Communication and Constant Contact

Cal Newport's recent Deep Life podcast had the interesting (and somewhat sad) question "How do I convince my husband that the “deep life” isn’t an excuse to ignore me?"

This question got me thinking on communication strategies, and how "hyperactive hive mind" has become a somewhat defacto way of organizing daily life for couples and families.  I can completely understand how a wife would be annoyed that their husband blocks out "deep work" time and doesn't respond.  For so many reasons I think the whole concept of "deep work" is easier for men to attain than women.  Men's time has always been protected in a way women's hasn't (see all work by Eve Rodsky).

Cal Newport often gets accused of being a standard productivity-bro and not understanding how the situation is different for women - accusations which are not entirely unjustified.  However, his answer to the above question basically said "Partners need to agree on a definition of a deep life.  If you're not in agreement, then nothing will work."

This, to me, is very legit advice.

When Andy was on Whatsapp I used it for the general stream of chatter about my day, the kids, the garden.  Pictures of the kids or of things I saw.  If something was urgent, I would text or call.

When Andy left WhatsApp I was in the house one day and wanted to tell him about something weird the neighbors did (please keep in mind, this was when I was on maternity leave during Covid, so there was literally nothing to do and I was bored out of my skull).  When he got home he said "could you please only text me things that are important?"  At first it felt odd being out of communication with my husband for 8 hours a day.  

Now, I can't imagine what we spent all that time messaging about.  I know there is a modern philosophy that random texts throughout the day is supposed to be nice.  A sign your thinking about your partner.  However, what I think is nicer, personally, is that when Andy and I are together he is not getting/reading WhatsApps from groups and people.  When we spend time together, as a a family, we are only together.  There are no bleeps or blips.

There is so much commentary about phone usage rules, alerts, check-in times, etc.  Mostly pushed by the large tech companies and their lackeys.  My rules are simple.  My phone rings when I get calls.  It doesn't ever make any other noise.  

It's hard for me to remember sometimes that people use so many forms of communication equally.  How do you rate the importance of Instagram vs. WhatsApp vs. Text vs. Call vs.... Tik-Tok...? I don't know.  It's been an adjustment for Andy to realize that I don't get texts right away anymore - but I don't miss the sacrifice of constant availability in the name of not missing a potentially important text.  

It turned out, when it came to availability for constant communication, barely anything was as important as I thought it was.  We almost all survived the 90s... we almost all survived landlines.  When we moved to constant contact, we didn't give up "nothing" [landlines] in pursuit of "something better" [constant contact].  We gave up "something" [our own time? disconnection?] in pursuit of "something different" [constant contact].  

I didn't realize men become men and women become mum.

 This morning I opened the news to see this article:

I started to wonder, why is she a mum with rare disease?  If she had a rare disease and wasn't a "mum" would she be "person"? Does one lose their "person-ness" when they have kids and then everything they do is "mum"?  

If these two people were mothers would the story read "mums start cheese company in local town?"

I clicked around for a while, seeing what mums and people were up to.  The first article I found about a dad was this awful one:

This is clearly a dad.  Why does a dad, in an article referencing an experience with his own child, get called a "man" while a woman who has a disease unrelated to children gets called a mum?

Tabitha Carivan had a great chapter about this is her book This is Not a Book about Benedict Cumberbach.  When you have kids, you are a mom.  You are not a person who runs, you are a mom who runs.  You are not a working person, you are a working mom.  

Apparently, even when it comes to news, the world separated into is men, mothers, and other.  

I didn't realize that after kids my husband got to keep being "man" while I became "mum".

Gendered Impact of Technology: Whatsapp and Social Plans

I've spent some time considering the differences between my WhatsApp departure and my husband's WhatsApp departure,  and I am starting to wonder whether the disparate reactions are indicative of a larger gendered impact of smartphone technology on women.

Social planning is an area where women tend to take a larger role, and social apps have generally increased the time investment involved for social planning.  

In the olden days, such as 1980, we planned a party by mailing invites to our friends.

In the "middle days", such as 1995, we called people, or emailed a suggested date or two.

Now, much of our social activity is planned by mutual consent on a WhatsApp group.  A steady stream of communication, suggestions, amendments.

Organizing a dinner can take days - deciding on a date, a time, a venue.  All of this is done publicly, under the observation and commentary of the other members of the group.  Everyone can add an opinion, about anything, at anytime.  Opinions are free, and we all want to do what is best for everyone.

It's a very kind way of organizing, and very inclusive.  And it suits everyone, and it's free. 

The problem is... time isn't free.  Organizing via individual invitation takes a set amount of time.  Organizing through hive mind communication has no defined time commitment.  It could take days or weeks, you could need to reply with many positive agreements or supportive options.  Maybe everyone has a different option.  Maybe you had an idea but others have another idea and everyone wants to be polite.

The cost of all of it is time.  Fractured bits of time, unclear negotiations, and a the potential for a steady low level anxiety that you're doing the wrong thing, or said the wrong thing, or are being too bossy or indecisive.

All of this extra time and anxiety is centred somewhere.  If women are traditionally/historically the primary social planners and organizers they become the default carriers of any additional load from the planning process. 

This transition happened so quickly, so naturally, that I don't think we remember how it used to be.  I don't remember it taking this much time to plan something.  I don't think the plans we make are changing, so it can only be that the way we plan is changing.  I wonder if we're generally aware of any gendered implications of that change.

Gendered Impact of Technology: Women in Public

I've spent some time considering the differences between my WhatsApp departure and my husband's WhatsApp departure, and I am starting to wonder whether the disparate reactions are indicative of a larger disparate gendered impact of smartphone technology for women.

Recently I had the chance to join a protest for things I believe strongly in.  Pregnant than Screwed organized the March of the Mummies in Cardiff - campaigning for things very close to my heart:

• Good quality affordable childcare for all children
• Flexible working as the default
• Ring fenced, properly paid paternity leave

I decided not to go.  Embarrassing as it is, one of the reasons I didn't want to attend was fear of trolls, of ending up on the internet, of putting myself in a public space.

I'm a firm believer that the history of "public vs. private space" is a history of the power of men to control the public sphere. I wrote dissertations on this... two of them.  Both dissertations promoted the notion that in the 1800s and early 1900s women had public influence through their private influence.

Pardon my French, but I now call BS on this concept.

I now believe that the idea of 19th century women wielding "power" in private, through their husbands, their home life, their local communities and associations, is actually a history of subjugation.  It may be a narrative appropriate for individual women - some women held agency or public influence through community association, but that doesn't mean women generally had access to this power.  

Creating a structure where a woman can influence is not the same as creating a structure where women have influence.

I thought about going out in public, in support of women and mothers wanting rights and equality, and I was afraid.  When Caroline Criado-Perez dared suggest we have a women on our bills she was subjugated to horrific abuse on the internet.  The public sphere was historically not for women, and the internet has become an extension of that.  

I read the march comments on WalesOnline, which I should never do, and the vitriol against women is extreme.

The public sphere has never been a safe place for women.  The internet is even less so.  I know it seems insane to write on the internet about how unsafe I feel on the internet.  For me, the implied difference is that this blog is like my internet home. I’m not on Twitter or Facebook, the blog visitors (who I adore - thank you!) are generally “invited” from other blogs.  I feel marginally safe here, and like I have something I want to say which is larger than my fear of saying it.

I don’t feel safe on Twitter or Facebook or Google.  With the internet 2.0 we have created a second world, even more hostile to women than the one we initially tried to escape from.

Gendered Impact of Technology - WhatsApp Groups

I've spent some time considering the differences between my WhatsApp departure and my husband's WhatsApp departure,  and I am starting to wonder whether the disparate reactions are indicative of a larger disparate gendered impact of smartphone technology for women.

Generally, any person's WhatsApp is full of groups.  Before I left WhatsApp, I had many of them and I liked each person in all of them.  In fact, I created them or joined them to be full of people I liked.

At the same time, they were all commitments.  In a sense, these groups are akin to tiny Tamagotchis, all needing intermittent care and attention.  I loved the little serotonin hit I got from a new message, a quick distracting update from friends. I felt bad for the sadness people would share, bad news needed consolation. Quick wit needed to be quick.  People remembered birthdays and anniversaries and I needed to show I remember them too.

I don't think men engage with Whatsapp in this way.  Andy's WhatsApp was not full of groups.  The groups he was in would banter back and forth to the point where he didn't have to read it.  He didn't worry about missing an important update.  About not saying "happy birthday" on time.  He used it as a tool to make plans.   

For me, the line between correspondence and obligation seemed to blur.  Was I cultivating friendships in these groups?  Or were these groups the friendships in themselves?

Whatsapp groups fundamentally appeal to social and interpersonal relationships.  Women are often more affected by social bonds than men are.  Creating a second life where women maintain their friendships online, on their smart phones, outside of their interpersonal interactions, only adds to the social-emotional mental load women bear.