How To Train the Technology Monster We Cannot See
by Stephen P. Cummings, MSW, ACSW, LSW
What is…that?”
That was me, saying this out loud in my car, idling at an intersection last fall. It was a Friday, and I was driving to the office. I glanced at my shared calendar, conveniently accessible on my iPhone via Microsoft Exchange. This is a calendar set up so my colleagues can see it. And add to it. At that moment, sitting in my car, I discovered someone had added to it. It was a meeting for which I hadn’t planned, but was expected to join.
Fridays are intended to be “protected days” on my work calendar. From Monday through Thursday, I engage in the usual activities: I teach, attend meetings, prepare courses, and tend to administrative duties. One day a week, I’m afforded time to work on productivity without interruption. This is a privilege, and something unheard of in my previous social work practice.
Typically, I’m permitted to avoid scheduling Friday meetings. And at that moment last fall, driving in to work, I was picturing a day free of interruption. Yet, there it was, a meeting on my calendar from 1:30 to 3:00 p.m. on campus. It was a moment not unlike Ross Geller from the show Friends discovering someone had eaten his sandwich out of the office refrigerator. What seemed on the surface like a small inconvenience felt bigger. It was an injustice, the expectations of my day shattered.
Readers of this tech column can probably guess that, yes, I’m at fault here. Nobody can actually schedule me on my behalf. I’d formally accepted a meeting invitation a while earlier, not really thinking about what the date was. These electronic calendar invitations often come in flurries, inviting me to click thoughtlessly through a list to get the requests out of my email. For all my belief in the power of tech, I’d fallen prey to a classic blunder, the lazy “get it off my desk” action without thinking that I was actually saying “yes” to something. In a burst of energy, I sought to tame “the tech monster” with the easiest tool at my disposal: Click, forget, move on.
I own this mistake, this failure of taming the monster. Yet, this is symbolic of a much larger issue—a problem I believe is very familiar to social workers. My calendar mistake is small, but these minute technology-facilitated intrusions resemble the kind of pile-ups we experience. These small intrusions create, over time, a kind of monster that saps our energy in a quiet, stealthy way.
Creating an environment to allow the monster to grow and thrive is predicated on the following elements:
As social workers, we are “there” for our clients, and often, out of our devotion to support others, we give time we don’t always have, even for requests that appear small.
Our clients and colleagues know we seek to be part of the solution and will often make time for them, regardless of the magnitude of the problem.
Technology is making it even more difficult to keep our boundaries clear, because the technology we rely on is helping to deplete our time even more.
The first two points are obvious, and the third is, too, but not in the usual way we discuss the topic of technology. Usually, we talk about The Monster We Can See. I know we’ve all experienced how technology has filled our daily routines with stuff and nonsense. Social media platforms and digital network tools are designed to maintain our attention, one swipe or scroll or flick at a time. This forces us to make choices about how we will spend the next five minutes, as well as the week ahead. The very nature of these choices can seem unnecessary—I don’t need to watch another Cute Cat Video (although they can be fun). However, if friends or colleagues share something trivial but amusing, they may wonder (or even be a little hurt) if you don’t validate to them what they’ve shared. Yes, that cat video is a time waster, but it was my mother who shared it with me, and she may be sharing the video as a means to communicate with me, her son. Thus, the choice remains.
From a professional social work point of view, choosing not to engage in social media platforms at all means, potentially, not being able to engage with the social work profession in a meaningful and useful way. Using social media professionally is a form of Taming the Monster, or at least, getting the monster to work for us.
But there’s another monster. One that sneaks in and drains us of our resources quietly. These are the technology tools our employers or agencies use, or the technology our clients use. It’s the urgent emails students send through the course management system on Saturday evening. It’s the text the client sends his social work therapist. This is the Monster We Can’t See, using technology to find a way into our lives.
This Monster is an old friend of mine. While working as a hospital social worker, I experienced a range of immediate requests. Sometimes these would be “curbside consults,” a natural feature of working in a hospital. Often, this would take the form of a social work colleague passing by me in the hallway, checking to see if I had a moment to review an ongoing patient case. Other times, these requests were misdirected. One classic example: I’ve received messages on my pager to address an emergency on a unit “RIGHT AWAY,” only to find the “emergency” was merely a prescription assistance form that needed to be faxed. When we factor technology into these demands on our time, the net effect is that we are more pushed, more stretched, and more driven to something resembling “burnout.” On top of all the demands of our time, technology opens up more pathways to our time, our schedules, and our expertise.
What pathways are these? As I noted at the beginning, the shared email calendar is both an incredibly useful tool and one that can be troublesome if the social worker isn’t monitoring and addressing what goes into that calendar. In my current role, my student advisees can schedule themselves onto my calendar for meetings. However, I must be clear to students the parameters for self-scheduling. Otherwise, I may find my “protected time” vulnerable to student requests. The solution seems evident. Be mindful of time, plan ahead, and make it clear to students when I am available.
Consider the practice parallel. I recently discussed a case application with a clinical social worker, who talked about wanting to meet her clients where they are while being clear about the boundaries. In her example, her client expressed an interest in texting her during the week with concerns or questions. However, by opening that electronic communication pathway, she acknowledged the risk of that client sending texts over the weekend. Does this put the client at risk? Does the social worker feel comfortable simply ignoring the texts over the weekend?
The solution was that, while texting is one way to “meet the client where the client is,” it’s important to factor in all the implications of that choice. Texting is convenient, but for this social work-client relationship, it may not be the best way to support the client fully.
Recently, a highly-regarded researcher posited one solution—just stop using email. The values espoused by this person are understandable: in our professional lives, we are undervaluing long-form thought and conversation over short-term interactions that digital tools like email encourage. I read that and smiled. I like to believe I’m capable of thought at a deep level. However, my colleagues, students, and other professional relationships rely on email and its various modern analogues (Slack, Skype, WhatsApp, just to name a few). These tools manage the flow of information in a way that, despite how frustrating they can be sometimes, remains indispensable. For my colleagues in practice, communicating to clients in various methods, appropriate to that client’s needs, reflects an understanding of what works best for that client.
Boundaries are a focus of the NASW Code of Ethics (2018) and the recent update includes the nature of technology in establishing expectations at the onset of the relationship. Section 1.03 states that “social workers should discuss with clients the social workers’ policies concerning the use of technology in the provision of professional services.” This is fundamental in our ability to serve clients in a transparent manner. However, it’s important to note here that, as technology develops and changes over time, so does The Monster. What we never conceived of 20 years ago is not only commonplace today, but necessary.
Over time, I have learned to be on guard for The Monster We Cannot See. I continue to work on seeing The Monster, and make sure that, even though it’s easy to swat the monster away, it’s better to understand the tools being used, and harness them.
References and Reading
NASW. (2018). Code of Ethics. Retrieved from https://www.socialworkers.org/About/Ethics/Code-of-Ethics/Code-of-Ethics-English
Newport, C. “Is email making professors stupid?” The Chronicle Review. Retrieved from: https://www.chronicle.com/interactives/is-email-making-professors-stupid
Stephen P. Cummings, MSW, ACSW, LISW, is a clinical assistant professor at the University of Iowa School of Social Work, where he is the administrator for distance education.