Firing off an e-mail? Make sure of your aim

The Undo button, an integral part of most modern software programs, has made us more than a little sloppy. If you hit the wrong key there are no worries; a few taps will get back to the beginning. So anything done can be easily undone.

That is, aside from the Send button on your e-mail program.

I learned this lesson — again — last week. The good news is that I wasn't as careless as in the past.

This particular story begins a few years ago, when I was hired in a temp position that required typing historical entries into a database. The logic in doing so was, well, fuzzy. The president of the company visited occasionally to offer inspirational advice. Despite this, the project never made sense to me, and I wasn't good enough to fake it. They let me go, because they didn't like my performance. Fine. I didn't like them, either.

I had forgotten about this experience until last weekend, when I received a message from my former boss. "After reading the first five paragraphs of your 7-29 article I decided it was incomprehensible." No hello or how are you. No thank you for your service. No acknowledgment that we had ever met.

It didn't take long for me to compose a response: "Yes, and after five days of working on your online biography project I determined it was ridiculous."

It didn't take long for him to respond: "I have no idea what you are talking about. I had nothing to do with any biography project. Furthermore I read a bit farther in your article and still don't know what it was all about."

From the first message I already knew this guy was arrogant, with an exaggerated sense of importance. Now I could add forgetful to the mix. And with too much time on his hands. I composed a scathing response, describing the project, how foolish it was, and how he had no business criticizing my writing without offering anything constructive. He was no longer my boss. Not only that, he never really was, but that was another story. The note needed polishing so I decided to wait before sending.

Later that evening there was another message, only he had dropped the middle initial and the attitude. He explained that it was actually his father who has the same name who wrote the initial note, and who "at age 80 or so, is perhaps short on social grace." Not really an apology, but honest enough. And way short of the apology that I would owe him and his father if I had sent the original intemperate note.

I don't often send nasty notes, as someone really has to chap me in order to deserve e-mail fire. As it turns out, even those who apparently deserve such treatment may not be who or what they seem.

For this reason, it is probably best to insult people only in person: It takes more guts, there is deniability and you can be sure the person in front of you is the proper recipient.

If you have questions or suggestions for Charles Bermant, you can contact him by e-mail at cbermant@seattletimes.com. Type Inbox in the subject field. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/columnists.