypse survivors because of their recollections of the USPS and their carrier experiences. The survivors form a faith that the U.S. government has returned from the results of the fictional global conflict. 

Seeing "the postman" walk into their world restores faith. There is a familiarity, a grounding, and a reassurance. Hollywood tripe in the opinions of some, but perhaps with a grain of truth? Maybe we could all be reassured by the regular appearance of the USPS representative?

Nonetheless, it does not happen with regularity in Paradise. I have adopted a habit of walking past the outgoing mail spot each day when I depart. At least twice a month, I take mail from that spot and drop it by the post office on my way home. Our mail is important, even though it may be sporadic.

The point of all of this is reliability. Does the USPS warrant the reverence and respect portrayed for Costner's wandering imposter? In the real future, rather than the 1990s dystopia envisioned in The Postman, is the USPS delivering on its unofficial motto? Or, with sporadic service, is it merely reinforcing that we can handle a world without daily mail delivery?

This is not a post intended to demean or degrade the fine USPS team. It undoubtedly performs a thankless and difficult task. And yet, we might each think of how its members create expectations, good or not-so-much. The fact is, we are all doing that. Every day. In every task. Are we providing reliable, predictable, and thorough service as professionals? Or, are people merely adapting to our shortfalls?

If we are not delivering, are we creating an expectation that merely derides and discredits us all? If the Florida OJCC is not meeting your expectations, I would love to hear from you at david.langham@doah.state.fl.us. Let us know how and where we fall short. We don't want to be wandering, just singing Hakuna Matata:

It means no worries for the rest of your days
It's our problem free philosophy, Hakuna Matata

Customer Service - Are we Listening?

I recently had an opportunity to experience the concept of customer service. One of the real challenges in the world today is communication. The extent, duration, and efficacy seem threatened. 

Years ago, the Chair of the Federal Reserve, Alan Greenspan, made headlines for a now oft-repeated quote: 

“I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”

Uh, ditto.

In this instance, I visited a large retail store to rent a tuxedo. This required a significant investment of time for the attendant measurements and some trying on of sample items. In short, much effort was invested in the task.

Believe me or not, I have purchased and worn a dress shirt or two over the years. I know my sizes. The measurement technician nonetheless confidently measured my sleeve length and announced to the notetaker (yes, it required two people to obtain my measurements):

Technician one: "32 inches."
Technician two: "32, check!"
Me: "No, 34/35"
Technician one: "I know what I’m doing, it’s 32."
Technician 2: "32 check!"
Me: "No, it’s a 34/35"
Technician one: "Trust me."

I was getting nowhere. The experts had their decisions made, and the course was laid. Months passed, and I presented miles away to retrieve my tuxedo. By then, of course, I was on the verge of the event. 

The reader may be astounded to learn that the sleeves on the shirt were, in fact… too short. They were, believe it or not, 32-inch sleeves. I could not help but remember the fateful parting words of the confident technician: "trust me." On another, somewhat related note, the legs on the tux trousers were also too short, inches too short. L'il Abner too short. 

The kind clerks assured me that the trousers could be readily fixed. They took a measurement, made a mark, and advised me that the trousers would be altered before closing time that day. They assured me that they would call when they were ready to be picked up. They were not the ones that botched the measurements, so for a moment I was reassured.

The shirt sleeves were more of a problem. I suggested that the sleeves were too short and noted how they were invisible up my jacket sleeve. I could pull them down into place, but if I moved, they rode up.

The clerk first suggested that I button the shirt sleeve tighter in hopes that it would remain taught and lower. She buttoned the sleeves as tightly as possible, pulled them down repeatedly, and noted confidently each time, "yep, you see?" And yet, each time I moved, those sleeves retreated upward and disappeared yet again.

I asked whether a larger shirt might be available. But the clerk had a different idea. She suggested that we instead shorten the jacket sleeve approximately one and 1/2 inches, so that despite the shirt sleeve riding up, it would remain visible as I moved. I was reasonably surprised by this. The jacket sleeves were exactly the correct length.

Apparently, my look of incredulity and doubt was lost upon her. I actually questioned: “You’re not serious?” To which she reiterated that shortening the jacket sleeve would be the best course forward.

I was immediately reminded of the old (1968) Jerry Lewis movie Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River. A great sentiment for a punch line, but logical? 

Surprisingly, perhaps, I was losing my remaining modicum of faith by this point. I asked them not to shorten the jacket, and committed instead to wearing my own shirt. Despite paying them a substantial sum for a shirt that fit, they adamantly refused to provide one. 

I left the entire package at the store, and assured them I would return when called, upon the trousers being fixed. I went about my day, patiently awaiting that telephone call.

The phone call never came. The tuxedo was retrieved for me the next morning as I ran other errands. But when I opened the Tux bag, I found that the trousers had not been returned to it. With minutes to spare, I made yet another trip to this national retailer. They apologized and pointed to a rack where the trousers were hanging. They handed me the hanger, complete with a pink Post-it note which read: "call when ready," and reflected my phone number.

I laughed aloud, at no one or thing in particular. The entire experience with this tuxedo had been errors, disregard, and worse.

When did we reach a point where the retailer tells us what we will consume? When did the self-perceived "expertise" of others become paramount to our own needs? 

A more pertinent question is why someone would choose, purposefully, not to listen? When someone is describing their perceptions, needs, or desires, would it not behoove us to listen? That will not always mean someone is necessarily correct, but shouldn't we listen first and then make that determination?

When it comes to correcting a problem, have we lost sight of our critical thinking? The shirt sleeves are too short. Option one - zero cost, provide a larger shirt; option two - pay a sewing professional to rebuild the jacket?

The confusion is palpable. The role of any service provider is to deliver value for the customer. That value will be largely determined by the customer. Listen to the customer, strive to understand their need and perceptions. Then push to deliver in the most expeditious and efficient way you can. 

Most important, when you promise, deliver. When you can't, say so. When you fail, own it and do better. Simple, direct, and frankly easy. The fact is, this will work in whatever industry or service you choose.  Are we living up to your expectations? Are we actively listening? Could we do better? david.langham@doah.state.fl.us

44 Million Disabled

There is talk about improvements at the U.S. Census Bureau. That is an organization that catches most people's attention on a decennial basis. If there is no zero in a year, then there is not much activity census-wise. It amazes me how few understand the census. When those zero years approach, the news is replete with mentions. But why?

The U.S. Constitution requires a census. Go have a look at Article I, Section 2, of the Constitution, and you will find the "Enumeration Clause." The point of counting is to distribute the representation in our House of Representatives across the population. 

It is a mistake to say it is for "Congress apportionment" because the Senate is also part of "Congress" and those seats are apportioned by geography and without reference to population. That was one of many compromises that the founders included in the original document. 

There is periodic consternation as to the how, where, and what of the decennial census. Like so much in the world, there are various perspectives, and everyone is welcome to mine. The Constitution does not specify or define the counting process, which is left to the lawmakers and regulators. But as we ponder in 2025, about halfway to our next census effort, the topic is nonetheless being discussed. 

Some pundits have expressed interest in a commentary on U.S.News in March 2024. They take issue with some of the "how" and contend that the Census Bureau is not counting all the "Americans with disabilities." People with limitations or challenges are not uncommon in the world of workers' compensation. Injury, impairment, and disability are all ready points of discussion.

By implication, there is perhaps also a potential that the Bureau is not counting non-Americans with disabilities. The census does not count only citizens and immigrants (those who enter with legal authorization). The Bureau also counts those who have broken the law by entering this country. 

Some see that as challenging. Some contend that certain populations are more difficult to locate and count than others. The Bureau has therefore been known to rely on assumptions, predictions, and estimates. The Bureau admits openly that it under- and overcounts. It publishes its own estimates of its failures. 

However, the pertinent criticism of the U.S. News authors is founded on the fact that the Census Bureau operates every year, not only on a decennial basis. According to the article, your tax dollars are at work "every year" conducting "the American Community Survey." This is directed at housing, employment, and more. This leads to an "estimate() (of) the number of Americans with disabilities."

In 2020, the population of the United States was 331,464,948 according to the Census Bureau. The critics in the U.S. News article are troubled that the Bureau estimates "just 44 million" "Americans with disabilities." So, the critics are incredulous that only 13.3% of Americans suffer from disabilities. There is seemingly less concern about the other residents (here legally or not). 

The crux of their criticism is that the government "primarily focus(es) on functional disability." This is about the "challenges that people face with activities of daily living." The critics complain that this "fail(s) to include people with intellectual and developmental disabilities ... or mental health disabilities ... (and) chronic illnesses." There is the suggestion that these people "may still identify as disabled and face challenges." Some will find that language choice interesting. 

Why does this matter? According to the critics, there are an astounding "353 federal programs ... (that)determine eligibility and receive funding ... based on a variety of ACS data." There are 353 federal programs? These critics also describe how county officials have gone "door-to-door, hosted info sessions, and posted on social media channels to spread the word about" getting money from the federal government. 

These efforts are, therefore, seemingly, about delivering more to those who "identify as disabled." Thus, the vernacular makes a subtle turn. The criticism begins with a reference to people who have "disability" and evolves to people "disabled" (or so "identifying"). The good folks at Merriam-Webster's say that "disabled" means

"impaired or limited by a physical, mental, cognitive, or developmental condition: affected by disability."

Disabled is dependent, in that definition, on the effect. To be "disabled," there is the precursor of "impaired or limited." There is not, in the definition, any delineation for the extent or degree. The suggestion is that any limitation would be sufficient to render at least the self-perception ("identifying as") disabled.

If that is the case, then perhaps there are 330 million disabled Americans (or residents) in the country. This is not likely under the Americans with Disabilities Act. That law provides some extent focus, with the constraint to disability or impairment "that substantially limits one or more major life activities." For clarity, the Americans with Disabilities Act applies to anyone here, not just Americans. 

So, by the numbers, 44 million Americans is 13% of the present 330 million people currently living in America. That is a significant portion. There is some room for flexibility in determining who is disabled, and to some extent it may be self-defined by "identification." 

Therefore, the ideas of impairment, disability, and definition will likely receive further attention as the efforts continue to maximize the attention and attraction of the "353 federal programs" whose funds might provide respite, relief, or support to those who identify with disability or who suffer a disability within the strictest definition. 

Thousands and Thousands

There are many opportunities in life to pause and reflect. There are milestones we may note, though they have meaning only to ourselves. Today, I do so once again.

Earlier in 2025, I delivered my 2,000th professional lecture. That has been a long road that includes almost seventy semester classes taught across three institutions. I have striven to track attendees, but I have taught thousands of students and seminar attendees. I have been privileged to have that opportunity before national audiences in Arkansas, California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Massachusetts, Mississippi, Nevada, New York, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, and West Virginia. 

For years, I changed my intro biography, used at various seminars. First, striving for brevity but also trying to keep up with an approximate number of lectures and blog posts. Now, I can just say "has delivered thousands of lectures." That has a nice ring.

I passed a notable mark in 2022 and celebrated a decade of writing this blog. You find many blogs on the internet, but few that persist for a decade. Many websites include a blog, and yet the posts are old and dated. I am proud of that persistence.

Today, I celebrate another milestone—my bio can now similarly abbreviate with "has written thousands of blog posts." This one marks 2,000. Not exactly Barry Bonds' 73 home runs or Alex Ovechkin's 895th goal to beat Gretzky. But, nonetheless, it gives me pause. It is a life moment. 

The posts are mostly here (1939). But I have written posts for other blogs. My WorkCompCentral posts are preserved in another section, the Off-Site Archives (25). Posts about the challenges and evolution of electronic filing are in eJCC Software (36). Some might count the many other short posts in categories like Regulatory News (85) and Announcements (122). But those are less substantive. I have long elected not to include them in any count. 

There have been some memorable posts for me. One of my earliest suggested, in 2015, that we should be worried about Social Security. See Time for that Bake Sale (August 2015). That is likely still my most read. A decade later, that is a growing concern. I have personally worried about the solvency of that for almost 50 years after some reading in the early 1980s. Some of our challenges are not that unpredicted or unpredictable. 

Likely my most frequent topic was SARS-CoV-2 and the impacts on our world, community, and practice. I keep a list of those, and the second most frequent - AI. Other recurrent topics here are opioids, obesity, and the Code of Judicial Conduct. I am admittedly somewhat predictable.

I get some feedback about topics. Many have questioned, "What does this have to do with workers' compensation?" Usually, that question is misplaced by someone not looking deeply enough. Other times, these posts are clearly beyond the "workers' compensation" title. Nonetheless, my posts are consistently about the law, judging, medicine, and the connections to the workers' compensation community are clear enough. 

It is gratifying to mark the "thousands" milestones. While any of those "thousands" (students/attendees, readers, posts, presentations) might be seen in a positive light, I also see the opposite. With each passing day, we each draw closer to our eventual end. Every achievement, personal and professional, from beginning to end, moves us forward. We will likely each remember a parade of our firsts.

And yet, there will be a commensurate parade also of "lasts." In between, there will be a multitude of this and that, these and those. The day-to-day brings motivation, energy, ennui, and even exhaustion. The world of work can become repetitive, monotonous, and transactional. I have often reflected on how my time in retail, delivery, and food service all became transactional and even blasé.

As I reflect on the brief moment I have spent in Florida workers' compensation, I recall moments of all of that. I reflect on an introspective moment over a decade ago, when I concluded There's No Other Place I Wanna Be (September 2014). That post remains one of my favorites among "thousands."

Over the decades here, I recall many calm days, punctuated with various challenges, stressors, and adventures. I have seen the recurrence of issues, and periodically, there have been legal questions that were downright perplexing in their complexity and analysis. 

I am drawn back to astronomer Carl Sagan (1934-1996). In my youth, he was an oft-cited authority opining on deep topics, including the potential for life on other planets. He wrote, lectured, and changed our world. No, I find no comparison with myself. But I have striven to share some thoughts. 

Sagan became famous for the phrase "billions and billions," a reference to the stars. But he decried the reference. He corrected people and claimed he never said it: "I said 'billion' many times on the Cosmos television series, which was seen by a great many people. But I never said 'billions and billions.'” He noted:

“I’m told that Sherlock Holmes never said, “Elementary, my dear Watson” (at least in the Arthur Conan Doyle books) Jimmy Cagney never said, “You dirty rat”; and Humphrey Bogart never said, “Play it again, Sam.” But they might as well have, because these apocrypha have firmly insinuated themselves into popular culture.”

Of note, he issued this denial in a book called Billions & Billions: Thoughts on Life & Death at the Brink of the Millennium. Intriguing and perhaps poetic. In that, I relate to Sagan. I have had this blog quoted to me over the years. Periodically, those references have been less than accurate reflections of what I actually said here.

I have heard of those who quote this blog in legal proceedings. I have witnessed it in oral arguments. There is self-consciousness and unease when that occurs. This blog is not an authority but perhaps a source at the beginning of one's own analysis. Nonetheless, citation to a blog is dangerous ground. Some years ago, I changed my writer profile to discourage citation as a legal authority: 

This blog is not legal authority and should not be cited in pleadings or arguments.

That has perhaps helped. But to help, it would have to be read. 

I particularly enjoy hearing from folks about posts. I get the sporadic compliment or mention. That is gracious and even heartwarming. That said, I have always written these posts primarily for my own growth, understanding, and reflection. To the extent the entries aid and inform others, so much the better.

Thousands and Thousands. No Carl Sagan, no Cosmos, and yet today I reflect on some thoughts I have left behind. Perhaps they will evaporate should Google ever diminish or disappear (they say the internet is forever, but that is a long time indeed). Perhaps they will merely fade into the obscurity of an ever-growing volume of content. And yet, maybe someone will run across some of this in a hundred years and find some use in the source, reflection, or perspective.

The end is not mine to predict, but the journey is mine to chart. The years here, the pages here, the reflection back - all worthy of a moment. Thousands and Thousands and Thousands today and onward to the next milestones. I hope that each reader likewise has their own milestones and moments worthy of recollection and reflection. Thanks for reading. 

Perspectives on Virtuality

In recent months, the topic of remote work has been in the news. I have also had the opportunity to discuss virtual presence with a variety of employees, customers, and managers. The opinions are diverse and likely reflect some degree of preconception (bias). 

I have spent a lot of hours on predisposition, and it is worthwhile to consider its impact on all of our analyses. See Unseen Influence: Unconscious Predisposition in Dispute Resolution (2025). All professionals would be well advised to spend some time considering predispositions and their potential impacts. 

The trend in our pandemic era was toward virtual work. However, 2025 has brought a significant shift back to the office environment. That has led to worker complaints and dissent, illustrated in a recent Business Insider analysis of one company and its employees' reactions.

The CEO of AT&T addressed the results of an employee survey. He suggested that there will be those who choose to remain with the company and those who seek other paths. He cited a very compelling quote on change:

"If you dislike change, you're going to dislike irrelevance even more."

That is a powerful thought. Change is incredibly persistent. If you have not been career-impacted by it yet, count yourself as fortunate. But also know it is coming nonetheless.  

The AT&T conclusion seems aligned with those I have spoken with recently: a worker who changed jobs after relocating and elected remote work, two who have been mandated from remote to hybrid, and one who has long-term adherence to virtual. Their perspectives have been informative and interesting.

The young person who recently changed jobs and is new to virtual laments the lack of company and camaraderie. Their work seems transactional, and the connection with coworkers and team members is strained despite the generational affinity for digital communications and the raft of platforms that facilitate it. There is some demand for better interaction and collaboration.

One of the recently hybridized worker laments that the work rules in their company are inconsistent and yet constraining. They are back in the office on the premise of collaboration, but none of their team is co-located. They are driving two hours per day to/from work, and yet still interacting with their team and collaborators only by email, phone, and text, just as they might, as readily, from home.

Another recently-hybridized commuter drives less distance and duration each day, but still complains of the wasted commute time. They are adamant that this negatively impacts their productivity and motivation. This worker's team is periodically co-located, but because of self-selected in-office days, it is common to still interact only electronically. There is little coordination regarding selecting the same in-office days. 

One of these related a story of a coworker who has "gone native" in the virtual world. This sounds a bit like Colonel Kurtz (Apocalypse Now, Warner Bros. 1979). This worker produces in sporadic dashes that last many sleepless hours, followed by crashes of similar duration. Their work is not in 8-hour stretches, nor any consistent or repetitive schedule. 

There was some expression of concern for health and welfare in such an environment. That said, some may thrive on an out-of-synch process, driven from project to project with sporadic periods of lethargy. But it sounds a bit like a roller coaster to others. 

Despite these examples, another virtual worker reported no real challenges or concerns with remote work. They have adapted and adjusted to the solitary environment where the only human interaction is digital. They find their day productive and engaging. They communicate electronically, virtually attend meetings, and produce effectively and consistently.

The common theme that draws to the fore seems to be control. The workers are each working in a manner that is largely dictated to them by policy or circumstance. Their affinity for each of the various postures seems influenced by the extent to which each was able to choose their circumstances. Therefore, this may be a significant detriment in the eyes of those being ordered back. It may not be so much the "back" as the "ordered." 

There is likely some generational influence in this debate. The young people today are much more driven by their senses, conclusions, and independence. Like all young generations (and I have now seen a few), they believe they are better equipped and educated to make good decisions than the "old folks" who are hindering them. 

Newsflash - that has always been the case. Every generation feels that way. We have all felt constrained by the old folks, their rules, their paradigms, and their resistance to our new and innovative ideas. The older generations have all felt emotions of "these kids today," and their disconnect from the values of the status quo. 

But, there is reality. The world of work is returning to central office environments. The Great Comeback (c) or Great Inconvenience is here (for most). See Heigh Ho (January 2025). There is an extensive list here. In addition, the federal government and state governments are pushing in that direction as well. 

Those who are still working virtually should be both grateful and focused. Focused on persistently demonstrating their value, resilience, and contribution. I would suggest documentation and reinforcement as important tools. I would suggest that those who are fortunate to work from home remain flexible, engaged, and communicative. 

The world of work is in a constant state of change. The impacts may be disproportionate, disheartening, and disappointing (for some). There is potential for the impacts to be affected by educational achievement, industry, and employer. Nonetheless, this is the present. If you don't like it, stick around a minute and it will undoubtedly change—perhaps in a way you like (maybe not so much). 

Change is constant, anxiety from it is persistent, and whether you like the result or not will be up to you. 

Cow Manure

There is an old joke about a bird failing to plan one winter. I have seen it in various forms over the years. The essentials are a late departure for the southern migration, a bird iced up and crashing, a less-than-respectful cow dropping manure on it, and a short-lived celebration of revival interrupted by the cat who consumes the bird.

A fair rendition of it is here.

Each rendition I have seen includes various lessons the reader should glean: plan better, know when to remain silent, etc.

The primary lesson, however, is understanding that not everyone who does something untoward (manure) is necessarily your enemy. In the story, it is the unexpected manure that brings relief from the cold, revival, and recovery. This parable came back to me in a recent conversation with a young lawyer who lamented the reaction of an aged and decrepit old person (in their 40s, no less) regarding a legal filing.

This young lawyer was hurt (an understatement). They had been embarrassed and felt ridiculed. The admonition in the ancient's (I reiterate, 40s is hardly "old") reaction, correction, and consternation. The entire focus was on emotion. It was all about the younger lawyer.

It took all I had not to revert to the all-too-familiar "snowflake" characterization. It is an easy trope to simply cast today's youth as unable or unwilling to weather criticism. The world of young professionals in 2025 is far different than any I have ever lived in. I lament their shortcomings and seeming fragility. I also will candidly admit that examples of such youth have existed forever; we just did not discuss them so openly and often.

I told the young lawyer about the bird, the ice, the manure, and the cat. I relate the story a bit differently from the version linked above and usually conclude with two main points:

Those who crap on you are not necessarily your enemy, and those who dig you out are not necessarily your friends.

I encouraged this professional to strive to find positivity in every reaction or interaction. Look for the lesson. Rather than lamenting the criticism of a filing (by opposing counsel, senior partner, judge, or client), strive to push down the emotion, embarrassment, or chagrin. Lament and vent, but then find time to ponder the response. Find a path to view it objectively. Find a way to make it a growth path.

No, this will not necessarily make you feel better. Yes, the object may still be in your rearview periodically (after it quits being there constantly). But if you elect to find a lesson in the rebuke, criticism, or shortfall, you can find a path that does not include repeating that stumble, shortfall, or failure.

The alternatives are to bow up, argue, or simply withdraw. Any of these might be the best path in some instances (pick your battles). But the path of learning, growing, and improving will bear more fruit. Failure can exact a significant price. Your reaction to it can trade that price for a better tomorrow, or can merely transform it into a bitter pill that sits in your stomach and rots.

The good news is that you may choose. Go shout at the partner who eviscerated your memo. File an acidic motion for rehearing. Shout at your opponent and vow revenge! Or, remembering the unsung bovine hero in the bird parable, tend to yourself and recover. Be better situated for the next time. Grow.

It is not about the cow's intent. Is the partner inspiring me? Does the partner hate me? Is the judge demeaning me? Take the criticism as an opportunity to learn how to do better next time. 

There are many life lessons. In my experience, and now lamenting my 40s are well past, the easy ones were never worth as much as the crashes into the barnyard. Cow manure might be an insult or perhaps merely fertilizer for next year's crop. 

Think on it.

Always?

I recently read a headline from CNN Science. It noted, essentially, that the "Earth is spinning faster." That is eye-catching. The article proceeds with a discussion of "milliseconds" in each day. The concern is that some days are just over one millisecond, "less than 24 hours."

For clarity, a millisecond is one thousandth of a second. In numerical terms, it is 0.001 seconds. Most of us struggle to distinguish one second from the next, and this measure would have us divide "one Mississippi" or "one thousand one" into a thousand parts and find relevance in each. This seems much like examining a single grain of sand on a vast beach.

There are 24 hours each day, 1,440 minutes, 86,400 seconds, and 86,400,000 (86 million) milliseconds. One of those 86 million seems a curious concern. One millisecond per day does not equate to one second each year.

Nonetheless, there was a focus there on July 10. It was "the shortest day of the year so far, lasting 1.36 milliseconds less than 24 hours." If each day of the year were 1.36 milliseconds short, then the year would come out 496.4 milliseconds short, or roughly half a second. Believe me or don't we have data on this gathered by the "International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service" and "the US Naval Observatory."

The CNN author candidly concludes that this discrepancy is nothing new or unexpected. And, furthermore, that it "doesn’t have any obvious effect on everyday life." So, we might wonder why there is an "International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service" to keep careful track of these?

The author contends that these milli-fluctuations might someday have a cumulative impact on our "computers, satellites, and telecommunications." This is comparable, apparently, to the disaster in 2000 when all the world's computers stopped working because of the dreaded "Y2K problem, which threatened to bring modern civilization to a halt."

New flash for the younger generations - we were threatened, preached to, and disquieted as the millennium approached. The experts told us that in designing computers, we had shortcut our date references and that the computers would all fail us once the 19xx turned to a 20xx. Massive dollars were invested, both in computer programming and in our anxieties.

On New Year's Day 2000, the computers all remained functional. The planes continued to take off and land, the banking worked, and the world neither ended nor even changed much, despite the dire predictions. Perhaps the predictions were misguided or wrong? Possibly, the flurry of programming in the late 90s merely fixed all the potential failures?

Despite the "never mind" outcome of Y2k, there is now this concern among scientists regarding the shortened days, with a potential cumulative effect of almost one-half of a second this year. There is likely some reason this news story is not leading the headlines on social media.

The solution? Well, it is not a new problem. In reality, this planet has likely been experiencing these fluctuations since the dawn of time (Og and Grok likely simply did not notice). But, since 1972, the officials at the "International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service" have been periodically fixing the problem: "Since 1972, a total of 27 leap seconds have been added" to our days.

An extra second sprinkled in periodically keeps us all straight, much like a spoonful of sugar, perhaps. The experts may, eventually, remove a second for the first time. Despite the difficulty of making these findings either relevant or interesting, in the end, there is no real issue for concern here. Congratulations on reaching this far into a seemingly non-story.

Nonetheless, the scientific analysis in the article bears our consideration. One scientist is quoted regarding the impact of "the moon and the tides," which can cause the earth to "spin slower" at times. And these influences "compound ... the fact that during the summer Earth naturally spins faster."

Read that last scientific conclusion again, and think about it: "during the summer Earth naturally spins faster."

That pulled me back to third grade. I recall the revelation there that the world is a vast place, with some balances. The one we learned in third grade is that seasons are geography-specific. The third-grade example was that when it is winter in the U.S., it is summer in Australia. I suspect the teacher used Australia because of kangaroos, koalas, and other oddities that made the place resonate with our young minds.

Half a moment. That revelation would suggest, perhaps, that it is always summer somewhere. This is way more believable than "it is always sunny in Philadelphia," an axiom that I have personally witnessed debunked more than once. Then, if it is always summer somewhere, is the Earth rotating faster wherever it is summer at the moment?

Some are likely scratching their heads at this point. A few are hung up on the "summer somewhere" point and thinking of the old "it's five o'clock somewhere ..." Others are more openly screaming, "What does this have to do with workers' compensation?" No worries, I get that a lot.

Workers' compensation is all about science. There are instances in which no medical opinion is needed to establish the accident or injury, but it is nonetheless often required there. What are the probabilities for recovery, the extent of impairment, and the probable future care required? Science! What are the financial needs, the investment probabilities, and the loss ratios? Science!

Science is critical. I have been here before: Consensus in the Absence of Proof (January 2021); Tootsie Pops Make You Think (August 2021); Show Me The Science (September 2021); Science or Art (November 2023). Science should be replicable and predictable. The same experiment performed here in Paradise should produce the same result if it were performed instead in Australia. Not prediction, guess, or hypothesis—result, evidence, proof.

The workers' compensation system relies on medical opinions - a lot. The scientist's job is two-fold: (1) administer the science and (2) explain it to the rest of us. In that, the "summer somewhere" resonates. Perhaps my assumption is wrong—summer is not a constant. Perhaps my third-grade comprehension is too basic, and summer is actually more complex (or even a mere State of Mind, Surf School Dropouts, 2012).

But the real point is in (2) above. The scientist's job is to tell us about it. That is, explain it to us. Make your conclusion ("the planet spins faster when it is summer" somewhere) logical for us. Don't lay down broad, glossy statements and conclusions without the factual and necessary foundation. Explain not merely what you have concluded, but why and how you got there.

The scientist must remember that we did not all go to school to study their specialty (medicine, actuary, etc.). Some of us have only our third-grade exposure to seasons and our personal experiences (blueberries must be in season somewhere). The scientist must explain, educate, and guide us beyond the "faster in summer" and answer the broader questions, whether apparent or not.

1. How do you know it?
2. Why does it matter?
3. Is that opinion or fact?

We have been misled before (standing in the Philadelphia rain and pondering the word "always"). We have a breadth of knowledge and experiences, but not yours. We require your conclusions and your sound and useful explanations.