For as long as I can remember, communication had built-in closure. A verbal acknowledgment. A letter answered. A phone call returned. And every face-to-face comment earned, at minimum, a nod. There was an endpoint—a signal that the message had been received and the communication loop was complete.
Today we sent a quick text or a short email because its expedient. But casual or not, for adults, and I use the term adults purposefully, it’s a social contract because we’re not just transmitting information—we’re initiating a small agreement: I’ve reached out; please acknowledge. That expectation isn’t written anywhere, but it’s understood
When an adult doesn’t respond to an email or a text that loop is left open, and silence in response to a message doesn’t just delay information—it creates doubt. Did she get it? Is he ignoring me? Did I say something to offend? And a mind left without answers always fills in the blanks, and rarely does it fill them in with positive affirmation.
And that’s the real issue – uncertainty. Electronic communication strips away the cues that once anchored human interaction. There’s no eye contact, no tone of voice, no immediate acknowledgment. Nothing to confirm that what was sent was actually received, understood, or even noticed. The message just hangs there in the ether.
As a result, the brain keeps the file open – and that can be exhausting. It’s also frustrating. On the surface, it’s just an unanswered text. But underneath, it’s a breakdown in something more fundamental – the expectation of closure.
Adult communication follows a simple structure: message sent, message received, message confirmed. But without confirmation, there is no certainty; and without certainty, ambiguities emerge. When messages go unanswered, receipt can’t be confirmed, even worse, we can’t confirm intent and that undermines confidence.
I tell people all the time, “I don’t trust electronic communication.” But every time I say that it seems that someone always responds with, “Hey, I get 100 emails a day—how am I supposed to respond to all of them?” That’s a fair point. But it doesn’t change the principle—it reinforces it.
In every environment where communication matters, high volume is exactly why acknowledgment becomes more important, not less. No one requires a full response to everything. But a quick “got it,” “received,” or a thumbs up meme takes only a second, but it does something critical, it closes the loop. Volume explains the dilemma, but it doesn’t excuse abandoning common courtesy.
I don’t expect every meme or joke I send to be answered, but I expect my message to be looked at. And when someone doesn’t respond to a message it sends a message… you’re not a priority… I’ll respond on my terms, not yours, and it feels insulting. Of course, life has its exigencies, people have emergencies, they travel, they’re under the weather, etc. But c’mon, how frequently is that the case? It’s certainly not every day, and why does that seem to happen only in specific instances and with specific people?
Modern life has normalized what might be called asynchronous convenience, i.e., “I’ll respond when it suits me.” Yes, people are managing dozens—sometimes hundreds—of incoming messages. And many texts and emails are treated as non-urgent, something to be handled when time allows. But “I’ll get to it later,” has a way of becoming never.
And in that gap—between intention and action—the unwritten social contract begins to dissolve. The short “LMK” (let me know) is more than an acronym. It’s an attempt at closure. A way of reintroducing confirmation in the communication loop.
And like so many other shifts in modern culture, the cost isn’t immediately obvious. But it will reveal itself – small irritations, lingering doubts, and a sense that something is incomplete and we lose the simple act of acknowledgment.
In the end, people aren’t always demanding instant response. Most of us just want assurance that the message was received and that we mattered – one hundred emails a day doesn’t change that, it only makes it more important.