We Are Known

"Nothing that is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have said in the dark shall be heard in the light, and whatever you have whispered in private rooms shall be proclaimed on the housetops."

I.

I couldn't help but think of this Judgment Day prophecy as I read about the Ashley Madison hack. The Judgment Day isn't here yet, but millions of families are experiencing their own smaller version. This week's Economist frets: "People will lose their jobs. Celebrity magazines and gossip columnists will have a field day." It's been worse, tragically. Despair has apparently driven some of the customers to suicide. The newspaper continues: "But perhaps the greatest significance of this episode is that it illustrates, more vividly than ever before, the woeful state of internet security." Well, yes, Ashley Madison is the umpteenth dead canary on the subject of cyber safety, and maybe this one has given the tech industry a jolt of urgency that will keep our data safer in the future if that's possible. Ashley Madison itself is surely ruined, and if the hackers have tossed this horrible website on the digital ash heap, then something good beyond improved data security has come about.

Meanwhile, and I think more significantly, we are warned, by the hack and by that repellent prophecy: Things have a way of coming to the light, and one way or another, they will.

II.

The Economist's editorial echoes the prophecy: "No doubt some people signed up on a whim, while going through a rough patch in a relationship, or while drunk. In the past, the mere contemplation of infidelity left no physical traces. But now millions of people's thoughts and deeds are open to public scrutiny." Proclaimed on the housetops.

Technology's brought the housetops closer, hasn't it? A hacker with a grudge could easily publish my digital profile - how I spend my time and money, where, when, and what I click. Companies have that information and use it for advertising, but it could also be used for embarrassment or worse. I find that thought as horrifying as the Bible verse. Sure, I try, in my tweeting and posting, to shape the image of the thoughtful, funny, family man who occasionally has something interesting to say. But my inner thoughts and behaviour are more than this, much of which I would like to remain covered, even if there are plenty of corporations and government agencies who (if inclined) could piece all of these together and click post. To be so fully known and not on my terms but on the terms of some anonymous institution or prankster is a hellish thought, and the network of machines I'm writing on has a much better memory than we do.

III.

Ironically, Ashley Madison's customers were probably driven by a desire to be known. It's a tension we all feel. We're petrified of being found out, and we're disturbed by how much soulless corporations, government agencies, insurers, and employers have on us, what someone with the computer know-how could dig up on us - even if we have, more or less, nothing to hide. There are intimate thoughts and feelings that belong to our inner selves that, if someone knew, could be used as cutting weapons to the most fragile part of our beings.

Still, we want to be known. We want eyes that see, hands that touch, hearts that feel these parts of us and acknowledge, understand, affirm, correct, forgive, and love. That's what we're to do for each other. That's what friendship is for, and that's also what marriage is for.

I suspect that most adulterers are in it for more than carnal passion (as delightful as that is). The Biblical euphemism for sex is "to know," and that hints at the truth that sex is, or is meant to be, a deeper knowledge of someone, that souls entangle themselves together as bodies do, oneness in a deeper sense. That's why we holy rollers keep insisting that sex and marriage are one in the same and physical unity consummates spiritual unity. The search for sex elsewhere, then, even if it's just pictures or mental images, could be a search for deeper knowledge, whatever we tell ourselves otherwise.

IV.

The author of Hebrews writes that sin "easily entangles us." How true, and this includes infidelity, which can be the results of "series of bad decisions" anyone can make, including creating an Ashley Madison profile "on a whim, while going through a rough patch... while drunk." Ashley Madison is designed to make this deadly entanglement easier. (It's ironic that a website designed as a platform for infidelity couldn't be faithful with its own users' data) The downfall of the website, of course, won't end a human failing that's old and popular; it's supply for an insidious, common demand. But there's a better way of knowing and being known.

V.

I'm a Christian, because to be a Christian is to revel in being known and deeply loved. The Psalmist sings:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!  

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;    you discern my thoughts from afar.... 

Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before,  and lay your hand upon me.

If this is true, then it is either extremely scary or unspeakably joyous. I don't know how it makes you feel, but the Psalmist rejoices, and I do to. This knowledge isn't for maximising customer service, and it isn't to sell to a third party. It isn't for a list of enemies of the state. It is not to commodify us or use us or manipulate or hurt. This is the knowledge of Love himself, who is the ultimate Lover, because he knows us like no other, because he made us. He sees and delights in his workmanship, our talents, our potential, our joys, our humour, our place. Yes, he is well aware of our wretchedness. He knows the extent of our unfaithfulness, whether or not we find our names on hacked spreadsheets. Still, in his love he has drawn near, and we're invited to turn away from all that has warped us and delight in his love and, in doing so, be what we're created to be.

If this is true, then all will be known, one way or another, even the parts they haven't managed to digitise. This should discomfort us, except that, though we're known, but we're also loved in places nothing on this earth can reach.

VI.

There's a reminder here, not only for the married, but for anyone in relationship. As far as appropriate and possible, let's know our colleagues, our friends, our family members, and our spouses, and love their wonderful parts and do so in spite of their horrid parts. For those of us who are married, this means pursuing and receiving intimate knowledge with our spouses and not nurturing hopes to find it elsewhere. It means going on the difficult, patient, and wonderful journey of knowing and loving another person, and in doing so, giving them a foretaste of the love of God.

No, I Won't Let Business Jargon Dominate the Way I Communicate

Recently, a friend of mine worried that, as an MBA candidate, I won't be able to escape adding business jargon to every sentence I produce. Every sentence I speak, he warned, will start sounding like I memorized the latest fad-speak from that new must-read management guru or one of those blog posts designed to help you to be a better leader and enhance your productivity.

Don't worry. I may be incubating in business jargon, but I won't let it change me! And I have good reasons for this. 

Let me unpack the difficulties with business jargon. Business jargon fails to align end user desires with the marketing intention of my communication targets. This results in a loss of communication value which disrupts the synergy I normally have with my ideation partner. Such disruption means that both myself and my communication partner fail to ideate to the scale that we are accustomed to and our productivity falters. Another result of the loss of communication value is a lack of bandwidth available to accomplish the day's deliverable, which could cause me to lose leverage with communication customers.

Likely, if some business evangelists are utilizing business jargon beyond their building capabilities, they won't be able to circle back to their core competencies on their own. They need a change agent willing to give them the face time needed to provide a life hack to see that their interests are aligned to a more customer-centric, value-producing style of communication. The change agent will reach out with a holistic approach to sustainable communication, streamlining words and sentences in ways that make the end user feel empowered. The key pivot point is a strategy of organic communication vocabulary that breaks through the clutter for maximum impact. Once sustainable communication becomes part of their DNA, each sentence, email, or text will have a positive value-added for a greater return on investment, enabling communicators to develop their own personal brand and emerge as thought leaders. Communication sustainability will provide the right end-user solutions to every enterprise.

So don't worry - moving forward, I won't be drinking the Kool-Aid of Business Jargon, because communication transparency is a win-win for everyone involved.

Kindled

A long time ago, in a world different than our own, there arose a reading tablet called Kindle. You might remember those times - Blackberry was the hottest smart phone, Tony Soprano was the hottest antihero, Apple computers were white and plastic and came with tiny, colorful iPods. Back then, though a Kindle was an expensive luxury that I, a late-adapter from the lower-rungs of the nonprofit world, could not afford, I was under no illusion about the future of reading - electric readers would take over for the same reasons MP3s took over - mobility, access, frugality, and choice would move the masses from the page to the screen. But I lamented my affection for the book in book form, and worried about further isolation and individualism that these devices promote.

Well, I finally joined the last decade when my in-laws gave me a Kindle Fire for Christmas. There's a bespectacled book bore in me that doesn't want to admit the device's advantages, first of which are a healthier back for not lugging around three hardbacks when I go to the supermarket. The sheer volume available is breathtaking - a book-lover is the proverbial kid in the candy store. I started to consume: The entire Sherlock Holmes for €2.99! Hey, I haven't read The Three Musketeers yet! (still haven't, but the pixely plot awaits my time and inclination, and hey, it was free.) Oooo, a journalist I like just tweeted a Kindle book deal - click, click, BUY! Ohhhh... an internet connection.... I won't be too long....

Choice is also the problem, you know. The opportunity cost of sitting and enjoying a good book is not just any work I could be doing or any relationship I could be building, but the thousands upon thousands of books plus the World Wide Web at my fingers. Not only do I not need to get up to distract myself - I don't even need to move my head. That nagging voice of "would you rather..." or, "you could always begin this again...", not to mention, "has anybody liked my clever Facebook post yet?" is now inseparable from the book I'm actually reading. They share the same page. With an electronic reading device, suppressing this voice requires an extra and unwelcome force of will to reach the patient pleasure of good literature.

Good literature is a patient pleasure, and that is why it's so rewarding. Like marriage, friendship, art, worship, or a good meal, it's a pleasure that can start slow, requiring a thousand tiny steps of faith, faith that our world's most urgent noises can be ignored at this one moment and the moment after that in order to get there. Oh, but once you get there! It is a deep, abiding, and enriching experience, and there is nothing else like it. For this, I am thankful for authors. Aside from those who were willing to have a real relationship with me, it's hard to think of anyone who has done me more of a kindness than to write something well for me to read. I've experienced this on my Kindle, of course, and the best prose finally quiets my distracted mind and gets me to stop thinking about how pixels are less personal than paper. The distance, however, is greater.

There's another problem. I own a Kindle Fire, which is useful for me as a grad student because it can process academic documents for research. However, the Fire also means Amazon advertising. We're used to the intrusion of adverts in magazines, radio, and television, but a good book is sacred ground. Sure, I supposed you can advertise after some bubble-gum mystery thriller, and I love reading those. But after I finished Home by Marilynne Robinson, I wanted my heart and mind to be left undisturbed. My finishing the last precious, perfect sentence was the worst, I mean the worst moment to flood my screen with, "if you liked this book, you'll love...." type ads. I wanted to sit on my couch and continue to feel. I didn't want to consume.

I'm writing these words as someone who will still continue to kindle. (I'm using the word as a verb completely divorced from its original meaning. You're welcome, Amazon.) The physical experience of reading is comfortable - better than the competitors I've seen and better than the Amazon app on the iPad. As much as I poke fun at the tyranny of choice, it has given me access to books that would be otherwise more difficult to reach, particularly here in Germany. Moreover, it's become part of my regular devotional ritual. I hope it's not sacrilegious to say that I find the digital Book of Common Prayer more navigable than the paper form, and it's also handy when I'm reading devotional literature, which can be bulky in paper form. Ironically, the discipline of simply setting aside time to read Scripture diminishes the problems I have with distractions and advertising that I have with novels. I may, of course, use the classic print and page form the next time I buy the kind of fiction that I expect to be a great read. And yes, I do worry about the company's competitive practice and treatment of workers (some good discussion here on the NYTimes Editorial page during Amazon's dispute with Hachette and it's not an infrequent conversation topic during my studies - may collect my thoughts for a later post).

It's part of our humanity to be surprised by rapid change - printing presses, trains, steam ships, automobiles, all sorts of horrible machines of war, and it tangles our minds to drift with the times, all the while wondering what's happening to our souls. I could be trying to have my cake and eat it, but I have hope that the irreversible digitisation of reading won't take its soul.