Genuine exchanges are possible.
Our need to be with one another is a powerful attractor. We are a social species and have evolved a need to be in community with other humans. At its most basic, this is physical connection. The touch of another’s hand, a caress, a hug.
Neuroscience has informed us about chemicals like oxytocin — popularly referred to as the “cuddle hormone” — whose release into the brain is stimulated by touch, reinforcing behaviours associated with relationships and bonding.
It’s why newborns are immediately placed on the chests of their mothers. We’ve also seen the damage that lack of touch can do in the studies of infants and children in orphanages where they have been deprived of contact with others. Michele Norris has written poignantly in The Washington Post about how the virus is depriving us of the rituals we need to help us process our pain. Rituals that bring us together in community.
And still.
I am regularly surprised and delighted by the quality of the conversations taking place via the electronic platforms that are now part of daily existence for so many of us. Human interaction intermediated by technology is becoming a space for genuine conversation, connectedness, even intimacy. I have been part of several meetings where people have reported having this kind of experience.
Of course, the current crisis has a lot to do with this. We don’t really have another avenue for connecting to each other at the moment, so maybe this is nothing more than a case of making the best of our less-than-ideal circumstances. We are products of our environment, and context is essential to understanding our behaviours and the choices we make.
But I think there is something more going on as well. My previous assumptions that electronic interaction would always be inferior to face-to-face meeting are appearing now to be just that — assumptions. And as assumptions, they are subject to change when confronted with new experiences and information. It seems that many of us are finding that being connected with others on a screen contains more possibility than we imagined.
My hypothesis about these experiences is that we are at the beginning of a learning curve. We are teaching ourselves how to be together in this way and, like any new skill or practice, it is a painful process. (I am reminded of this every time I’m in my new stay-at-home exercise regime.) It requires a degree of intensity to which we may be unaccustomed, but we are learning in slow and steady ways that trust, relationship, connectedness, productivity, and effectiveness are all possible online.
While I don’t have a precise process to follow, here are some steps that seem to be important across different settings:
Focus on relationship. Check in with each other before getting down to work. How is everyone doing? What’s been happening where they are? What is something that made people smile today?
Go slowly at first, so you can go faster later. Be clear about your purpose for getting together. Make sure everyone understands the technology you are using.
Build connections and make exchanges between people as smooth as possible. Can everyone see and hear? Be intentional about hearing everyone’s voice.
Clarify roles and responsibilities and how you want to work together.
I realise none of this is new. We know how to do these things already. However, they demand a renewed focus and commitment in this changed environment, otherwise assumptions about the inadequacy of this way of working and being will set themselves up as obstacles to human connection.
There are shadows too, to be sure. We were talking this week about implications for power, control, autonomy, inclusion, and equity on the Zoom platform. Zoom meetings have a ‘host’ who controls the room. Unhealthy power dynamics need to be made visible so people can work through them. A wobbly internet connection or insufficient bandwidth can lead to someone being left behind or left out. These are not perfect vehicles, but we are starting to discover how to make them good enough, and occasionally, even better than that.
We will find our way once again to sharing essential moments of physical contact with others — with strangers as well as with family and friends — and it will be eye-wateringly beautiful when it happens. At the same time, as a result of this crisis, we will have expanded our capabilities for connectedness with each other.