We’re all cam performers now. Life in lockdown has led to an explosion in video calling-apps, with people turning to Zoom, Google Hangouts and others for everything from professional meetings to panel discussions and pub quizzes. For some of us, every day now seems to be a relentless barrage of screen conversations – exhausting, perhaps, but also, in our experience, the only viable way to keep the wheels spinning, the ideas sparking, and the business alive.
Now, a little over a month into this new order, we are all adjusting to our new displaced, digital reality and the new rules of work are starting to emerge. We’ve more or less nailed the basics of the video meeting (decent office chair, headphones, and lighting; professional, non-distracting background; elevate your screen so you're not hunchbacking; invite only people who need to take part; set an agenda; assign a leader; take minutes in real time), but there are still pitfalls to negotiate. Some of us have taken to the paradigm shift like ducks to hoisin, but others are still wrestling with the myriad unforeseen questions that the Zoomscape has thrown our way:
What counts as polite online now?
Can I go to the loo during a meeting?
Is it rude if I’m eating during group chat?
If I’m listening to a panel talk, can I turn my camera off?
Does the time lag make us listen more intently, or just talk over each other?
Is there such a thing as spontaneity any more? Does it matter?
It was a (very successful) Dirty Furniture panel discussion the other week that really got us thinking about these issues, sparking a discussion on Instagram. As Zetteler’s Head of Strategy, Rupert Evans-Harding (@rehview) puts it:
“Following last week’s @dirtyfurnituremag call, I started to think that we need a new etiquette and a new vocabulary for these things. If I join with video, I am broadcasting myself rather than anonymously sitting in a crowd. Is it OK to check my emails or cook at the same time, as it clearly would be when listening to a podcast? Or does the scenario demand my attention in the same way a physical event would? And what’s the verb? Are we ‘watching’? ‘Attending’? I think the word is probably ‘joining’, as video-conference live events feel much more active than physical events, which can induce passivity in the audience. Maybe video-conference talks are therefore better?”
Sabine Zetteler (@sabinezetteler) relishes the shift to a new kind of intimacy and connection that the age of video-conferencing has inspired:
“I miss the intimacy of being in a crowd and hugging my friends before and after and event but I can’t deny that it’s exciting being able to identify all the audience members. It’s almost as though everyone has a name badge hovering above their heads and you realise who you’re sitting amongst, which is usually a secret. You can see people at their most comfortable – perhaps with a painting, bookshelf or kid in view. The intimacy of that feels pretty special. The people who made it to last week’s @dirtyfurnituremag call included many professional heroes of mine and many peers I adore. That felt special.”
Design writer and curator Max Fraser (@maxfraserdesign) acknowledges that embracing video had the potential to entrench more sustainable travel habits, but laments the tendency to slide into artifice and performance that video-calling can encourage:
“It will definitely curtail excessive travel. But many cultures place great importance on the face-to-face ‘get to know’ phase, usually at the start of a project, so it’ll be interesting to see how that mindset is forced to relax. I often find large video calls soul-destroying, causing people to talk like hyped-up drones, using long words to say very little of importance. They have forced me into temporary existential crises in the past. Why does no one admit they’re wearing only underwear from the waist down? Would be way more fun. At least people have been more calm about admitting the presence of children/silly partners in the background!”
Architect Ray Cheung (@rtccheung) make the important point that, in some ways, lockdown has levelled the playing field, and that video conferences have created a space in which quieter, more introverted voices can be heard:
“I contemplate the recluse during the lockdown, and that social-distancing can be more inclusive/comfortable. Input and the sharing of ideas is not just for the performer/outspoken.”
Anna Bates, an editor at Dirty Furniture (@dirtyfurnituremag), reflected on their interview series Dirty Furniture Calling…, and the new found intimacy between speakers in this format:
“When you’re performing on a new platform it’s a little disarming. Most of the speakers have commented on this – but it’s given the talks a rawness that you don’t really experience these days. It’s something that we’ve really appreciated – they’ve shared a bit more of themselves than they may usually have."
In digital settings, meetings carry much less ‘baggage’; unspoken social signals, body language, background sounds, side conversations and – thanks to the fact that only psychopaths look directly into to the camera – eye contact are pretty much eliminated. Without these distractions and destabilising influences, the video meeting may be the closest thing we’ve achieved to a free and equal exchange of ideas.
It will take time to fully understand this new world, of course, but, at Zetteler, we believe the lessons we learn will remain relevant long after lockdown. The whole world is learning a new, liberating, more sustainable, way of working at the same time – we’re in the middle of a global training programme in the systems we need to build our personal and professional futures. That’s pretty exciting.
Have thoughts on the Zoom revolution? Share them via Instagram