Behind the screen, behind the times

This past week, I had the opportunity to attend a meeting with some of the top field leaders on the railroad.  In many ways, I felt incredibly privileged to be invited to mingle with this group of men (I was the one female in the small hotel ballroom in Charlotte) who have acquired more first-hand knowledge of our business than could ever be fully conveyed.  Nonetheless, I opened my ears, my eyes and my notebook as wide as possible so as to absorb and record as much of their experience as the short four hours would allow.

And yet, something peculiar struck me.  I had imagined that this cohort would be the sort that would revel in one another's company, the opportunity to exchange the unbelievable stories that only those immersed in the daily saga of trains could accept as truth.  And yet, the initial scene was one that gave me cause for hesitation.  Had I not check the screen on the door identifying this as our assigned room, I may have turned around believing that I had misunderstood the directions from the young employee working behind the desk in the hotel lobby.  What presented itself before my eyes were several men, generally beyond the mid-point of life, fixed in front of their fruit-branded tablets, connected to the internet and seemingly disconnected from the world around.

So as to interject a little morning cheer, I cracked the silence with a quick introduction and a handshake.  This prompted standard responses which remain predictable, even in a world behind the screen.  I attempted to learn a bit more about my table mates, but soon realized that I should follow suit and pull out my tablet, phone or whatever tool I could use to prolong the illusion of early morning solitude.

As the room's three round tables welcomed other meeting attendees, some abandoned their invisibility cloaks to engage with the others who had most recently arrived to partake in the morning coffee and pastries before discussion of business became the room's primary function.

Once the presentations and discussion of rail activities got underway, the men engaged in the type of banter I would have expected from the start, the kind of interaction the must be more reminiscent of the days when being out of the office on business meant full engagement with the others who had traveled significant distances not only to exchange pertinent railroad information but also to build the kind of relationships that make cross-functional collaboration possible.  While I learned a great deal from these masters of the railroad, I also discovered something unexpected.  I had hoped to be a fly on the wall of a period from the past, a time when machines were accessory and people were of prime importance.   Fortunately or unfortunately, even the railroad has progressed.  What is behind the screen threatens to displace the significance of the here and now.  And yet, perhaps our tablets and phones have been what we've been waiting for.  A chance to escape from the demands of small talk and relationship building and to revel in the comfort of selective and protected interaction.