Last weekend I spent three days with my college roommates. Each of us was tasked with bringing “artifacts” from our college days to share with the group. My artifacts were — letters! Real, paper letters that each of them had written me and that I had saved and filed in one plastic folder labeled “roommates.”
Another artifact I produced was a book of emails. Yes, a book. Our first year out of college, we sent email updates to each other, and I printed them all out, organized them, and bound them as a kind of archive to share with each member of the group. (Those of you who know me well will recognize this as very on-brand!)
In my early twenties, I had this idea that I would read and respond to emails just like I read and responded to letters. And after responding, I would carefully file each one so I could find it again or go back and re-read it (or save it for 25 years and then share it with the author!).
That first year after college was the last time I achieved inbox zero. It was September 2000. I was 24.
My relationship with email has totally changed since then.
I’ve started to hate email. I avoid it. I procrastinate. I’m afraid of what is lurking in my inbox. I resent the demands that I feel like others impose on me by sending me emails.
I know some of this is irrational. Some of it stems from real trauma—all those difficult emails I received from dysregulated families when I was an elementary school principal during COVID (if you were in school leadership during that time, you know exactly what I mean).
I’ve tried sharing my inbox with an executive assistant or a work partner. I’ve tried locking my door, turning on a white noise machine, putting my feet in a foot massager and setting a timer to do just 10 minutes at a time. I’ve tried making my email look pretty by color-coding each account in a way that brings me joy.
But there is no joy.
Pretty much the only way I got through my email in my previous job was by sharing my inbox with my executive assistant, and having her code everything so I knew what was urgent and what could wait, and draft replies for me so all I had to do was glance at her suggested draft, make a few tweaks, and press send.
When I started working for myself two years ago, I briefly tried having a virtual (human) assistant support me in the same way, but it wasn’t the same.
As I vented about this problem to an AI expert friend, thinking it was an incurable character flaw that I just had to change within myself, she surprised me by saying, “Oh, you need Superhuman!”
She showed me this app that she used to interact with her existing email accounts, how she used smart tags to create multiple inboxes so she could quickly glance at one topic at a time. The interface was minimalist. No distractions. Just email.
By the time I started using Superhuman seriously, it also offered AI-powered smart replies. Now, if I don’t reply to an email within 24 hours, it automatically drafts a response for me (just like my invaluable former executive assistant!), making it easier to get started with my reply.
Yesterday, I processed 45 emails in 18 minutes—something that used to take me two hours of procrastination plus 45 minutes of actual work.
I will note that Superhuman is not cheap by subscription standards (I’m currently paying $40 a month) but I think it’s well worth it.
I still don’t love email. I’m still resentful when I get added to mailing lists I didn’t sign up for. I try to do as much as possible of my work in person, on the phone, or by Zoom.
But email is also how I communicate with my clients, and it’s how long-lost friends sometimes reconnect. What a delight!
A wise colleague, friend, and tech-savvy Mom of two kids under three, has a frequent refrain, “The robot can do that!” She is constantly showing me hacks to automate my phone, computer, and calendar, so I can spend more time on what actually matters to me. On Thursday, I’ll share some of the most-loved meeting, calendar, and writing tools that she has introduced me to, including a writing hack that is making it possible for me to overcome the anxiety to write and share this post.
In the meantime, check out Superhuman. I don’t get kickbacks if you sign up for it. I share this because it has truly helped me reduce the friction that I feel with my email. I hope it helps you reclaim some time and headspace, too.
The way I see it, every minute you save on something tedious, like email, is a minute more you can spend doing the parenting and leadership work that only you can do.
Your turn:
Does anyone have a happier relationship with email than I do? What are your tricks?
Does anyone hate email and also have a way of getting through it with minimal pain?
If you try Superhuman (or already use it), I’d love to hear what features work best for you.
🕊️
SAM
I like this topic!
Email is one area where I don’t feel so bad letting AI replace my brain. I don’t use superhuman yet (my husband does bc his work pays for it), but I do find myself increasingly drafting very barebones emails and asking AI to do the rest. My inbox is still kind of out of control with junk that I don’t even open let alone read, but for the emails I do want to respond to in a fairly straight forward way I’m finding chatgpt to be a useful writing buddy.
I do like to pride myself on being one of those people who responds to all emails within the "24-hour rule" and someone who gives personal attention to each one. However, who knew you could do both in a more efficient way? Thanks for the tip on Superhuman, and looking forward to reading your next helpful hack!