The curious case of virtual meetings and Zoom fatigue
A few years ago, the shift towards online professional communication was accelerated by a pandemic. It was a time that prompted us to ask:
‘Do we really… need… to be here? You know, physically?’
As it turns out, the answer is usually ‘no’.
Now, virtual meetings are the norm. But despite its obvious benefits, this swing to virtuality hasn’t been entirely smooth. When I was conducting a training session recently, some feedback from a sales team was that virtual meetings can still feel a bit… awkward.
And this doesn’t seem to be a unique experience. So, at a deeper level, why do virtual meetings tend to be more awkward and draining? And how can we make them better?
Zoom fatigue or something like it
Zoom fatigue and similar constructs generally describe the experience of exhaustion caused by sitting in many virtual meetings for long stretches of time; a process that seems disproportionately more draining than in-person work.
Research shows that this phenomenon tends to increase alongside app usage frequency, though notably, the quality of your internet connection also plays a role. And, as we might expect, ongoing exhaustion from poorly managed video calls could be a cause for concern. For example, some research has found a positive correlation between videoconferencing fatigue and burnout and depression.
Given the ubiquity of Zoom fatigue, researchers have been hard at work exploring this process in more depth. In a fantastic 2021 article, four theoretical arguments are presented by media psychologist Bailenson, all centring on the idea of Zoom causing ‘non-verbal overload’. I usually like to be a bit more creative in how I structure my writing but these points are important, so the next sections discuss each of these arguments (I have helpfully ‘re-titled’ them for you):
1. Staring at ourselves sucks
Source: Instagram
I think we’re at a point where it’s socially acceptable to confess that sometimes we look at ourselves when someone else is speaking. When you think about it, it is really unnatural and strange to watch oneself all day, but that’s what we can find ourselves doing if we have enough calls scheduled. This is not… a good thing. Here, Bailenson draws from research indicating that when we look in a mirror we are more likely to conduct a self-evaluation, and this may generate stress and negative emotional states. He argues that the “constant ‘mirror’ on Zoom” in the form of self-view would logically evoke the same stressful self-awareness and a focus on how others are seeing us.
And this mirror anxiety seems to be particularly concerning for women. New research on Zoom fatigue found that women reported significantly more of it; a conclusion that has now been drawn in a number of studies (e.g. also here). Here, the “gender fatigue effect” was mediated by mirror anxiety; so it could be valuable, especially for women, to consider minimising the self-view screen when online. At the same time, turning off your “mirror” limits your capacity to monitor and adjust your appearance, which can bring its own disadvantages including but also well beyond the embarrassment of speaking with spinach in your teeth. (For a great article on mental health, self-objectification, women and Zoom, check out this piece in the Conversation from 2022.)
So basically, one reason why these calls are more likely to fatigue us is that we are staring at ourselves often and likely becoming more self-critical, aware of our physical appearance, drained, and stressed.
2. Staring at others sucks
When you’re waiting for everyone else to join.
Something I’ve always found interesting in corporate training is the frequent use of general phrases like ‘make eye contact!’; phrases inferring that more eye contact is always better. What is usually meant, though, is more akin to ‘make a conscious effort to ensure there is a solid amount of eye contact, but don’t freak anyone out’. Eye contact is powerful and important for maintaining connection in our interactions. But when people give too much eye contact, that can become uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing. Even when we’re with someone close to us, we don’t typically stare continuously into their eyes (though exceptions obviously exist, like if you’re going for a poorly executed ‘rom-com moment’ or trying to present yourself as a potential serial killer, or both). We hold constant eye contact on Zoom, though.
Equilibrium theory posits that there’s a relationship between physical proximity, some aspects of intimacy, and eye contact. For example, if you are in a tight space next to a stranger, because of the unnaturally close proximity, you’ll probably be inclined to avert eye contact to counterbalance it. An elevator is a commonly used example: It’s uncomfortable and abnormal to be so close to people we don’t know, so to balance it out we don’t look at each other. A number of situations could bring us other examples, like waiting to pick up your coffee with others at a cafe; washing your hands next to someone in the restroom; or sitting next to a stranger on a bus.
Bailenson’s compelling argument here is that in virtual meetings we’re stuck with the double whammy of A) constantly staring at everyone at B) what feels like a very close physical distance (unless the other person’s camera is very far away from them). And, considering equilibrium theory, that’s a lot for our brains to deal with.
3. and 4. The extra cognitive load sucks, and you can’t even move around
What do virtual meetings usually involve? We sit in front of a screen and stare at 12 people at once; we send emojis and clap cartoon hands; we manage our microphones and background noise and volume and ask people to mute and mute them ourselves; we type messages to the group and then other secret messages to one person; we live annotate documents and share screens and play music and nod along and take notes and all the while try to make sure our cat doesn’t hijack the camera again.
It's really quite the production when you think about it.
I don’t know how many times I have physically given a thumbs up to my colleagues in a face-to-face meeting, but the gesture certainly gets some use over Zoom – a clear, conscious message that would hardly be necessary for most live environments. Everything on a video call just has to be that extra bit intentional. This cognitive load associated with Zoom, including an extra focus on sending and receiving non-verbal cues, is another source of fatigue according to Bailenson.
And the final source discussed in his article is restricted mobility: In a traditional videoconference, you are effectively confined to the physical space in front of your camera in order to be perceived as participating fully.
Anyone who has ever sat down for several hours at a time without moving much can testify to the sluggish, low-energy feeling it tends to bring. Then, consider what we know about the importance of physical exercise and movement (for example, research has found exercise to have a positive influence on aspects of cognitive functioning and creativity) as well as the common incidental benefits of movement, like the restorative effects of being out in nature while on a walk. Taken together, the idea of reconsidering how we ‘do’ virtual communication becomes even more compelling.
A small meaningful action: Auditing our ‘default settings’
Overall, virtual calls aren’t going anywhere: They’ve proven themselves to be invaluable platforms for more flexible and remote ways of working. Research also suggests that some people - for example, those who are more extroverted - are less prone to Zoom fatigue than others. Bailenson, too, makes clear that he sees Zoom as far from all bad, but his theoretical arguments prompt us all to reframe videoconferencing further away from ‘a remote kind of 'face-to-face’’ and towards an inherently manufactured, unnatural environment for communicating that requires a more considered approach.
I think it’s important to reflect on our current processes – likely ones that we took on without much conscious intent – and consider where we can make virtual meetings easier on ourselves. Some questions perhaps worth asking:
What is my physical movement like during the day? If not ideal, how can I more consciously integrate it? For example, perhaps you could do a ‘faceless walking meeting’ where each participant takes the call on their phone and goes for a walk or otherwise moves around more. (Side note: It took me far too long to remember that this is already a thing, and it’s called a ‘telephone call’.)
Considering the elevated load of non-verbal processing that comes with a high frequency of video calls, are there some regular meetings that I can ‘upgrade’ to phone calls or face-to-face instead? Is there a regular time or times that I can ‘block’ as ‘task-or-face-to-face-only’ during the week?
Personal level: Are there specific mechanisms I can employ to help me be more focused and energetic during and after virtual meetings? For example, turning off the self-view of the camera; making the Zoom window smaller; blocking 5 minutes between meetings to do something away from the screen; strengthening my internet connectivity; or making it more of a habit to start calls with a brief discussion around communication expectations.
Group level: Are there processes my team/department/group can put in place that can elevate the productivity, focus and relevance of our meetings? What discussions would be helpful to affirm our preferred norms and expectations?