How to Avoid Creating Email-Induced Anxiety
This edition of #WritingWednesdays includes reflections on an essay about email in the New York Times that Adam Grant wrote more than a month ago. I just saw it this morning (thank you, Courtney Sieloff ), and the writer's insight sparked memories of lessons learned from email exchanges of yore.
Grant addresses the anxiety associated with response times from both the recipient and sender's perspective. My key takeaway is to give folks grace.
As Grant writes, "How quickly people answer you is rarely a sign of how much they care about you. It’s usually a reflection of how much they have on their plate. Delayed replies to emails, texts and calls are often symptoms of being overextended and overwhelmed. If the message isn’t time-sensitive, we should count delays in weeks or months, not days or hours."
To paraphrase his advice: Let's breathe a bit more, shall we?
In addition to breathing, it also good for us to focus on what we can control: our actions/reactions and communication style. That means giving and receiving feedback on our correspondence practices and quirks.
Lesson #1: The Bad Kind of Any Given Sunday
Grant's essay cites a study that said messages sent outside normal business hours often elicited faster responses than those sent during the day. The recipients, likely those reporting to the people sending the message, instantly considered these notes more urgent and responded in kind. It is no surprise that this practice led to more anxiety and burnout.
The after-hours or weekend messages example resonated with me because I was one of those managers who routinely sent messages outside traditional hours. It is a story about my intention did not align with the effect it had on the team.
I used to come into the office on Sunday mornings. It was a way for me to prepare for the week and review materials without disruptions. When sending out missives and feedback, I would write something like, "Not Urgent-Wait Until Monday." I almost always put in a deadline, an essential practice in my mind.
The long and short is that these messages created the exact kind of anxiety the study cited in Grant's piece uncovered. Regardless of the intent, the team members felt the need to respond right away. I would often reply with, "Enjoy your Sunday. This can wait." Whatever. That's not a good practice. I just intruded upon their day off with a non-emergency message.
Luckily, I received feedback and adjusted accordingly. Did it mean that I never did a Sunday visit or sent messages outside business hours? No, I worked in fundraising, politics, and communications, all of which are a 24/7 cycle on the best of days. However, I adopted another strategy of blocking time during regular business hours when I would alert my team that I would be reviewing materials and thus be available to talk through any urgent issues outside a formal meeting structure. Occasionally, I would also let them know I'd be in the office on Sunday, but I would be specific about why, including a list of the things I would be doing, and ask them if I was missing anything. I would hold off sending messages until Monday, although some eager folks shared my Sunday ritual and asked for a message that would help them prepare for the week. Look, no system is perfect, but being up front and communicative creates a better culture and makes for a better Sunday for all involved parties.
Lesson #2: The False Premise of a Quick Call
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Grant's essay also advises us to do something that falls within our control space: Let people know how to communicate with us. I am not suggesting we issue an edict to colleagues on the key elements that must be in an email message to get our prompt attention, but there are opportunities for us to flag consistent triggers.
In my case, I recall a team member who routinely sent me this message: "Do you have time for a quick call?"
I replied the first fews times with a yes and would have a very, very long call.
Reflecting on my frustration, I came to the conclusion that I needed to address how this practice fueled my anxiety. Bad messaging goes up and down the reporting structure, right?
I was up front about how a "quick call" without any context caused some heartburn on my end. Was the Washington Post targeting us for an exposé? Is a major funder upset? Give me some parameters, please.
Upon having this discussion with the team member, I discovered it was not about any one incident or circumstance. Applying lessons from DiSC or CliftonStrengths, this person fell into the cautious category. The fear of making a mistake could be paralyzing. As a consequence, some work products were getting delayed as the staff who reported to this individual were waiting for the "quick calls" with me to resolve outstanding questions. It inadvertently created a sense of micromanagement. That's terrible, to say the least.
Obviously, this was a much bigger issue than email message responsiveness. It turned out to be an opportunity for me to reinforce my support for the person's judgment and ability to make decisions. I asked them to take one week to list all the things that would normally fall on the quick call list. Together, we looked at these issues and came up with categories and guidelines. In 90 percent of the cases, I advised the team member to move forward and not reach out to me. We also discussed this process with the direct reports, so they understood that, once decisions were made, I trusted them to execute and flag any questions or disruptions. And we did this all in interactive mode over Zoom, not via email.
I also worked with this manager to identify another person in the organization at a similar level with whom they could have a collegial relationship to help address the concerns about making mistakes. Sometimes folks need to talk through things with colleagues outside the immediate structure to get perspective and relieve anxiety. I think we can all relate to this practice, especially in the cases of remote work assignments that cause folks to feel isolated. Plus, it reduced the volume of email messages and led to a more productive (and empowered) unit.
As Grant rightly observes in the essay, "Digital overload cries out for us to redefine what it means to be responsive."
That is so true, and in my experience, I am at my most responsive when I take a beat and communicate directly--off email.