The other day, I tried calling a theatre colleague. Somewhere along the way I’d lost their number, so I looked up the theatre’s details – only to find there wasn’t a phone number listed. None for the stage door – these have been disappearing for a while now – nor for the box office. No phone number at all.
I was shocked! That surprise quickly turned to curiosity, I’m interested to understand the thinking behind this decision and if it’s pointing to the way of the future…
For me it speaks to a bigger question about whether or not were losing connection with each other, and what effect this might have, both in the short and longer term.
I recently spoke with a theatre producer about how younger people in our industry seem unused to speaking on the phone. She agreed and added that her own children, now young adults, feel anxious about phone calls. It reminded me of my daughter, who once dreaded calling anyone, even her grandparents. At university, she asked me to phone about her student loan. We practised together: first I made the calls while she listened, then I sat beside her as she tried. Gradually, her confidence grew. Now, she handles calls at work or to the plumber without hesitation.
Being able to speak directly with someone is an essential life skill. Are we losing the ability to speak over the phone, preferring texts, voice notes and emails? Does it matter? No doubt something else will take the place of calls, but right now we’re in that betwixt and between space, figuring it out as we go.
My working life pre-dates computers! The majority of my important dealings were done in person or over the phone. I still have the urge to call, to speak, to hear someone’s voice. But fewer people seem willing to talk, and fewer offices have phones.
If I call someone I’m immediately asked to email instead. I do understand, people are busy. But emails, to me, are a series of monologues. To reach a decision or make an arrangement can take days, sometimes weeks, of back-and-forth messages. By contrast, a phone call is a dialogue. In half an hour you can cover dates, fees, timings and even share a few minutes of real conversation, ‘how was your holiday?’, ‘How’s your son?’ Coming away not only with an agreement but also a sense of connection.
Speaking aloud feels so much more natural to me (but then I am an oral storyteller!). When we speak, we can hear tone and intention. We can build rapport, explore creative ideas, sense the energy of another person.
Are we really making progress?
How do we bridge the gap between our deep seated human need for connection and our exciting, fast paced digital age?
Not long ago, I phoned a theatre hoping to speak with their artistic director, someone I know a little. The person who answered asked what it was about. I explained it was an off-the-record chat about a possible production with commercial potential. ‘They don’t take phone calls, can you put it in an email’ came the reply, before the line went dead.
In contrast, I recently met someone from another theatre for a cuppa to discuss a project. We talked for forty productive and genuinely enjoyable minutes. We shared ideas, laughed and even discussed how differently people do business today. They admitted they once found phone calls daunting, until a stint in box office cured them. Now, they said, they too prefer dialogue to monologues.
What if they hadn’t been able to practice, if there was no box office phone? What happens next? How do we keep connections alive when we seem unable, or unwilling, to speak to one another?
I recognise that communication is changing, but I believe that our need for human connection isn’t. Our voices remain one of the most powerful tools we have.
Clear, confident communication builds trust, connection and results – whether that’s in the boardroom, on stage, or over the phone.
I help professionals and teams communicate with impact and authenticity.
If stronger, more connected communication is on your agenda, I’d be delighted to support you. Let’s start a conversation, via email…. or, of course, over the phone!