First things first:  A quick note of thanks to the many kind readers  who took the time from their busy schedules to respond last week to the  debut of Einstein's Corner.  Apparently, my concerns
about the adverse effects  of digital technologies on our ability to conduct business or improve the  quality of life are shared by more than a few of you. 
 Many of your replies dealt with the
fragmentation of time, and the  corresponding absence of quiet, contemplative time--both at work and  away from work.  Time starvation is a common and escalating symptom of life  and work in the early
21st century.  In fact, recent years have witnessed  the emergence of an inverse relationship between technology and time. 
   Simply stated, the more technology we incorporate into our lives
nowadays, the  less time we seem to have for all the things we are now compelled to do by  virtue of our enhanced ability to do them. 
 The irony, of course, is that almost all digital productivity
technologies are  sold on the promise to generate more time for the pursuit of other things.   Nine times out of ten, however, those other things turn out to be other  digital technologies--all of
which are sold on the same promise to  increase productivity and generate more time.  It's a digital marketing version  of the scam perpetrated by the fictional protagonists in "The Producers,"
wherein two con men hatch a scheme to sell 2000 percent of a horrible Broadway  musical.  We've done the same thing with our time:  We've invested in  so much time-saving technology that we now have
no time whatsoever for  anything except our time-saving technology.  The resulting circular logic is a  signature characteristic of addiction: unmanageable complexity. 
    
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 Our lives--both in and out
of work--have become unmanageably complex.   We are simply required to manage too many relationships on a daily basis,  many of which we never even imagined just a generation ago.  This is due in
large part to the rise of digital communication and customer relationship  technologies in the 1990s, and the sudden ability for corporations to  engender and manage relationships in unprecedented
numbers and  complexity. 
 The sheer volume of detail in our day-to-day routines shot through the  roof as the number of digitally induced relationships multiplied like  gerbils.  Every new digital
technology came with a closet full of new  relationships to manage. 
 I've heard it said that God is in the details.  Of course, I've also  heard it said that the Devil is in the details.  I don't
claim to know who is or  isn't in the details anymore, but I do know that we are all drowning in  them.  Life and work in the Age of Technoculture has devolved into one  long, serialized act of force
majeure:  My car broke down; our server is  down; my laptop died; my cell phone battery needs recharging; the cable  repairman never showed up; the train was late; my car is in the shop; my ISP was
down; ad nauseam.  Eventually, obsessive-compulsive behavior and addiction  always become the best excuse for their own failure. 
 Central to the promotion of unmanageable complexity is our fealty
to  the spreadsheet culture.  And central to the spreadsheet culture--the same  culture that now drives every institution on the planet--is a built-in  and fundamental aversion to risk.  So while the
sheer number and complexity  of relationships at work and at home increases, our tolerance levels for  any aberrant behavior or failure within each relationship declines  commensurately.  The
opportunity for error increases exponentially,  while our tolerance for the associated risks all but disappears. 
 Zero tolerance is the result.  Zero tolerance is risk management in the  Age of
Technoculture, the great Age of Addiction, and time starvation.  Zero  tolerance is what we impose when we can no longer effectively manage  all of our relationships--and the many risks they bring
with them. 
 Zero tolerance is deployed by corporations and consumers alike.   Corporations deploy zero tolerance policies internally as first lines  of defense, typically to force employee
compliance with prevailing legal  statute and reduce corporate exposure to potential litigation in an  already hyper-litigious society.  As consumers, we invoke zero tolerance as a  means to get what
we want, or--just as frequently--to jettison what we  don't want. 
 Essentially, we have zero tolerance because we have zero time to  address all of the things that might go wrong in our
relationships.  So we solve  them instead the way Alexander the Great solved the Gordian knot:  We axe  them, quick and simple.  We no longer take the time to ponder and appreciate  the myriad
challenges and opportunities they represent.  When something  breaks, we just get rid of it.  Everything nowadays is utterly disposable,  including our relationships with our customers and clients.
 Brand/client loyalty and price-point integrity have taken real hits in  recent years.  Nowadays, a customer or client relationship of ten years  can disappear in three minutes in the wake of a
less-than-satisfactory  customer support encounter.  Nowadays, we are more inclined to eliminate or  replace things (relationships included) than fix them.  It's what happens when  too many
relationships--each laden with excruciating detail--collide with  too little time. 
 Well, even if we have less time, at least we have increased  productivity.  Or do we?  And at what cost?  For
instance, one might expect the cost  of media to decrease as the sheer tonnage of commercial media explodes due  to vastly increased access to vastly increased bandwidth.  But while this  might be
true on a pure CPM basis--one that accommodates only the cost of the  media itself--the cost of engaging the media as a meaningful part of a  meaningful marketing campaign has skyrocketed.  Of course,
this has  nothing to do with the cost of media, and everything to do with the cost of the  expertise required to navigate the vastly accelerated complexities of  marketing across myriad media channels
in the Age of Technoculture. 
 Unmanageable complexity--when too many relationships collide with too  little time--is one of the reasons that so many big client/agency  relationships are now
negotiated by procurement instead of marketing:   It's the only way for big clients with big marketing campaigns to commodify  and force down the cost of agency creative and media expertise to levels
more commensurate with the cost of the media itself.  It's the only way for  big clients with big marketing campaigns to exploit and maintain the  efficiencies of scale promised by the digital
technologies and their  proxies, the agencies. 
 Whereas creative culture and personality once dominated the  client/agency relationship, maintained price integrity, and distinguished one agency
from another, scalable fulfillment and price point--both digitally driven-- have now emerged as the primary relationship criteria.  The result?   Marketing and media agencies work much harder for less
money, engender  much less client loyalty en route, and find it all but impossible to  distinguish themselves from the other 9,999 agencies making the exact same claims  in the exact same space.
Where is the increased productivity?  Where is the  ROI?  Likely buried in unmanageable complexity.
 Next week we'll discuss another signature characteristic of our  addiction to technology and the
media:  paralyzing inertia.  Over the next few weeks  I will establish a listserv or equivalent to centralize and promote  discussion on the topics in Einstein's Corner.  Meanwhile, please keep your
email  replies, comments, experiences, and suggestions coming.  Hit me with  your toughest questions; I need all the help I can get!  Many thanks in the  interim, and all the best...   
Jeff Einstein is a strategic marketing consultant and an early pioneer of the digital marketing industry. He was a co-founder of EASI, one of the nation's
first interactive advertising agencies. His column, "Einstein's Corner," appears each Wednesday in MediaDailyNews.