How long until a lack of response to a text bothers you? 15 minutes? Two hours? A day?
Maybe it depends on why you messaged. If it’s asking a sibling where your favourite shirt went, or checking a friend is attending that party tomorrow, we can probably wait a while, right?
Which, in online time, is probably much faster than we would like to admit. Something that often has me losing on both sides of the situation; both resenting the unspoken obligation to immediately reply or feeling irritated when someone doesn’t do exactly that
Considering how we first learned to communicate as children, the expectation makes sense. In person, a great conversation rallies tennis-match-style between whoever is involved. So, when someone takes a minute, let alone a few seconds, to reply, it indicates distraction, disinterest or just downright rudeness.
Change the form of communication and it seems obvious the rules and expectations should change too. But do they really?
Or, do we simply carry the methods and assumptions of conventional communication into the very different digital abyss?
Make no mistake, digital communication is pretty damn great, primarily because we can ‘speak’ to someone when it suits us, without having to align availability.
But therein lies the catch; you’re not talking ‘with’ them in the traditional sense. You’re talking ‘at’ them, without knowing if they have the capacity to listen and engage.
A catch that brings us to two helpful ideas when talking about talking; cost and consent.
When we agree to get coffee and catch up with a friend, the ‘cost’ of this interaction is high. You both must be in the same place, at the same time, doing little else but listening to one another. Ergo, our expectations for prompt, thoughtful replies are high too. We know the other consents because they’ve literally showed up.
Phone calls are similar. Consent comes from picking up, which implies one is free and willing to talk. The cost is slightly lower (you don’t have to be in the same place), but then, so are the expectations; we don’t have the same certainty around reply (they may not answer) and if they do, they could be multi-tasking.
Since ‘consent’ is typically used in discussions around sex and safety, it may seem like an unnecessarily weighty concept here. However, it’s apt and important in communication because it indicates if someone is available to talk and willing to be held accountable for giving their attention.
How, then, can we consent to each of the dozens of digital conversations that happen all day, every day on a multitude of different systems and platforms?
Well, I don’t think we can.
Instead, we simply assume if one can be reached by text or message, they are always available to be reached.
‘Read receipts’, don’t help, only compounding the pressure to give simultaneous messages the same attention as a real conversation. As if receiving information is the same as having the time or mental bandwidth to respond.
We’ve all felt the inaccuracy of this. We catch a text before heading into a meeting, a phone call, a gym class or just a stressful week, which keeps us from responding. Hell, sometimes we are halfway through an online conversation when real-life interrupts.
We’ve also been on the other side of the screen, interpreting the unresponsive minutes, hours or days as equivalent to being stonewalled in real life. The negative narratives come all too easily; they don’t prioritise the conversation or don’t want to talk, they can’t be bothered or are actively trying to piss us off. Totally unaware of the other person’s context and unable to shake the stubborn assumption that the rules of offline conversation are the same online.
Knowing this, it’s surprise we can feel compelled to bash out a manic “Omg so US hahahaha” to the Instagra meme our friend tagged us in, ignore a real-life chat to answer a group chat or curse accidentally opening a message because once it’s ‘seen’ the clock starts on how long we can wait to reply without being rude.
In a reasonable world (one where logic calls the shots) the convenience of digital communication should be the trade-off for it’s immediacy. Thinking we can have both is an illusion without winners, on either side.
So, I’ve started trying to let my phone buzz or ping without acting like every alert is as urgent as my phone makes it sound. To let messages sit (yes, even on seen) until I’m actually ready to respond, programme my phone to enter flight mode at 9 pm and tell my friends that, if it’s important, just call.
I’m trying to resist apologising when hours or days go by and be the kind of person who doesn’t need an apology from others because I haven’t filled the silence with an ungracious story.
It’s harder than it sounds, but it’s already been worth it.
So, that’s what I’ve been thinking. Anyone else relate? Or are you one of those people who can comfortably leave people on seen?
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Sarah
Great commentary, something we are all struggling to handle compounded by covid when we all wanted and needed online contact. I’m trying to put electronic rules in place not easy the iPad is my friend or enemy 😂😂