I’m a very late adopter of the voice message. For that reason, I still consider them fairly new, despite also recognising that for years I actively hated them. When they first became a thing I was still in an office job, and a surreptitious text conversation at my desk would be stunted by ‘that’ friend who drops a voice note, which I could neither listen nor respond to without unintentionally bringing my colleagues into one big group chat. Until recently I could probably count on one hand the number of VM’ers I knew, including a friend abroad who’d routinely leave what can only be considered short-form podcasts in which he’d give several updates, ask multiple questions and (to my absolute fury) suggest times and dates for things that could only be revisited by listening to the whole damn monologue all over again.
There was also something I found very confronting about a voice message. The fact that it was more real, more like conversation, meant I couldn’t let it go unanswered for hours (ahem, days) like a text. As a seasoned people-pleaser this was just unwelcome pressure. It seemed I either needed to be instantly available to anyone at anytime, or else seem rude and ultimately start shedding friends like a baby sheds tears.
But that was back then. A different time, before the pandemic picked up our social lives and shook out all the contents. Before we’d spent two years confined to Zoom, forgetting how or why to dress ourselves. When we took the simple things for granted in blissful ignorance that one day connection might be scarce.
Suddenly, to receive a voice message no longer felt uncomfortable but like a gift. Having spent so much time trapped with myself, I didn’t want to read the words of friends on screen in silence, I wanted them alive with me in the room. The inflection, the humour, the emotion. The dithering we all do when we’ve forgotten what the hell it was we wanted to say and there’s no one to pick up the slack (also why I’d previously never leave voicemails - the digital equivalent of being naked in a classroom!). Voice notes normalise the imperfection of friendly chat. Unrehearsed and unrefined. There’s an intimacy in the realness that will always be lacking over text.
Despite VM’s being a modern advancement, they’re also strangely retro. In a world of text, abbreviations and the clipped message (‘KR’ never an OK sign-off), voice messages are more akin to the old school phone calls made from a landline ‘just because’. Or the random blather that would fill a letter to a pen-pal - mundane yet heartfelt in its sincerity.
What can I say - times have changed. Now I’m that friend who’ll drop a voice note. A fully-fledged convert, I’m obsessed with the familiarity of them. I‘ll have back and forths with friends that go on for hours, and I adore them. I feel closer, more connected. I laugh more and project less. The pressure I feel to respond is the same, but strangely I appreciate the urgency of replying to someone I care about. Being present with people I’d wish to be with in the present. The fluidity of the imperfect dialogue. The umm’s and likes and y’knows that make up the rich tapestry of shooting the breeze.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a poor substitute for real-life face-to-face action, or even a phone call. It’s a disastrous paper trail for sharing info we may need to refer to later. And if it’s work-related, definitely take that sh*t over to email. But in the social-sphere of comms with friends, I’ve been turned on this one, and when it comes to chat, I’d rather hear you talk than text.
The Spin
Text might make us feel like we’re communicating, but so much can be lost through a typed message.
Our voices are unique and thus offer an individual part of ourselves when shared. They carry our emotions, our laughter, our enthusiasm.
Hearing voice messages have been proved to help with feelings of isolation and loneliness when compared with text messaging. They help us feel more connected.
Voice messages are far less likely to get misinterpreted, as our voice carries the inflection that might get missed or misread over text.
Adding More Weight
Voice Communication Creates Stronger Bonds Than Text
What Does Your Tone of Voice Convey?
Your Voice May Be More Valuable Than You Think
Option to Go Deeper
Who You Gonna Call?
Ghostbusters? No. You’re not. Who do you actually love speaking to? Who brings you joy when you hear their voice? Give them a call, and if you can’t do that, maybe drop them a voice message. And if they’re not here anymore, maybe record a voice message anyway - then it’s between you and the ether!
Voice memos are everything
In lieu of a VM, I left this comment but will regard the lack of VM as such a lost opportunity. Also scared of losing my voice in a box. TY.