Maybe you don’t commit my columns to memory, which is definitely deflating. But I’ve previously told you about one of my college professors who enjoyed typing laborious notes of praise in triplicate, using carbon paper.

One went to you, one to your boss, and one to your boss’s boss. When you got praised, everyone knew it — and it felt good. 

Fast forward to recently, when a message from a coworker popped up in Microsoft Teams, that culture and productivity app that knits us together in our long-term care workplaces. The message was called a “Praise,” and my heart was warmed because my contribution was noticed, my life worthwhile.

Basking in gratefulness, I pondered the wonders of this modern age and how technology could facilitate my colleague’s desire to delight me with spontaneous commendation. 

But then my mood turned darker. Because under his “Praise” message, Teams made recommendations of other co-workers, with a “Start Praise” button next to each. I began to suspect his act of appreciation wasn’t so self-motivated. 

Once I clicked on a name, Teams also offered the content. I could choose a word/picture combo like “Awesome,” “Thank you,” or dozens more. So many great automated options — and choosing one wouldn’t take any time at all. An optional text box was offered, but who needs to expend extra thought when the right word is pre-suggested?   

Then Teams managed to wring the last of the spontaneity out of workplace praise. “Build a habit of recognizing your colleagues,” the bold text commanded. “Set up praise reminders.”

I realize some companies have implemented well-intended programs that encourage employees to show appreciation to deserving coworkers who go above and beyond. Many probably leverage similar technology. But how meaningful is praise if it’s so obviously driven by corporate initiatives, algorithms or automation, with little validating commitment of time or effort? 

Sure, I could now use Teams’ technology to send my colleague a reciprocal “Praise,” giving as little thought to the task as he did. But instead, I think I’ll walk over on actual legs and use real human words to thank him profusely and personally. 

Next time you see that CNA do that amazingly selfless thing for that adorable resident, I hope you’ll also choose to decline the technology —  and just praise directly from the heart.