Do I Need To Text Back?
The unspoken rules of texting.
My pocket vibrates with another text.
In an attempt to preserve my concentration, I pretend not to notice.
Even the act of suppressing incoming stimuli takes cognitive resources. I don't want to divert more bandwidth to read the text message, let alone respond to it.
So I wait. And wait. And wait.
I delay until there’s a move convenient time to deal with it.
The time never seems to come.
Eventually, I forget the message that attempted to grab my attention hours earlier. I move on with my day with blissful ignorance — a pig satisfied as Socrates would put it.
Then I get another text.
I’m catapulted back to the 21st century — now a human being dissatisfied as Socrates might say — and faced with making decisions about when and how to respond.
This is the tricky trouble with texting: It’s not quite synchronous, not quite asynchronous.
It’s a mongrel of digital communication that lives in gray spaces between being uber personal and devoid of depth.
It’s like a communication sniper, a stripped-down decontextualized message that is targeted directly at your brain. One click, and you’ve shot an idea bullet into someone’s world.
You better hope they know it is friendly fire.
Who writes the rules of texting?
I ask because I feel two ways about it all.
In a world where asynchronous communication has become the modus operandi (i.e. inbox curation), the text message seems to be reserved for more urgent and acute matters…or not.
About half of all my text seems to be about communication itself: “Can we talk soon?” “When is a good time?” “Are you free now?” “Ok, call me.”
I’ve become so peevish about calling people so as not to interrupt their blissful lives that I text them instead to see if they’re available to chat.
Is that truly any less disruptive?
On one hand, I respect texts as a gap-fill that says, “I want your attention and need a direct reply, but I’m too busy/timid/afraid/lazy/uncomfortable to call.”
My favorites are my wife’s texts when she’s downstairs and I’m upstairs. Why shout across the house. Facetime me :)
I also enjoy a text that is akin to a Facebook “poke” of the early days. “Hey, I’m alive and thinking of you. What’s new?” Add a few emojis or a gif and we’re all good.
On the other hand, I protect everyone’s right to ignore unsolicited messages and get back to them when you have the time.
We all need to set and protect boundaries that keep our digital lives from taking over every aspect of our day. So please take the time and space necessary to respond appropriately.
(Just don’t make me wait forever!)
What Is Proper Text Message Decorum?
A delayed response can seem like a lack of interest or a chance to mull it over.
A quick, unedited response might seem flippant or casually cool.
A single-click “I heart your message” may seem lazy or endearing.
A lengthy text reply may seem like oversharing or a bid for intimacy.
An emoji-filled, ALL CAPS, animated text might seem childish or enthusiastic.
There’s much to consider with digital decorum. The problem is that most of the time I don’t deliberately consider any of it. It happens at an unconscious level.
What I do think carefully about is the timing of my responses and what that may say about my engagement with the idea or person in question.
Am I being polite? Am I respecting their timeline? Am I communicating my truth?
If I’m avoiding responding, what does that say about me?
I’d say I’m fairly responsive as a text messager. Yet the social norms and mores around this are still in formation. (Ahh, a great topic for this site.)
There’s no official texting rulebook. (Is there? I should have Googled it.)
The collective forming and norming of text message decorum is a moving average of psychological acceptability that may or may not actually reflect any individual’s preference.
Nonetheless, there seem to be unspoken and agreed-upon rules of good texting practices. Here are my own.
How My Brain Approaches Texting
Here is how my brain manages the tricky dimensions of texting etiquette:
It’s my prerogative to not respond: With the onslaught of incoming media, I need to protect my headspace. If I were polite, I’d text you to tell you that I’m not responding. Of course, that is a response in and of itself and defeats the purpose of not responding. (Damn, it’s a bind.)
If I texted you, I have already placed you into 1 of 3 possible categories based on personal texting history:
Quick Responder: I’ll expect a text back almost immediately. If not, I have good reason to believe you’re doing something important and will respond soon.
Medium Responder: I’ll expect a response within a few hours, a day at most.
Slow Responder: I’m lucky if you text back by the end of the month.
Unanswered texts still drain cognitive resources: The 2-minute rule states that if you can complete a task in less than two minutes, just do it immediately. Otherwise, it will act like an open app, lingering in the background, and slowly draining your battery. (See: Zeigarnik Effect —> failing to complete a task creates underlying cognitive tension, which is what makes you keep coming back to it.)
Deciding whether to respond requires triangulating three main data points:
The content of the message
The sender of the message
What I am doing at the time of receiving the message.
More specifically, the heuristics of responding decide whether the incoming message…
Requires a longer, more thoughtful response than I can give/am willing to give right now.
Does not necessitate an immediate response due to the underlying content of the message.
Is part of a group text which almost always is background chatter
Is from a “Slow Responder” and they can taste their own medicine.
Is received when I’m actively engaged in other work and honestly cannot look at my phone. (But I still feel you vibrate, damn you.)
Is received when I’m not actively engaged in other things but really should be. Therefore, responding would amount to “phubbing”.
Is received when I’m not actively engaged in other things and would happily accept a text message distraction.
Is from my wife. (i.e. special category.)
Outliers and anomalies must be handled on a case-by-case basis.
Starting the exchange with an immediate response and then moving to a delayed response.
Seeing the ominous “three little dots” displayed on your screen.
Just calling because they didn’t respond.
Messages with images, videos, and gifs.
Don’t even get me started on group texts. They’re like chronic itches that can be ignored until you’re specifically called out or everyone starts scratching at the same time.
These factors (and probably many others) interplay to create a tangle of possible text outcomes.
I wonder if people’s texting habits mirror their email habits. It would make sense that the rules and strategies you use for organizing digital data would like to crossover from one medium to the next.
I’m not an “Inbox Zero” kinda guy, but I do like to keep my text messages always cleared out.
That is unless I’ve flagged a message to be dealt with at a later time. I leave these unread despite knowing that that little red circle will haunt me every time I look at the screen.
That number ensconced in a red circle is the symbol of all that’s good, bad, and ugly with our digital lives.
~ Jeff
Post to comments your best texting practices, etiquette, and decorum.