Disclaimers in emails

Some staff are being asked to use standardised disclaimers as 'signatures' (footers) to their emails. I've been asked, is that appropriate?

Unless the the language of the disclaimer goes beyond what might be reasonably expected, I don't see how the requirement offends against either the usually held workplace sensibilities or university culture.

I don't think this attention being paid to emails is either fussiness or simply the result of an increasingly litigious society.

At first emails only carried low-level, intra-organisational material. Then, quickly, email became the internal communication of choice. And now, after a brief hesitation, organisations routinely use emails to communicate on substantial matters with the "outside" world. I think it's this jump to the wider world that has management worried.

Most Universities don't have disclaimers in their paper communications, but emails seem to be different — they're so quickly done, so quickly sent. It's a worry.

Although I have my doubts about disclaimers, there's one in the sidebar of this weblog. And, I have a disclaimer of my own devising in my work emails:

"Your mileage may vary. I do my best, but advice
does not come with a guarantee."

There's no such thing as a fool-proof life. ▪

He respects Owl, because you can't help respecting anybody
who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right.
—Rabbit (A.A. Milne 1882-1956)

Disclaimers in general

A reader (well, former reader) and lawyer wrote to me about a disclaimer I'm using. The complaint seemed to be that if I'm not confident about my accuracy, then I shouldn't be broadcasting my views.

I don't care for disclaimers. They seem to me to belabour the obvious. But although I'm happy for any protection, my disclaimers are not principally about 'accuracy' ("negligent misstatement," in lawyerspeak) — they're more about applicability ("fitness for purpose," yet more lawyerspeak).

Short essays are blunt instruments, making only a point or two. There are, therefore, several (arguably acceptable) reasons for my disclaimers:

• It's important that readers not 'self-medicate' based on general information, when for particular situations they'll need specific, contextualised advice.
• Everything has a 'use by' date. I wouldn't want a superseded essay to mislead anyone after circumstances had changed.
• Linked information can change. Although some of my referenced links have disappeared, I'm unaware of information changes in any linked pages. (I try to check the links from time to time.)
  
• I don't have the time or resources to entertain a vexatious lawsuit.

I'm not alone. The Mayo Clinic, for example, is seemingly confident in its abilities. Nevertheless, their disclaimers are substantial. ▪

People are like teeth: It's when they break that we notice
the incredible pressure we put on them.
—Yllib Ybnad (b. 1948)

Not fire and rescue

We carry Blackberries, cell phones and mini-notebooks. We're captives to our email. I suspect that there are staff who would accept walkie-talkies if they were offered. Things always seem so... urgent.

It's flattering to be needed. But let's be honest: The University endeavour is not akin to fire and rescue.

So, here's the crunch: With all this urgency are you,

• more, or less, creative;
• better informed, or just distracted;
• spending more, or less, time thinking and reflecting;
• engaged in more, or less, meaningful consultation?

I'm not the first person to notice. The Q&A with Harvard Professors Teresa Amabile and Leslie Perlow, "Time Pressure and Creativity: Why Time is Not on Your Side" is quite interesting.

Why does this happen? Because it can.

Analogous to Parkinson's Law (that "work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion") is, if you will, Danby's Law:

If not otherwise constrained, the 'urgency' of work rises insofar as the technology and the processes of communication allow.

We have all had periods of unavailability for one or another reason, only to find that the world and faculty, department, project, case or plan continued without our urgent attention.

Deep breath, settle down, do better. ▪

The philosophy of the school room in one generation
will be the philosophy of government in the next.
—Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) 16th US President