Help! I joined a Zoom work group during the pandemic and now I can't get out. It was helpful at first, but now I just feel like it's a drain on my time and energy. It's become a daily chore that I dread. I avoid confrontation at all costs and want to find a way to ease out without being rude. Any suggestions?
My advice for Doomed-to-Zoom
Oh my friend, I’m sorry you’re feeling the pain of being stuck in a relationship that’s exceeded it’s expiration date. Many people these days are in the same boat as you. A good friend of mine joined a remote workout class that she felt guilty leaving, even after the gyms opened. She paid the fee anyway and dutifully joined each class (with her camera off, since she already worked out that day). Another friend tried to dump her Zoom therapist, only to be guilted back into the relationship.
We don’t like letting people down.
I’ll assume that this isn’t a mandatory work meeting that you’re referring to. More like a writers group or work support group. A Zoom from-the-couch-happy-hour. Something that scratched your itch for social connection some time ago, and no longer serves that purpose.
Before I dive into advice, let’s talk about the psychology around what’s happening here. Why are people still in this group, and how many of them (really) still want to belong?
To start, many of us have moved away from doing anything remotely that we don’t have to. We have Zoom fatigue and are happy to get back to in-person social interactions. I’m in this boat. I hate socializing on Zoom.
However, that’s not all of us. At work, there’s a camp of people who learned how to have “water cooler conversations without the water cooler.” Many newcomers fall into this category—people who started their jobs during the pandemic, and have been working remotely since day one. These folks became experts at navigating the tricky world of work, online. They organized virtual small talks that were informal, allowing them to observe how people interact with one another. They became masters of digital repositories at work to learn the things their office neighbor would typically teach them. These online behaviors helped these folks develop relationships, learn organizational norms, and figure out which side jobs were worth doing to impress the boss and which weren’t. Let’s call them “virtual water cooler” experts; they shine the brightest in Zoom, and they want to keep things that way. One possibility is that your group is full of these people. You don’t see yourself this way, so you don’t feel like you belong. You prefer the old fashioned face-to-face stuff.
A second possibility is that this Zoom group isn’t full of water cooler ninjas, it’s full of like-minded others with similar backgrounds and experiences. The Zoom room is a safe space. Perhaps the members don’t feel networked at work, or have a hard time breaking past the periphery to join new groups. I’ve met a handful of people who fall into this category. The Zoom group they belong to doesn’t help them connect with folks in their current job (in fact, almost no one in the group works at their organization). But it does make them feel connected to people who are like them. They encourage each other and provide support.
I’ll entertain a third, simpler possibility. The Zoom group isn’t really working for anyone. No one feels the spark anymore, but they assume everyone else still does. They stay out of pluralistic ignorance. There’s some interesting social science research showing that most of us overstay our welcome in conversations (they go on for twice as long as people want), and the same is probably true for these types of groups. If the group is cohesive, this feeling of “I should stay because everyone else is staying” might be at play. You’re all bored, but no one wants to be the first to break up the band.
Why is it important to know why you, and others, are staying? Because it will help you figure out what you’re still getting from this group, and how you should frame your break-up conversation.
If your group falls into the first category—virtual water cooler experts—then you’re probably leaving because you’ve found a better way to learn the things this group is intended to teach you. If this sounds like you, I would suggest thinking about whether the information you’re gaining on your own far outweighs what this group provides. Perhaps your in-person information is richer and more nuanced. Or you simply prefer to learn the lay of the land in the office. In this case, the best way to frame your exit is around time. Time’s a finite resource, and building redundancies into your day isn’t efficient. And most groups understand the argument, “I’m so sorry I don’t think I can make it—I just can’t find the time given my insanely busy schedule.”
If the group falls into the second category—it’s primary purpose is social connection—then you’ll need to navigate your exit with a sensitive touch. Dropping the group because you’re short on time might be true, but leading with this reason can cross as rejecting, especially if you’ve become close friends with your group. Before you exit (which I suggest you do slowly), think about the cost of losing these relationships. There’s a chance that these social connections will serve you in the future—I often turn to my early social supporters for career advice later on, and often, for references. But these relationships also come with a cost. In some cases, spending time with your Zoom group takes time away from developing relationships with other colleagues, and learning new things that will help you succeed at your job. Telling your group that you still value your relationships, but you also need to spend time developing new relationships at work, might help soften the blow. I would also suggest keeping in touch and occasionally dropping into Zoom happy hour.
And lastly, if you fall into the third category—people are staying out of pluralistic ignorance—missing a few meetings will probably start a cascade of exits. People might secretly thank you in the end.
To cheer you up, here’s a picture of me at Zoom Rock Bottom, participating in a Zoom group (that I was not happy about) from my then eight-year-old’s bedroom.
Have a workplace dilemma?
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Extra Bits and Bobs.
Quiet Quitting. If you aren’t doing it, you probably know someone who is. You definitely know a boss who’s pissed off about it. In this piece by “The Moneyist” Quentin Fottrell, I weight in on the phrase we all love to hate or just plain love. What is quiet quitting, really? Bad idea or good? I hate it, actually. It feels like a race to the bottom. And it reminds me of stonewalling in close relationships. Crossing your arms, rolling your eyes, and refusing to engage in an effort to give your partner the middle finger. Things never end well when we quietly quit our romantic relationships, and I don’t think they end well when we do it at work, either. Disagree with me? Tell me why!
What I’m Reading
I spent the last two weeks in Canada and Miami Beach, not doing work. My reading? The Shades of Magic Trilogy by V.E. Schwab. I love a good fantasy novel series with good psychology weaved in. This one has 4 Londons and solidly broody main characters. A 5 out of 5. Great if you need an escape from the humdrum.