Why your Zoom Party Sucks (and How You can Make it Better)
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The development of human infrastructure started before the development of agrarian society. One might even argue that transit infrastructure predates humans, because we often share paths with the other species with whom our design constraints overlap, however briefly. For thousands of years, millions of people (and animals) shared foot-paths to secure shelter, food, and water. As humans put down agricultural roots, the creation of trading hubs and farming communities followed from the same iterative process.
Today, our transit grid is literally built atop the ruins of yesterday. Many walking paths became horse paths, which gave way to early unpaved roads. These roads were the perfect place to drive cars, because the road design considerations are quite similar for the Model T and the ox cart, go figure. Humans have confronted acute issues, like pedestrian deaths, and chronic ones, like distracted driving, with the same prune/grow cycle since the dawn of our species.
In the material world, iterative design processes come easily. Each generation adds their own perspective to the design of a physical object, no one is starting from scratch. Movie projectors become rear projection TVs, which become LCD screens, which give way to smartphones. The observable, physical remnants of our parents’ technology become inspiration for new growth and improvement.
In 2020, some version of .com infrastructure is available to more than 60% of the global population. But, it suffers from an incomplete and brief history. Its non-physical and rapidly degrading structure makes iteration a much more complex process. For example, deviations from “designed” pathways are not nearly as visible as the cowpaths in an open field. Also, a website missed by the Internet Archive is lost to history.
Almost as a cruel joke of exponential growth, the internet has been iterated on so rapidly that it would be unrecognizable to someone from two decades ago. While the infrastructure of the internet has a grassroots history, this growth curve has quickly consolidated observational and generative power. Building a widely-adapted and safe web service in 2020 is much closer to building a bridge than making a cowpath, a power only bestowed on those with the rare combination of excesses in labor, infused cash, and forethought.
In other words, we need to intensely study current implementations of internet infrastructure to improve it for tomorrow. Practically speaking, no one can lift a hammer until the bulk of the finished product is fully realized. So, it’s wise to look at the online landscape of 2020 to build a better one in 2025. And, what better time to look for data than the biggest shift to online infrastructure since the global adoption of the internet?
Between November of 2019 and April of 2020, over a third of the world has completely shut down. To reduce transmission of COVID-19, most people in nations with reliable broadband are exclusively interacting with the outside world through their computer screens. Where before the internet was widely considered a secondary substitute to embodied infrastructure; today, the internet has become our only choice for communications, financial management, and purchasing. Roads are quiet, libraries are empty, coffee shops and bars are closed, our daily lives have gone almost entirely digital.
According to a recent article in the New York Times, shutdowns have not caused a blanket increase in internet use. Use of social media sites, for example, has actually fallen over previous years. And, despite the memes, use of Netflix and Youtube has remained relatively stable. So, someone looking for online cowpaths is forced to ask, where is all of our time going if it’s not directed at the industry leaders of the 2010’s?
Two types of internet service have gained significant online market share in the last six months: video chatting and online games. The spike is striking, especially because one might assume that these two categories are much different from one another. After all, the concerned parents of yester-year were passionate, sometimes irate, about the anti-social effects of video games. Why are Zoom and Twitch seeing the same spike in users? Is it, perhaps, that they are both roads to the same destination?
There is no sociological research yet about online culture during COVID-19 to help us understand what purpose these platforms are serving. For now, we have to lean on assumptions and anecdotes to extract meaning out these noteworthy usage trends. To that end, I argue that a correlation of decreased face-to-face interaction with increased video calling and gaming suggests that these platforms are filling the social gap of self-isolation.
I can personally attest to these changes in my time online. Since shutdowns began, my use of Zoom has skyrocketed from about 1 hour a week to over 20, and my online game-play has easily quadrupled. Almost all of my social interaction takes place over video call and Discord channel and I know, based on these numbers, that I’m not alone. Heck, my nearly 80 year old grandfather is a confident Zoom user, and my grandma spends more than eight hours a day playing Words with Friends on her iPad.
Huge portions of users are using these platforms for the first time. As designers, if we look closely enough, we might be able to see the cowpaths forming in this new version of the internet. In regards to game-play and video calling spikes, we should be asking “why is this shift good, why is it bad? What are we doing well, what can we do better?”
Suddenly, we have a whole world of people relying on these digital services in novel ways. For the last few weeks, I’ve taken meticulous notes of my interactions online, and I’ve also taken the time to interview friends and family about their experiences. Here, I’ll share with you what I’ve learned about the social internet during the COVID-19 shutdown.
I’m not Coming to Your Zoom Happy Hour.
I have never made friends on a group Zoom call. Whenever I’ve tried, it seems like either no one is talking, or we are all trying to talk at once. Friends of mine report feeling trapped in front of their computers during group video calls, like somehow people will worry you’re never coming back if you stand up to go to the bathroom. I tend to leave these experiences feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.
Users use the in-app chat to redistribute naturally forming side conversations, but the chat notifications are noticeably distracting to those speaking. Plus, in the Zoom interface, all private chats happen in the same thread. I imagine many have experienced awkward mix ups when replying to one private message over another. Despite best efforts, video calling is a platform that doesn’t seem to lend itself to socializing. So, why?
I think it’s especially fruitful to learn by analogy, by comparing the struggles that users are having online to the ones that people have in person. I think everyone has left a party feeling more alone than when they arrived, and if it is happening in Zoom calls, there must be a common thread between these embodied and online experiences.
When I have a miserable experience at an in-person gathering, it often comes down to not feeling heard, having too much stimulation, or having too little. In-person, these mistakes are less common than in Zoom gatherings because putting on music and listening to others comes easily face-to-face. Something about video calling requires us to relearn the basics of party planning all over again, andthe platforms certainly aren’t going to make the party fun without your input.
In this way, an unstructured Zoom call is like sitting in an empty, echoey, white room with no music. I think we partly owe this sterility to business-driven origins of video-calling. In 2020 they even allow you to share a Powerpoint presentation and record a meeting!
But, in my experience, Zoom is a horrible place to relax with friends. Finding online spaces purely for social interaction is going to require a solution to the sterility. We need to actively practice online party-planning, as both designers and participants.
Getting My Mom to Play Fortnite
The first thing my mom did in Fortnite was jump into the ocean. The experience was hilariously traumatic for her. One minute she was parachuting out of an airbus, the next she was drowning to death.
I’m still not entirely sure how she ended up in the water, but I remember her giggles and screams as she talked me through her slow and painful expiration. “I’m drownding!” she exclaimed, while my dad and I roared from laughter on opposite ends of the phone. For a brief moment, they didn’t feel so far away.
My mom is a pretty stereotypical Gen X parent. She wouldn’t allow me to play games with any kind of violence while I lived in her house, concerned about the way Call of Duty might affect my developing brain. Of course, she couldn’t stop me from playing at my friend’s houses, but she would roll her eyes and lecture me about simulated violence.
Before COVID-19, my mom would have never tried to play a shooting game. But once social distancing began, it only took a few conversations to convince her to try it. I explained how my friends and I use games to feel closer to one another, and that I wanted to find a way to spend time with her online too. With valiant bravery, my mom sacrificed her ego for the promise of fun and connection.
Her skills improved each time we played. On the second go around, she was able to pick up weapons and move around. Although, for some reason, she found herself walking backwards almost everywhere. A weird stylistic choice, but by no means a disqualifying factor of came play. By the end of the third round we played, she scored her first kill!
I felt really connected to my mom while she played, but that connection wasn’t worth the trade-off of the game for her. After giving it her all, my mom got too frustrated by Fortnite to soldier on. The game wasn’t rewarding enough at her skill-development pace, and the coordination of camera control, movement, and weapons was too complicated for her to manage, even at the beginner control scheme.
GG
I play League of Legends socially, on and off. I’m not a competitive or “ranked” player, but I do enjoy a game or two with a beer and friends on Friday night. It’s fun, and frustrating, and I usually have to stop myself from staying up too late.
Connecting with friends on League usually starts with a five person Discord voice chat, where everyone joins a big conference call before jumping into a game. We check in and see how everyone is doing while we’re in the lobby. The idle time at the beginning of the game helps us meet new team additions, form strategies, and catch up before the action.
League of Legends games are 5 vs 5, with tactical positioning and player development. The game has been compared to soccer, and it’s a lot of fun once you master the rules. Before the start of a League game, you and your team must coordinate who is responsible for what play, establishing trust that your teammates will show up to their post.
When the game begins, players run to different parts of the map and begin working at their assigned positions. Being a good team requires constant communication, it’s common to hear a player ask “you doing okay up there?” Checking in is common, expected. Good teammates should be on the lookout to make sure they are coordinating with the rest of the team, balancing people’s needs.
Five people on a conference call should be a complete disaster. In my experience with conference calls of more than three people, conversations meander. That’s if they can even get started! The flow of chit chat happens in fits and starts as people constantly interrupt one another.
When I’m playing League, though, I never feel frustrated about the flow of the conversation. Small talk takes place naturally, people rarely cut one another off. Silences aren’t long but they aren’t awkward either, and the pace of the conversation is tied to the pace of the competition. I suspect that many other online players feel the same way about their remote social interactions.
A few years ago, I lived with two semi-professional League of Legends players. They were dating then, they’re married now, and they spent most of their leisure time in game together. They turned our dining room into a gaming station, with two computer desks next to one another. Most evenings, they would be stationed at their own computers, deep in concentration.
From an outside perspective, one might assume that two people with headphones on, staring at separate screens would be socially divided. Instead, I think that their voluntary choice to hang out in digital space when they could have been in physical space is indicative of the connection people feel while playing online games together.
League of Legends play is not a substitute for physical hang out time, it is a self-contained social space. It is fun, it makes me feel connected to other players. I think anyone playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons right now can relate, online play spaces are FUN!
How to party online
Anytime I’m bringing together friends who have never met before, I pull out a board game. Even something as simple as Cards Against Humanity — the less bitter, Apples to Apples — cuts the tension in the room quickly. People loosen up, share more about themselves, and acclimate to the new social climate faster than they would have with small-talk alone.
Online multiplayer game-play provides the same foundation for synergy and trust that board games do. They save you from awkwardly forced small talk, they give the group a rhythm. Humans love games because they turn individuals into groups, meetings into shared experiences.
Leaning on early history again, it’s impossible to overstate the importance of games on human camaraderie and relationship building. From the famous story about the ancient society of Lydia mandating game-play to increase citizen morale during an extended famine, to the enduring geopolitical legacy of the Olympic Games, game-play is deeply woven into the tapestry of human culture.
Ultimately, I think that a lot of the strain of Zoom happy hours can be alleviated by thinking in a design driven way. Watching the Superbowl together is much more fun than staring at a blank wall together. While I can’t prescribe exactly what activities you should try with your friends online, there are a few traits you should be looking for:
- Common goals: Watching the same TV show is a common goal, everyone at a party knows the expectations of shared viewing. Try using the browser extension Netflix Party or sharing screen and sound on a Zoom call to watch a movie together.
- Play: There’s a reason that parents have spent generations convincing their children to play little league. Play is an easy, contained, and safe way to create all of the elements of trust in a group of people. Even simple games like “Never Have I Ever” are great for trust-building.
- Synchronous experiences: League of Legends makes a call less awkward because the emotional swells and contractions happen for everyone at the same time. A win for one person is a simultaneous win for the rest of the team. Putting on music in your Zoom party is a great way to bring this same synchronicity to your gathering.
Where do we go from here?
When comparing the two newly minted forms of cultural infrastructure, video calling and online game-play, context is key. It’s as challenging to have a business meeting while playing in the company softball league as it is to have a vulnerable social interaction at a board-room table. I am not suggesting that either video calling or online multiplayer games are better than the other, but rather that we can learn from and improve both.
Based on my experiences, online game-play is still intimidating for beginners. In much the same way that sports and board games are scaffolded, it is vital to introduce more rungs to the online multiplayer ladder to accommodate people who desperately crave this form of camaraderie. My mom still asks me what games she should be playing online with her friends, and I don’t have a good answer for her.
Also, I think that online multiplayer video games can teach us a lot about creating effective social interactions in video calls. Synchronous experiences like watching movies together or broadcasting music will increase your sense of community in the call, and reduce the number of awkward interruptions and pauses you have to fight through. Even better, if you are able to set-up a game for your group like Jackbox Games or HQ Trivia, you’ll feel connected in your shared experience of play.
Last, for those designers looking to bring the best of both worlds into online social infrastructure, don’t build empty rooms! Even the best business environments leave room for fun and play in their meetings, and building a bit of shared experience into your platform will reward players for spending time in your environment.
Look to the places people bond in embodied life, and distill those shared experiences into something accessible online. Don’t forget that cultural innovation follows the same process as material innovation. Follow the road of your ancestors.
Last, and most important, don’t forget to have fun! Seriously. Life is a waste of time if you don’t make time for it. Even — especially — in times of great change and upheaval.