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Showing posts with label IBM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IBM. Show all posts

Saturday, December 27, 2025

In-person or Online: Which Is Better?

Yesterday, a childhood neighbor now living in the UK used a messaging app to share a 21-second clip of a game of musical chairs we played with her sister when we were four and five years old. I didn’t win and I looked skyward before plopping down histrionically. I hadn’t thought of that experience in at least 50 years, and I’m 60.

 

 “I love how, apparently...your own beloved daughter is talking in the background—and is older than we were then,” I replied.

 

 “She had gone to get in her pj’s and was scared to miss out on anything!!!! How lovely is this...she watched...and said, “Oh, I wish I was there with you and I also wish I lived when there was no technology.” Ironic because if there were no “technology,” chances are, Helene wouldn’t have shared that home-movie clip with me. I got Helene’s daughter’s point, though: Would the three of us even have played musical chairs back then if there had been colorful screens to stare at? 

 

This morning, at our synagogue’s Shabbat services, Christine Scheinberg gave a beautiful d’var Torah on Parshat Vayigash. “Vayigash” means, “And he approached,” or “And he drew near.” She included references to two Jewish philosophers, Emannuel Levinas and Martin Buber, both of whom were fans of face-to-face interaction. What would the two think about social media?

 

I hope they’d get not only its hazards, but also its affordances, a term my fellow IBM alum, Chuck Hamilton taught me to use. For instance, not every IBMer gets to go on a short- or long-term international assignment, but through virtual-world technology, all can interact immersively with one another no matter the location, and build cultural intelligence in a lower-stakes way. They can make cultural gaffes without causing international incidents and can be corrected by the colleague in the other country without losing face the way they might if the experience had happened in person. 

 

I’m not suggesting virtual-world technology could lead to world peace...or am I?... but before anyone pooh-poohs such interactions, they might ask which is better: zero, immersive access to colleagues in other cultures or relatively inexpensive, immersive access for all?

 

Wow, I didn’t expect to wax on about the virtues of virtual worlds on a Saturday night in 2025. All of that virtual-world technology was at its hottest from the early-mid 2000s. Still, just because something goes out of fashion doesn’t mean its utility is gone. 

 

I’m thinking of fashion and in-person vs. virtual experiences, this evening, also after reading two NYT articles:


The fashion critic who wrote the guest essay yearned for a time when people experimented and created their own styles essentially by first flirting with fashion, not by throwing mindless electronic cash at it. Filling an online cart with fantasy-fashions, she wrote, was a poor substitute for having in-person conversations with retail experts followed by trying on the clothing, then choosing it as consciously as a costume exhibit museum curator—I’m interpreting here.

 

What about during the height of Covid-inspired lockdowns globally? I thought, I might not live long enough to wear new clothes, but also, I have nothing precious to lose by giving myself some easy pleasure before I go. I visited the website of a favorite British brand and ordered four special-kind-of-cotton, gorgeously printed, button-down blouses. While I was at it, I went to the website of an American brand I had admired since childhood, but had never worn due to their super-bold colors, and I bought a pile of skorts, shirts, and pants.

 

Everything fit well and I’m still enjoying all of the items despite not having had the treat of advice from an in-person expert.

 

In the second article, the Business reporter wrote about the “last gasps” of Sears, which took me back to the early years of my career. Sears still operates five stores, but down from 3,400. I worked as a tech writer for Sears Technology Services, the technology arm of Sears, Roebuck and Co. before transferring to IBM when Pat & I moved to Montclair, New Jersey for her Montclair State University CFO job. 

 

Lars Johnson, Werner Weiss, and I designed a home page prototype for Sears in 1995 and thought we were really clever by using, <H2>Come see the cyber side of Sears</H2>, but Sears did not embrace online ordering until after Amazon emerged, and it was too late by then, as the article discussed. For younger readers, I should offer the context that at the time, Sears had a big ad campaign running: “Come see the softer side of Sears” to attract customers to items other than refrigerators.

 

Nerd alert: <H2> was the more conventional way of signifying a level-2 heading in HTML back then, rather than <h2>.

 

Then there’s theatre, which I’ve jumped into over the past five years. What’s better than live theatre in a theatre? Nothing, and yet...

 

First, I wrote all alone, kind of liberated by the thought that no one might ever see the play if Covid never abated. I was free to write anything. Who cared?

 

When vaccines became available, a fellow congregant and I met at the Shabbat dinner of a third congregant and she said, “I know another lesbian playwright. She used to be my neighbor. Would you like to meet her?”

 

“Yes!” The playwright, The Rev. Elaine Blanchard, introduced me to Voices of the South, the theatre company that runs the online Writers’ Workshop I’ve been attending every Monday night for the past three years. If we weren’t online, I’d never have gotten such close mentoring by more advanced playwrights, including Keegon Schuett, who joins from Chicago each Monday. Keegon won the 2024 Yale Drama Prize.

 

Who’s to say what’s more profound: face-to-face experiences or online experiences with people from anywhere in the world? Which is better? I think the answer is Yes.

Saturday, May 18, 2024

On the occasion of ibm.com's 30-year reunion

Carol Moore, ibm.com VP, launched my IBM career in 1996, securing my interview with ibm.com/software’s director. A couple months in, Carol asked, "How's the job going?"

"I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing."

Carol said something like, "Sarah, don't you know? You're supposed to make it up yourself. That's how it works."

IBM hired me as a Web Zealot in what was then the Internet Division of IBM -- a Web Zealot because as a Jew, I refused the original title, "Web Evangelist."

My plan a few weeks ago, in 2024 -- four years after being laid off and bridging to retirement from a mostly wonderful run at IBM -- was to cruise to Greece, Turkey, and then fly and catch a ride with ibm.com Webmaster Ed Costello to the Poconos, for the ibm.com 30th anniversary reunion. "Man plans and God laughs." -- Yiddish proverb

The moment I boarded the ship, I felt sick enough to visit the ship's doctor, who after negatively testing for Covid, reasoned that the white junk he saw on my tonsils might mean strep. One and a half rounds of antibiotics later, it hadn't abated and the doctor concluded: tonsilitis. There went my plan to reunite with sweet friends from IBM’s best old days.

You can see Rhodes’ dry mote. You can see Akrotiri’s ancient Minoan village ruins. You can see Kuşadası, Turkey's modern, solid marble version of the High Line, but even on the Way Back Machine, you can't see the home page of ibm.com/globalnetwork, my first web project from even before joining IBM, when I was with a joint venture at the time of IBM and Sears. 

The art of ibm.com from 1994-2001, my era, resembled a play in a Greek (or any) theater more than a film, which you could watch whenever you liked. A play was relatively evanescent.

ibm.com's early incarnations were no less art for being ephemeral, like the live performances enjoyed by Greece’s throngs. Tourists don't continue marching in exhausted lines to see what we built. And yet...

Herculean/Constantinian/Ottoman power struggles and dramas happened. Fortunately, I didn't lose my job when I agreed with a director of another organization who wanted to poach part of the Software web team I managed to his area. My manager showed up very late to the meeting on the proposed re-org. 

Before he arrived, I had felt pressured into stating my position. I agreed with the director, it made sense for the people to move to his team. I earned my only-ever lowest rating: PBC 3. My tardy manager left not long afterward to make a third, dramatic career change. He had been a monk prior to joining a company that IBM bought. I understood why he was no longer a monk.

That was the tragic part of my ibm.com career. Almost every other bit of that era was a pleasure...

...especially meeting with Ed Costello to show him my plan for the home page of ibm.com/globalnetwork. This meeting took place years before Project Bullseye, which was IBM's move to transform ibm.com's layers' look and feel to appear like they came from a single brand -- like whitewashed and brilliant Santorini. When Ed and I met, "The New York Times" hadn't yet reviewed ibm.com and found the user experience fractured. Lou Gerstner, IBM's CEO then, hadn't yet ordered cohesion within 90 days. 

Reflecting on my earnest enthusiasm in my meeting with Ed, I remember how excited I felt at six and seven, participating in my public library's summer reading club. Every book I read and summarized for the Children's librarian, Mrs. Keating, earned me a children's palm-sized, construction-paper owl on the public bulletin board. My favorite part: delivering the oral book reports, where Mrs. Keating listened to me tell her about each plot. It felt sacred.

The day I visited Ed and told him my vision felt the same way. He might not even remember the meeting, but I showed up with primitive hand drawings and explained each element to him. And like Mrs. Keating, he seemed to listen with loving attention. 

Right now, I wish I were riding to the Poconos in Ed's SUV with Ed, our colleague Klaus Rusch, and Ed & Lisa's two canine family members. I'm sad not to be on that ride, but feel grateful for the one I took with Carol, Ed, and the whole ibm.com gang practically 30 years ago. And grateful to Carol, Adam Chng, and Ed for setting up the reunion, and for enabling an online version.

Heraclitus wrote, "You cannot step in the same river twice," and I'm glad all of us are still here to step in the river 30 years later.