Imagining a World without Email

This summer we acquired a summer student to help us devise modern solutions for our service inbox. Each day, the service inbox for our department receives dozens of emails on a variety of issues. Some requests are easily resolved, while others take days to answer. Some requests are urgent and time-consuming. These ones go straight to the top of the priority line, delaying others already in the queue. All this to say, it’s a big job to stay on top of all these emails, while also keeping up with other tasks.

The goal of the student is to identify our pain points and come up with options to address the challenges. To date, we’ve been through several rounds of interviews. It’s been illuminating to see all the problems distilled into colorful rows of electronic sticky notes on our virtual blackboard. The student uses big red dots to identify the most problematic ones. There are a lot of dots.

However, one thing of interest to me is that our student doesn’t even use email! Of course she uses it occasionally, but it’s not her primary mode of communication. The concept of existing without email seems foreign, yet attainable, when I start to think about better ways to manage our requests. One of my main goals is to eliminate email requests completely by using a ticketing system instead. This would require users to submit requests through a different kind of system that would allow us to track requests more effectively.

Another pain point is our current “tracking” system. We manually track everything by counting emails. It’s hideous, time-consuming, and not that accurate. We do this because the inbox doesn’t offer us a meaningful way to report on the emails.

One question our student posed during interviews required us to consider which emails had to remain as emails. After some thought, we came up with a few examples. This was mostly for communications we have with external parties, such as vendors, or professional organizations.

In discussing this further with a work colleague, also of the same generation as me, we started thinking about why we rely on email so much in our personal lives. I’m not proposing a ticketing system to manage my personal life, but maybe better alternatives are available.

Digital Dragnet Dangers

Overturning Roe v. Wade has a greater impact than I even first realized. Since the decision became official about a week ago, I’ve been seeing a lot of articles discussing the digital side of things. For example, the kinds of apps women use to track their reproductive health issues and location data, are coming under question. Now that abortion is illegal in many areas, there is a concern that data collected on women may be incriminating. This will likely include data that women input in various apps to track their health.

The first time I blogged about a period tracking app, it was in the context of self care. Lots of people love being able to track what’s going on in their bodies. Over the years I’ve tracked lots of things about my body, health, and habits manually. It’s tedious! I can understand the appeal of having apps available to do some of the “heavy lifting.” Being able to analyze patterns and notice trends is a real benefit to tracking. However, I never use self-care apps. I’ve always been nervous about the privacy and protection of the data. Another concern is who might unknowingly access or share the data.

Recently, I’ve read many articles about whether or not women should delete their period tracking apps. The concern is that in places where abortions are illegal, data from these apps could be used. It could be used as evidence about the status of, and activities related to, a women’s reproductive health. For example, is a missed period evidence of a pregnancy, another health issue, or human error? Combining this data with location tracking yields more details about a woman’s activities (e.g., missed period combined with trips to a Planned Parenthood). Even anonymizing the data isn’t enough. There are still ways to discover who it’s about.

Google has decided that they will delete location tracking history for visits to abortion clinics, along with a few other health-related locations. The question I have about this, is why collect it in the first place? Or why not create apps that protect the privacy and data of its users more effectively?

Disposable Culture

Through a coordinated effort, several families on my street all participated in a giant tag sale. As we walked from sale to sale, I couldn’t stop thinking how hard it is to get rid of stuff. At one table, I purchased a giant tub of arts & crafts supplies for $3. It contained three pairs of scissors that cut in different patterns, bags of sequins, stickers, and packages filled with random shapes in a variety of colors. I’m sure all of this cost more than $3. But for now, the cost to get rid of it for something more than “free” was a few bucks.

Though I didn’t need these new art supplies, I can definitely use them. In fact, I’m looking forward to busting out the glue and poster board to start crafting. However, I did have a moment where I considered how I would offload these supplies, if, like many other “inspired” projects, I never actually used them.

In today’s disposable culture, it’s easy to acquire too much, all in pursuit of things we “need.” Much of the time, the stuff is poorly made and breaks easily. When things break I’m often in a dilemma. It’s almost always less expensive to buy something new than to repair the broken thing. Yet, it feels wasteful for me to throw things out in the garbage rather than try to fix them.

For example, I purchased a vegan leather purse a few years ago. I took it out of the closet for the first time a couple months ago and it looked horrible. The “leather” started to deteriorate and flake off.

I’ve had several people tell me to just throw it out. It does look awful, but other than the appearance, it’s a perfectly functional bag. The size is great, it’s got a nice flat bottom, sturdy zippers, and a nice interior. I did actually research how to fix vegan leather before deciding it was a lost cause. Too much effort. So, the bag will end up in the trash bin, unfortunately.

Part of what feels strange to me is we keep accumulating stuff, which nobody ends up wanting, including ourselves. Then it becomes a mission to get rid of it, if you don’t want to just throw it all in the garbage. Yet, with digital formats, we’re also encouraged to accumulate stuff, but then we end up keeping all of it.

Unexpected Triggers

The Modern Love podcast opened up the new season with an essay called “One Man’s Trash.” The author of the essay describes an event that acted as an unexpected trigger of his dead partner’s memory. The result was a long, cathartic sob, followed by release.

Rather than unexpected triggers, June typically offers me nothing other than expected triggers. June is a memory landmine month. This year marks 19 years since my father and grandfather died. My father’s birthday is in early June. Then father’s day. Then my grandfather’s deathday. The following day is my father’s. Some years, Father’s Day is on the same day as one of the deathdays. I’m not sure if having everything compounded on the same day makes it harder or easier.

Hearing this podcast in the early days of June made me think of some triggers. While I don’t often experience those raw, heart wrenching, painful yearnings anymore, something new is developing. Sometimes the unexpected triggers result in something pleasurable, almost as though my father is sending me a small hug, a pat on the back, a wink, or even one of his infectious guffaws. This last one is mostly reserved when I hear something that would have resonated with his specific “nerd humor.”

Recently I experienced two of these familiar, loving triggers. On a whim I decided to try out a doughnut shop I recently discovered. I’m not much of a doughnut person. When I do get a doughnut, I usually go for a plain chocolate one. Or maybe a chocolate one with something sprinkled on it. However, this time, I instantly ordered the equivalent of a Boston Cream doughnut. I didn’t even see the other offerings, but knew I had to get this one. Of course in Canada the doughnut has another name without “Boston” in it, but it was basically the same thing. More importantly, my father’s favorite flavor, something I learned after he died.

Earlier in the month, while visiting a friend, I noticed a dime on the ground. Without hesitating I bent over to pick it up. At the same instant I remember thinking, “still healthy enough to pick up loose change.” Then I chuckled. My father always picked up loose change, something I’m sure he would still be doing even though nobody has used cash in the last two years. It made that dime worth more than ten cents.

The Covid Purge

As Covid restrictions are relaxing, I’ve been going out more. It’s forced me to consider the things I’m wearing. Admittedly, for the last two years, I’ve basically been wearing yoga pants, t-shirts, and hoodies. On the plus side, I haven’t bought any new clothes, except for socks, underwear, and yoga pants. On the flip side, I also haven’t worn about 90% of my wardrobe. All to say, it’s time for a purge.

Normally I like to purge clothes every two years, on a rotating basis. This allows favorites, or special-occasion garments, a chance to be worn. It also accounts for years when I weigh a bit more or a bit less. However, the pandemic disrupted my entire rhythm. I have clothes I haven’t worn in three years and some I’ve completely outworn.

Recently I went to a friend’s house for dinner (outside and distanced). I decided to bring along some clothes I was donating to see if a friend might like them instead. Among the discards I found a beautiful summer dress I had never worn once. I purchased it at the end of summer in 2018. In 2019, the summer was rainy and I worked a lot so never got a chance to wear it. Then two years of pandemic summers (aka isolating and distancing in yoga pants and t-shirts). Now, four years later, I thought I would just pass it along to a good home. Then again, I thought maybe this was my style now. I put on the four-year old, but new dress and had a smashing time.

This raised some questions for me about creating new purging criteria. Likely most of us have changed in some way or another during the pandemic. My style, assuming I still have one beyond yoga pants and t-shirts, is different. Office attire is different. I don’t quite know how to apply this to what I currently own, but I do know I’m making different decisions.

First off, I found a place that does textile recycling for all well-loved clothing. Secondly, I’m once again subscribing to less is more. Spending two years in the same few outfits has proven this to me. Plus it had the benefit I’m sure Steve Jobs enjoyed. Wearing the same few outfits saved brain power on decision making. I’m adapting to the new post-covid normal and part of that requires a wardrobe adaptation, too.

The Practice of Recording Meetings: Is it necessary?

I had never really thought too much about recording meetings before the pandemic started. This was likely because meetings happened in person. Perhaps it was too awkward to record live and in person. Or maybe the equipment wasn’t available. Now, a simple button can record practically any virtual meeting. I blogged about this before in “Privacy in the Time of Pandemic: Video Calling” and “The Practice of Recording Meetings: Good Custom or Overload?“.

Lately it seems at least one person in every meeting wants it recorded. Personally, I find it’s usually more than enough to sit through a meeting once. The thought of having to listen and watch a recorded meeting feels a bit much. And yet, today somebody emailed me that she couldn’t attend this afternoon’s meeting. Then she requested somebody to record it for her to watch later. This is for an hour long meeting!

Whatever happened to reading minutes? Or asking a trusted colleague for highlights? Why is it that now we can easily make a recording we want them all recorded? Technology often impacts our interactions with real life events. However, watching a recorded meeting seems a bit unnecessary.

The other aspects of recorded meetings include privacy and management aspects. Recently a few questions came up at work about employees not in a meeting being able to access recordings of meetings. Was this a violation of employee privacy? From my perspective, if that employee was an invitee, or would normally have access to the notes, then it’s not. However, what if the meeting includes non-employees? All of a sudden, privacy takes on a different meaning.

This leads to the next point about management. Who is responsible for saving and maintaining this recording? Audio-video formats can be more complicated to manage over time than a document, which is how meeting minutes are normally captured. And where should these recordings be saved? Ideally, somebody would save the recordings in the same place as the minutes.

Some meetings we host are training or instructional in nature. For these meetings, it makes sense to record the demonstration for future reference. Or for people that missed the training session because it saves us time from having to do the demonstration again. In these cases, it makes sense to save the recording as training material. However, most meetings are not that straightforward.

Perhaps the best solution is to stop having meetings.