The best bits are “below the fold”

I often tell younger colleagues that we’re lucky these days to get one scroll on a mobile phone, perhaps two. If you don’t communicate the core point in the first couple of sentences, the message is lost, because no one gets that far. Sounds pessimistic I know.

This concept of having only one scroll’s worth of attention is the direct digital descendant of the newspaper industry’s term: “Above/below the fold”.

The term originated with broadsheet newspapers, which were physically folded in half for display. The “fold” was the physical crease in the middle of the page. The top half, or “above the fold,” was the prime real estate reserved for the most sensational headlines, captivating images, and lead stories—the content designed to grab a passer-by’s attention and compel them to buy the paper. Anything placed on the lower half, or “below the fold,” was considered less critical and was at risk of being ignored.

On a computer screen or mobile phone, the “fold” is the line at the bottom of the screen. “Above the fold” is the content you see immediately when a page loads, and “below the fold” is the content you must scroll down to view.

A good example of this is the email header. I’ve taken to front-loading crucial details in the email subject or the very first line of the body—things like the time, date, venue, and subject matter of a meeting. Yet, I still inevitably receive replies asking: “When is it on? What’s it about?” IT’S IN THE FIRST FREAKING SENTENCE!!!

I’ve also noticed a significant increase in the sheer lack of acknowledgement. I’ve sent emails for both work and personal projects and received no reply at all, not even a delayed one. I don’t mean a detailed response, but simply an acknowledgement of receipt. This has happened quite a bit lately.

This effort/attention mismatch was brought into sharp focus when I was asked to review and make recommendations about a significant work project. I dedicated a large amount of time to this project, but when I handed in my final, detailed review, I knew immediately from the look on the requestor’s face that he never actually read it. He’s gone now.

When a platform like Microsoft Office offers a simple reaction tool (like a little ‘:-)?’ emoji), a basic one-line reply would be far more helpful: “Thanks for the information, I’ll look into it,” or “No, I can’t do that.” The silence suggests a reluctance to commit to anything, which is possibly a separate issue altogether.

This new dynamic stands in stark contrast to the way we learned to communicate formally. I was thinking the other day about learning to write letters as a child and mastering the difference between when to sign off with ‘Yours faithfully’ versus ‘Yours sincerely.’ We learned these conventions, but the urgency and addictive nature of modern connectivity have rendered them effectively obsolete.

To combat this, I now adopt a ‘scan-first’ approach. I write key information in bold text within the email body to make it immediately obvious and easy to scan. Ultimately, though, all I’m really looking for is a quick acknowledgement of receipt to confirm the message has landed, and read.

I contrast, I’ve taken to listening to longer podcasts, and people are bringing long-form TV shows. Maybe we’re entering a post-reading era?

As I approach my 60th birthday, have I simply become a grumpy old man?