Texxxting

The title says it all, just rather misleadingly. Texting is to communication as porn is to film: quick, dirty, and available and accessible to anybody with fingers.

I fought the texting bug for a long time. Part of it was frugality: my family's cell plan didn't pay for texting, so it was all on me, and I wasn't about to drop a dime every time I sent or received messages that would take less than a minute to say for free.

Overall, though, the action just seemed so frivilous and petty. It was rapidly becoming a cliche; I could readily point out my peers that had become avid "texters". It seemed to be an entity onto itself, disconnected just enough from a phone conversation to be in its own little world of digital communication, and so suffered from the awkwardness and inaccessability of all new technologies.

To me, it was like what it must have been like to be introduced to the telegraph for the first time. [In a dramatically incredulous tone]: "Wait, you're telling me that I just move my fingers around really fast, and the person I'm 'talking' to will 'hear' what I'm 'saying'?"

Now I've come to realize that texting has its place. It's perfect for cute little "just 'cuz" statements that wouldn't warrant a full conversation; I used to accomplish this by logging into my voicemail and sending a voice message to somebody else's phone, until they made it so you can only do that within one's network. It's ideal for finding out if somebody is awake/alive. It's excellent for sending somebody snippits of information, like reminders, directions, phone numbers, prices, locations, etc. But would you like to know what it's not good for?

Having a whole damn conversation.

Texting conversations are the worst. Just the absolute worst. Now, there is a limit I will tolerate. If there is one topic to be discussed and/or it has a visible end in sight, I will tolerate text conversations. The other day I wanted to figure out how my friend's doctor appointment (is it doctor's?) went, so I asked her. She told me. I asked for a few more details, and she told me. I asked how she was feeling, and she told me, and then asked me the same. I told her, and then asked when she'd be home. She told me, and I said I was excited to see her then. Easy peasy.

But catching up with somebody? Shooting the breeze? Engaging in small talk? Planning the details of an event? Any conversation that would take more than five or so minutes to have?? Use your words. And not your finger words, your mouth words.

And that's what it really comes down to: time. Texting is supposed to be convenient. It is supposed to be a way to send small bursts of information without having to risk getting drawn into a lengthy conversation. It is supposed to substitute for spoken word when speech is not possible. So if you are saying something that requires more than five or so exchanges, it no longer makes sense to avoid getting into a full conversation, because guess what, you're doing it except with fingers and lag-time instead of with lips and in realtime.

So why do people do it?

More specifically, why is texting so damn popular?

I've already explored some of the reasons texting can be appropriate. But there are many people who regularly take it to the extreme, who are "texters", who have whole conversations with people thru the medium.

I'm not entirely sure yet, but I think I alluded to the problem when talking about getting caught in lengthy conversations: It's because people either don't know how to communicate with other people or would rather avoid it at all costs. It's because people no longer feel the need to think on their feet, to concentrate for more than 10 seconds at a time.

And if all the technology exists to avoid the tedious and taxing process of speaking words, why wouldn't they text? Except, of course, for the fact that human beings are not designed to do so. Biologically, we communicate with each other the same way animals do: through noises and body language. (Yeah, pheremones too, but not so much now.) Our brain is hardwired to take in animal-to-animal communication primarily through our ears and eyes. There is also a certain amount of continuity in the process: normally, it takes more than a split second to communicate and accurately interpret most messages, and so all participants must engage in the communication from beginning to end. (Of course, conversations can be split up over time, but normally we must enter a "When last we left our heroes..." statement at the beginning of each segment.)

This is true in face to face communication. The next logical step was written language, which changes things somewhat. However, the basics are still there. The information is taken in entirely through our eyes, but it is in the form of written text, which represents information designed to be received through our ears. Most people are trained to speak before they are trained to write, and so their writing comes to closely, if not exactly, resemble their speaking. This is why a good writer can develop a strong "voice", and a good reader can pick up on those cues. Best yet is when the reader knows the writer: we have all experienced "hearing" a friend's voice while reading a letter from them. Finally, there is some level of continuity. Most written communication will have some sort of structure, almost a plot, that resembles the continuity of a spoken conversation. It is possible to take a break in the middle of reading a letter or book and pick it up later, though some remembering and perhaps reminding will be required the next time around. What's more, it takes a set amount of time to both write and read the message, and those times are often very similar. (Is this true? Can people write about as fast as they read? Look that up, future B.)

But then we take texting. Texting is an emulation of writing, so it is twice removed from our most natural form of communication. What's more, it is thrice removed from its original form: handwriting, typewriting, and then digital writing. (Or maybe computer typing could be considered an emulation of typewriting, and then texting an emulation of computing, which would make the form of texting once-twice removed?)

This is alright by itself, though. The "purity" of the communication is not the biggest problem with it. The problem is that it tries to be something it's not. Handwriting knows it cannot portray body language, tone of voice, facial expression, posture, gestures, and the like, and so most writers will either substitute (emoticons!) or consolidate (by communicating less ambiguously by using words most effectively); it also has the added benefit of being less bound by temporal matters, and so it is more accessible to those who are not quick on their wits or are without considerable continuous free time. Phone conversations lack only the visual components of face-to-face communication, and so will compensate accordingly.

Texting, however, has it all mixed up and backwards. It occurs on a device that is primarily designed for spoken communication. It is the impaired and imitative younger sibling of Instant Messaging, who has accomplished the marvelous feat of being the closest approximation of the exact middle between writing and speaking. It is self-limiting: only 160 characters per message unless you want to pay for two texts, you have to relearn how to type in words, and your maximum typing speed is limited to the fact that only two fingers can be in motion at once.1

If somebody were to describe such a thing to me before cell phones had become so ubiquitous, I would have to respond in a dramatically incredulous tone that expressed utter ignorance as to how such a thing could be useful. It seems like a lot of folks never stopped to ask that question, or instinctually answered, "I'll talk on it!"

Which is where we find ourselves currently, and where my confusion lies.

The missing link in my thesis2: I need to account for every unique feature of texting. I've discussed how its form and function are similar to other forms of communcation. Now to figure out how they are unique. The form is not unique in the slightest: it is using a preexisting device and a preexisting dialect (I consider IM a dialect of English) via preexisting means (people have been dialing words on their telephone dials and keypads for decades).

The function, however, is somewhat novel. Texting is capable of doing only some of the same things handwriting, typing, IM, and their ilk are. It is only appropriate for a select set of tasks that the previous are able to accomplish.

However, it combines form and function in a very unique way. While it may fail utterly in completing the most core function of visible language--sustaining an extensive dialog--it succeeds at broadening the accessibility of other situational uses of language. (See my list of approriate uses of texting above.) Example: we can easily write a short, cute statement on a piece of paper to serve as an adorable surprise...but can we avoid obligating the recepient to respond? There are, of course, ways to deliver the message and have it be completely unexpected, but they would all require additional preparation.3 With texting, we can simply press send and know that either a) the person will be reading it immediately, b) the person will be reading it as soon as they are in service, or c) the person will be reading it in the near future. Best of all, it acts as a stand-alone message: unlike a phone call or an attempt to leave a voicemail, there is no immediate request (obligation, demand) of the recepient's time. They can enjoy the message at their leisure.

It is for all these reasons that I cannot say full-out that texting is no good. It serves its purpose. But for gossake, people, stop with the lengthy conversations. It makes me think that you don't really value my time since you'd be wasting less of it if you just called, or that you don't really want me to respond. Or that you want my fingers to be sore. Well I've got a finger for ya.

P.S. And stop getting the last text in with a "K" when we've been texting continuously for a few minutes already and I know you still have your phone in your hand. It's a total waste of a text, and it makes me think you had something else to say when you don't. I don't know how I feel about "Bye!" yet, but I'm leaning away from approval.

Gossake: It's the new, secular version of "god's sake". People don't know how to pronounce that anyway. It's not "god sake", people, it's "god's". Otherwise, pronounce it like a compound word, without the pause in the middle, and then spell it "godsake".

1. All you Richie Riches with your unlimited texting and your sideways phones with qwerty keyboards that let you type all you want with ease can just shush. I'm talking about when texting first hit the scene: the former only occurred once texting got popular and was viewed as a viable, lucrative cell phone option; the latter is often for internet-enabled phones anyway, and is clearly a mobile application of IM, not a jazzed-up version of texting.

2. "That texting should never be used for full conversations", soon to be revised to...

3. To be completely unexpected would mean the sender would have to be absent, since simply being present would allow for some statistically significant level of expectation.