Mail, manners and Matt Smith

In 1997, I was working at Scottish Provident in Kendal, although every Monday and Tuesday I worked in Edinburgh. I liked pretty much all of my colleagues in both locations and I was really enjoying my first taste of Edinburgh, where I felt at home almost immediately.

One of my colleagues in Edinburgh was a lovely chap called Gordon Mackay. He dressed like an old rocker, in three piece suits with a sharp haircut and quiff. We got on well but one Friday, when I was in Kendal, we ended up in slightly fractious email conversation that rapidly descended into what was in danger of becoming a slanging match. Colleagues were becoming copied in and eventually my boss, Graham, was cc'd.

Seconds later, the 'phone rang. It was Graham. I thought that he'd be ringing to lend me some support. Instead he was irritated and clearly unimpressed, not only by what was going on but by me personally. He told me to ring Gordon, to apologise and sort matters out. Apologise?! I hadn't started this! "But, Graham, I..." "Ring him, apologise, sort it out. And then ring me."

Christ, it was awkward. Both Gordon and I were both clearly embarrassed and ashamed. Two minutes later we were all apologised out and back to our usual camaraderie. And matters were soon sorted out. I learnt a lesson that day; that email doesn't do tone, delivery or nuance very well. If anything, you need to be over-polite, over-friendly.

Seventeen years later and I feel the same, not only about email but also about Twitter. I find it quite alarming and, at times, upsetting when I see how some people address one another. Last night I felt the need to write about it but as the post concerned an online friend of mine, I got him to read it before I 'pimped' the post in my timeline, this morning.

As I'd hoped, people read it, some favourited it and it got a fair number of retweets. But then someone came into my timeline who took exception to it and soon I was getting some critical comments on the blog post, too. I took the time to reply to them but it was like banging my head against a brick wall. In the end one chap asked me to follow him and we chatted about it for a long time by DM. What a relief to find someone from the critical 'side' who was willing to discuss it.

So by the time Abi went to bed, I was ready for a break, and Dan and I watched an episode of Doctor Who. This bit of escapism, enjoyed whilst sat on the sofa with my boy snuggled up next to me, was just the tonic that I needed.