It’s a sweltering night in Chicago and I can’t sleep, so why not write something until I pass out or (more likely), take a nice cool shower to calm myself before going to bed. Lately, I have also longed for finding a nice, air-conditioned bar or tavern somewhere I can easily get to without being carjacked, assaulted on the CTA, or hit by a vehicle while on a bike or scooter. But that’s a screed for another day. A nice frozen margarita at a bar somewhere is also less enjoyable if you’re drinking alone. I’d rather enjoy my cold libations catching up with a good friend, but good friends are also hard to rope into such nightly adventures. And I blame Zoom in part for this.
I saw this tweet tonight from author and professional provocateur Malcolm Gladwell. What have I reduced my life to indeed? I’ve blogged about life over these past two years of the pandemic, first about the rise of video-based communications platforms like Zoom, and how musical artists had to adapt. I’ve also touched upon education, and the challenges students and teachers have had to teach and learn remotely. Gladwell’s thesis seems to rest upon the damage remote work had wrought upon urban centers and corporate life. Not surprisingly, the responses to his tweet have been swift and vicious. I can’t argue that not having hours-long commutes, paying for expensive parking and meals, and seeing your kids more aren’t great benefits of remote work. I’d succinctly paraphrase his thesis as “nothing great happens over Zoom calls”. He seems to suggest that deeply motivating projects happen when teams interact in-person, and to some extent, he’s right. I’ve lost track of all the Zoom/Google Meet calls I’ve attended or hosted. It is definitely convenient not to have to commute. But lately, as some orgs return to in-person meetings, it’s been genuinely refreshing not to see someone from only the neck-up, framed in a compressed box onscreen. It’s too easy to weigh-in from the chat box, but then to have that disappear when the “End Room” button is pressed.
This sort of dynamic also plays on out via social networks like Facebook. My newsfeed has shrunken dramatically lately. Not sure if many of my 500+ Facebook friends have checked out, deleted their account, or are too busy on Zoom calls to care about posting online. I too have reduced my activity. Unfortunately my paid gig requires me to post incessantly in various pages and groups on FB, which dims my enthusiasm to do more on my personal page. It also conflates work and social. I’d prefer to leave the office work at the office.
So, how do I find likeminded comrades to have a round or two on a random, steamy, night here in Chicago? Planning and organizing is overkill when all I really want is a real person sitting across from me at the bar. Maybe I’ll tweet at Gladwell to see if he’ll come join me sometime.