“You Didn’t Send Me a Reminder!”—The Double-Edged Sword of Email

“You didn’t send me a reminder!” That was the excuse I once heard for missing a deadline, and honestly, it didn’t feel all that surprising. Emails have become the default tool for coordinating tasks in large organizations, yet their effectiveness often hinges on a culture of reminders and follow-ups. It’s so deeply ingrained that people now expect reminders as part of the process—an unwritten rule of workplace communication.

Consider this all-too-familiar scenario: you need 15 people in different time zones to complete a task that takes just two hours of effort. To give them ample time, you generously allow four weeks. Surely, this should be enough time, right?

You start strong with an email laying out every detail of the task, step by step. You even arrange a 30-minute call to walk them through it. If you’re lucky, half the attendees show up. You proceed to send weekly reminders, each one complete with a countdown graphic to the deadline. You’d think this would be foolproof.

But when the deadline arrives, what happens? Half the group still hasn’t delivered. At this point, you’re forced to escalate. Out come more reminders, more urgent emails, more “friendly nudges” to prod people into action. Slowly, painfully, you see a trickle of progress. The cycle repeats until the task is finally done—late and with twice the effort it should have taken.

Here’s the crux of the issue: the people you’re relying on to complete this task? They already have a full-time job. And that full-time job doesn’t just mean their core responsibilities—it means being constantly pulled in every direction by a never-ending parade of initiatives, requests, and projects. Mandatory training sessions, client demands, reviewing cost estimates, year-end evaluations, process optimization efforts, testing the latest AI tool… the list goes on.

Your task? It’s just one more item on their already overloaded to-do list. 

And here’s the kicker—they didn’t consent to it.

It’s not so different from when Microsoft sends you that oh-so-helpful notification commanding you to install an update and reboot your computer. You didn’t ask for it, but there it is, disrupting your workflow. First, the polite reminders. Then, the persistent nudges. Finally, when you keep ignoring it, they just shut down your computer—probably at the most inconvenient moment, like in the middle of a video call. 

Consent is a hot topic these days. We’re all familiar with those little checkboxes asking for permission to receive promotional emails—thank you, GDPR. But what about consent within companies? In workplaces built on the ideal of horizontal collaboration, where cross-functional teams are expected to work seamlessly on projects, what does consent even look like?

Let’s be honest: there’s no checkbox for agreeing to the endless stream of emails that pile extra tasks onto your already overflowing to-do list. Some might argue that the consent lies in your employment contract. Sure, you signed on to contribute to your organization’s goals—but does that really mean anyone at your company can send you an email and effectively hand you a new responsibility? Especially when that responsibility feels less like a strategic initiative and more like a hot potato being passed around?

Email enables this dynamic far too easily. There’s no friction, no formal process—just a quick click of “Send,” and suddenly, your workload has grown. It’s the digital equivalent of being voluntold for something, without ever being asked. And that lack of explicit consent is a recipe for frustration, inefficiency, and burnout.

Here’s the thing: we love emails.

And for good reason. Email is incredibly efficient for sharing information and documents—it’s like the Swiss Army knife of workplace communication. It keeps a clear record of interactions and agreements, which is invaluable for accountability and tracking progress. Even better, it allows for asynchronous coordination, an absolute lifesaver when working across multiple time zones.

There’s also something deeply satisfying about crafting an email. It gives us time to think, to carefully edit and refine our words. That sense of control over how we present ourselves is reassuring, especially in professional settings.

These benefits are why email isn’t going anywhere. It’s too versatile, too entrenched in our workflows. But as much as we rely on it, email also brings its own set of problems—ones we can’t ignore.

So, emails are a paradox. On one hand, they’re notoriously ineffective for getting things done, especially when it comes to driving action across teams. On the other, we can’t imagine working without them—they’re efficient, flexible, and give us control over how we communicate.

But maybe the problem isn’t email itself. Maybe it’s not about the tool at all. Instead, the real issue might lie in the dynamics between the sender and the recipient. How we perceive the sender—their role, their authority, their relationship to us—can drastically impact how we respond to their emails. Could it be that our frustrations with email are just a symptom of deeper issues in workplace communication and collaboration?

It’s clear: the further a task comes from our regular work circle, the more reluctant we are to take it on. This reluctance isn’t just about the task itself—it’s about relationships. Trust, familiarity, and mutual understanding play a huge role in how we prioritize and act on requests.

Ultimately, tackling the chaos of email is about fostering a culture of collaboration and breaking down silos. It’s about creating an environment where cross-functional teamwork feels natural, not like an intrusion. And in an era of remote work, where virtual interactions dominate, there’s no substitute for the connection built through in-person relationships.

Could the solution to email chaos be the end of remote work? Perhaps it’s time to revisit travel and entertainment budgets, investing in more opportunities for face-to-face, high-quality interactions. After all, building relationships is the foundation for real collaboration—and that’s something no email can replicate.