<H1>HI TECH, HI TOUCH</H1>

By Hank Trisler

John Naisbitt, the author of the venerated Megatrends 2000, popularized this phrase in his first book, Megatrends. He postulates that reliance on technology isolates us and deprives us of the human contact we so desperately need. I can identify with that.

When I ran a real estate company, I was shaved, showered and in the office in suit and tie by 8:30 in the morning. Every day I met new friends and lunched at a different restaurant. I heard and told jokes and generally had a wonderful time.

Then I got into the training bidness and moved my office to my home. I now have a computer, fax machine, cell phone, voicemail, a website and e-mail. There is even a program which will link to GoldMine and extract pertinent material from fields and print out a 40-page + - proposal which one can then e-mail, post or fax to a customer completely obviating the need to talk to the pesky buggers at all.

It's been six days since I started my car. My only contact with people is when I go out for a training session, tennis, golf or a lunch with my old buddies. Other than that, I communicate with electronic devices and comparatively little of that. This existence can be narrowing for a person. One's interpersonal skills can rapidly atrophy, not to mention one's personal hygiene.

I'm not the only one it's happening to, either. Salespeople in general are making fewer personal calls and relying more on electronics to do their talking for them. We are in danger of losing the human touch.

My Barbara got a star in her windshield from a rock tossed out by a truck. She wanted me to make it all better, which I did by giving her the number of our insurance agent in San Francisco. We've been with this agent for over twenty years. He's an old family friend. He'd retired, so Barbara found herself talking to a woman she had never met. The woman said that Barbara would have to make a claim directly with CNA, the carrier. Barbara called CNA three separate times, each time going through voicemail hell prior to being disconnected.

Barbara reappeared in the office. This was not going the way I had hoped it would. "Can you tell me," she said, knowing damn well I couldn't, "why we should continue to pay premiums to an agent we no longer even know, whose office is fifty miles away from us, when all they do is refer me back to the carrier, who will not take any of my calls?"

That's how I came to be assigned the task of finding a new insurance agent. Fortunately, Jim's a really nice guy, an insurance agent and he belongs to my tennis club. I see him two or three times a week and we always have pleasant chats. I decided to ask him if he would be interested in being my new agent.

"I'd be happy to," Jim said. "Why don't you fax me the front page of your existing policy, so I'll know what we're talking about."

That seemed reasonable, so I faxed him the first six pages, as I wanted our whole shebang insured. I stressed that our decision would be based a lot more on personal service than on price. I also mentioned that I had some concern about his being a direct writer (Allstate) than an independent agent, as I wanted someone to represent me, rather than an insurance company.

A couple of days later, I saw Jim at the club, but he said nothing about insurance, so I let it slide. That afternoon I got a fax from him, asking me to fax him social security numbers, driver's license numbers and dates of birth for both Barbara and me. His fax further assured me that he had been an Allstate agent for twenty-eight years and he felt he worked for the policyholder, rather than the company. I faxed back the numbers with decreasing enthusiasm.

I saw Jim twice more and we chatted, but not about insurance. I finally got a five-page fax outlining his suggestions for our coverage and quoting prices in detail. He again assured me that he prided himself on his high level of personal service.

As much as I like Jim, I'm not going to buy any insurance from him. I wanted someone to come out and schmooze with me the way insurance guys used to do. Someone to tell me I had the best possible coverage at a reasonable price. Someone to sell me, but Jim sent me faxes full of numbers I didn't clearly understand or care much about. That's just not going to get it.

A Carnegie Mellon study links the Internet to increasing loneliness. They say the average person has but sixty-six people in his/her social circle. Sixty-six? I've seen families bigger than that.

George Quinn is one of the brightest and best people I know. He's a land developer and could easily hide behind his computer without much danger of human involvement. But every day he dresses in coat and tie and goes to his office to talk with people. He has lunch nearly every day in a restaurant with someone different. I call him "Sir Lunchalot."

I'm pleased when it comes my turn to have lunch with George. He always has something interesting to say and interesting questions to ask. He reads omnivorously and is prepared to discuss anything he's read. He's a thoroughly fascinating man and my life would be poorer were it not for him.

Did technology make George the way he is? Not bloody likely. He got where he is and the way he is by interacting with people every day. To improve your business and your life, reach out and touch someone.