你的收件箱，是0未讀，還是5,000未讀？

By Joe Pinsker

For some， its a spider. For others， its an unexpected run-in with an ex. But for me， discomfort is a dot with a number in it： 1，328 unread-message notifications？ I just cant fathom1 how anyone lives like that.

How is it that some people remain calm as unread messages trickle into their inboxes and then roost there unattended， while others cant sit still knowing that there are bolded-black emails and red-dotted Slack messages？2 I may operate toward the extreme end of compulsive notification-eliminators， but surveys suggest Im not alone： One 2012 study found that 70 percent of work emails were attended to within six seconds of their arrival.

This has led me to a theory that there are two types of emailers in the world： Those who can comfortably ignore unread notifications， and those who feel the need to take action immediately.

So what puts people in one camp or the other？ Gloria Mark， a professor of informatics at University of California，has explored just this sort of question. A few years ago， she ran a study in which office workers were cut off from using email for one workweek and were equipped with heart-rate monitors； on average， going cold turkey3 significantly reduced their stress levels. （One intriguing recommendation that came out of the study was for companies to experiment with setting up systems in which less-urgent emails were exchanged in batches4： in the morning， around lunchtime， and in the evening.）

After interviewing several people about their relationship with email， Mark has noticed that， for some people， email is an extension of autonomy5—its about having control. One subject， she said， told her， “I let the sound of the bell and the popups6 rule my life.” Compulsively checking email or compulsively clearing out queues of unread emails， then， can be a form of regaining some of that control. Mark said， “So I might refine your theory to say that those who feel compelled to check email may be more susceptible to feeling a loss of control [and] in missing out on information.”

When someone drops everything just to get an unread count back to zero， productivity might be taking a hit7. “It takes people on average about 25 minutes to reorient back to a task when they get interrupted，” she says. Yes， that includes even brief interruptions， like dashing off8 a quick response to an email， and it often takes so long to get back on task because the project you start doing after handling an email often isnt the same as the one you were already doing. （These interruptions are so integral to modern workflow， Mark says， that when people lack external interruptions， such as a co-worker striking up9 a conversation， they voluntarily interrupt themselves—sometimes by checking email.）

I happen to like Marks theory， but I also think theres another urge that fuels the nagging feeling that comes with unread messages： Immediately reading and archiving incoming emails is just like checking a box on a to-do list and clearing out unread stories in an RSS feed.10 In other words， the appeal of these behaviors lies in the illusion of progress that they foster. Few tasks have a sense of conclusion as neat and immediate as archiving or deleting an email. For that reason， neurotically tidy people like me cant help but triage emails the moment they arrive.11

There are， of course， other lenses through which to view these opposing email sensibilities. Jamie Madigan， a psychologist who writes about video games， thinks the arrival of a notification might be similar to the accrual of virtual loot.12 Email， in other words， might not be just a task， but a game.“Designers of apps for the Web， phones， and other devices figured this out early on，” he says. “In the case of our phones，we see， hear， or feel a notification alert show up， we open the app， and we are rewarded with something we like： a message from a friend， a like， or whatever.” He guesses that people who dont mind notification pileups dont perceive as much of a reward from getting retweets or likes.

Ian Bogost， a professor of interactive computing at the Georgia Institute of Technology （and an Atlantic contributing editor）， offers a similar theory. “What if actually there are people who care about technology as a part of their identity， and people who dont？” He stressed that his potential explanation was untested， but I do think his point about selfidentity might account for a portion of the difference.

Still， the chasm13 between these groups seems too wide to be just about technology. The icky feeling I get when I catch a glimpse of someones inbox junkyard of unread emails is the same one I get when I see the pile of magazines I have yet to read， or when I know theres an errand that needs running—the itch isnt constrained to technology.14 My email theory is really just a corollary of another， more expansive pop philosophy： Muppet Theory， proposed by Dahlia Lithwick， a writer at Slate.15 Under Lithwicks classification， everyone is either a Chaos Muppet （“out-of-control， emotional， volatile”） or an Order Muppet （“neurotic， highly-regimented， averse to surprises”）.16 Lithwicks theory plays nicely with Gloria Marks， and I tend to think that—hold on， an email just came in and if you give me one sec， I just need to respond to it.

有的人最害怕蜘蛛，有的人最害怕撞見前任。而我最害怕的是一個小點和上面的數字：1，328條未讀信息？我簡直不能理解怎么會有人能夠忍受。

當未讀信息溜進收件箱時，為什么有人就能安如泰山，將之晾在那里不管，有人卻一看到有黑色加粗的郵件和點了紅點的工作消息就坐不住呢？我屬于那種強迫癥似的通知終結者，調查顯示我這樣的人還不少：2012年的一項研究發現，70%的工作郵件都在收到后六秒內就被處理了。

我由此得出一個結論：這個世界上收郵件的有兩類人，一類可以完全無視未讀消息，一類則非要趕緊點開不可。

那么，是什么因素決定了你在哪一陣營呢？加利福尼亞大學信息學教授格洛麗亞·馬克對這個問題進行了研究。幾年前，她做了一個實驗，讓一群坐辦公室的人連續五天都不用郵件，然后測他們的心率。平均來看，這種突然切斷郵件的做法可以顯著降低他們的焦慮程度。（由此帶來的一個有趣的建議是，公司可以嘗試建立一種機制，把不太緊急的郵件分散在早上、午間和晚上發送。）

在問了幾個人他們和電子郵件的關系之后，馬克注意到，有些人把電子郵件看作是自主權的延伸，也就是說一定要由自己來掌控。她說，一名受訪者告訴她：“我讓消息提示音和彈出窗口來主宰我的生活。”那么，強迫癥似的查看郵件或者點開一溜未讀郵件就成了重獲控制權的一種方法。馬克說：“我或許可以這么說，那些非查看郵件不可的人，在漏看信息時更容易感到失去控制。”

如果一個人拋下手頭的所有事，只為了讓未讀郵件清零，工作效率肯定會受到影響。馬克說，“在受到打擾后，人們平均要花25分鐘才能回到之前的工作中去。”對，即便是短暫的打斷也不例外，比如，哪怕只是迅速回復一封郵件，回復完之后也很難回到之前的工作，因為你通常會換到另一項工作上去。（馬克說，這種打斷已經成為現代工作節奏的一部分了，就算沒有外部的干擾——比如同事突然發起聊天，人們也會自己停下手頭的工作——比如查看一下郵件。）

我挺喜歡馬克的理論，不過我想未讀郵件讓人不爽可能還有其他的原因：即刻閱讀郵件并把它歸檔，就像是給待辦事項打鉤或者是清空訂閱的推送信息一樣。換句話說，這種行為之所以誘人，是因為它給人一種一切都在進展之中的假象。很少有工作能像歸檔、刪除一封郵件這樣，給人一種干凈利落的結束感。因此，像我這樣有潔癖的人簡直忍不住在郵件到來的那一刻就把它們都處理掉。

當然，也可以從其他的角度來看這兩種截然相反的郵件處理習慣。出版過電子游戲方面著作的心理學家杰米·馬迪根認為，郵件通知的到來有點類似虛擬戰利品的積累。也就是說，郵件不僅僅是一項工作，也可能是一場游戲。“不管是網上的，手機上的，還是其他設備上的應用設計商，早就想到了這一點，”他說，“在我們的手機上，我們看見、聽見，或者感覺到一個通知出現了，打開那個應用，然后就會獲得一些我們喜歡的獎勵：比如朋友的一條信息、一個贊、或者這之類的。”他猜測不介意通知越堆越多的人，可能是因為不把被轉發或者被點贊當作什么了不起的事。

伊恩·博格斯特是佐治亞理工學院的交互計算教授，也是《大西洋月刊》的特約編輯，他提出了一個相似的觀點。“會不會有的人把科技當作他們身份的一部分，而有的人則不然呢？”他強調說他的這個想法未經過驗證，但是我的確認為他關于身份的觀點可以在一定程度上解釋這種差異的存在。

當然，這兩類人之間的差別之大，不是區區技術就能解釋的。我看到別人有一堆未讀郵件時，那種如鯁在喉的感覺就仿佛我還有一大摞的雜志沒有讀，或者我還有一樁跑腿的活還沒有干——那種心里癢癢的感覺可不僅僅是技術層面的。我的郵件理論是直接從一個適用性更廣的流行理論中得出來的，即戴利亞·里思維科，Slate雜志的一個作家，提出的木偶理論。里思維科把所有人都分為兩類，一類是混亂木偶——“不受控制，情緒化，喜怒無常”，一類是秩序木偶——“神經質，死守規矩，討厭驚喜”。里思維科的理論跟格洛麗亞·馬克的說法正好吻合，我覺得吧——等等，我收到了一封郵件，給我一小會兒，我先回復了再說。

1. fathom： 弄清，理解。

2. trickle： 滴，緩慢而零星地進入；roost： 棲息；Slack： 國外的一款辦公軟件。

3. cold turkey： 突然戒斷。

4. batch： 一組，一批。

5. autonomy： 自治，自主。

6. popup： 彈出窗口。

7. take a hit： 受到打擊，受到影響。

8. dash off： 一氣寫成，快速寫完。

9. strike up： 開始（交談）。

10. nagging： 令人心煩不已的，糾纏不休的；archive： 把……歸檔，存檔；RSS feed： 訂閱信息，RSS即Really Simple Syndication，指簡易信息聚合。

11. neurotically： 神經質地，神經過敏地；triage： 情況鑒別分類（以確定哪些問題最為嚴重須優先處理）。

12. accrual： 積累，增加；loot： 戰利品。

13. chasm： 深刻分歧，顯著差別。

14. icky： 令人不快的；junkyard： 廢品場；errand：差事。

15. corollary： 必然結果，直接的結果；muppet： 提線木偶；Slate： 1996年創辦于美國的網絡雜志，擅長政治評論、離奇新聞和藝術特寫。

16. volatile： 不穩定的，易怒的；regimented： 嚴格控制的，死板的。