Why I’m Picking Up the Phone Again
In a world of endless texts and rising AI, I’m realizing human voices still matter most.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the phone—not the glowing rectangle in my hand, but the actual act of making a call. Of hearing a voice. Of using my own.
Live phone conversations seem to be a thing of the past, and I include myself in this shift away from calls.
I text. I email. I leave voice memos. But I rarely dial. And when I do, it’s often after agonizing over whether a call might feel intrusive or awkward—or, worse, drag on past the point of comfort.
Digital communication feels productive. Efficient. Safe. But as we tiptoe toward a world increasingly shaped by AI, I’m growing more concerned that we’re forgetting how to truly connect.
It reminds me of cursive writing—something I was taught in school but my own kids weren’t. Their schools, under pressure to meet federal benchmarks, dropped cursive in favor of standardized test prep. Sure, optional handwriting packets came home for optics, but the message was clear: it was no longer a priority.
At the time, I found it disappointing, but I didn’t understand the full loss until I was deep in the archives researching my first book, surrounded by boxes of handwritten letters—century-old notes, journals, speeches. These were treasures. Artifacts. Evidence of thought and care.
But what happens when we can no longer read that evidence?
One of my sons recently admitted he couldn’t decipher the handwritten note from his grandmother in his birthday card. Not because of her penmanship—but because he’d never been taught to read cursive.
If we don’t preserve certain forms of communication, we lose access not just to information—but to each other.
I believe the same is now true of voice.
When Texts Don’t Cut It
Recently, I received a text from someone who can’t come to my wedding. They described a series of hardships and said they needed to stay “stress-free and frugal.”
The message was thoughtful… but also vague. Is our wedding the stressor? What kind of stress? Can we do anything to help?
The text, while efficient, left me with more questions than answers.
So, I called this person —FaceTimed, actually—hoping to offer support.
However, the call was declined.
Twice.
“I’m on a call,” the person texted later. Then: silence.
The whole exchange left me feeling even more distanced than before. That’s the thing about texts: they can’t always hold the weight we want them to carry, and in this case, a text felt, well, shitty for all parties involved. I don’t blame this person for texting, since it was no doubt easier for them to convey that tough message digitally. Still, considering the subject matter, I’d have loved to connect live.
I’m just as guilty of texting instead of calling, and sometimes, it just makes sense to text. I have a relative who never answers the phone, never responds to outreach unless they need something. I used to call them, but now, I just text (and rarely, if ever, hear back). Our connection feels like scaffolding: the shape is there, but it’s hollow. Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop texting altogether, but I love this relative dearly. And, aside from writing a letter (which I’m considering doing), texting feels like the only form of communication we I have left…
But a Call Can Still Change Everything
My fiancé, Eric, taught me the art of calling. He frequently picks up the phone to make a call, to check in with a quick hello (or pun). Hearing his voice is always so grounding. I can always hear the smile in his words, or if he’s tired, or if he’s working through something. He can always sense the worry in my voice, or the excitement I feel about a subject, or if I’m juggling too many things.
And then there’s the guy who recently fixed our fence. I emailed him few days ago with a photo of a split post:
“Sorry, but this newly installed post is already split. Hope you can take a look and replace asap…” I sent the short note feeling a bit frustrated.
The next morning—before 8am—he called. I didn’t answer, but he left a voicemail, apologizing and promising to replace the post right away.
That simple gesture—and his voice—completely shifted my mood. The phone call gave the situation weight. Humanity. Respect. His phone call disarmed me, reminding me the guy is a decent human being running a business that occasionally runs into a defective product. The phone call was a balm.
What the Research Says
It’s hardly a surprise that phone calls have declined, and here are just some reasons why:
A study from the University of Texas and University of Chicago found that people expect phone calls to feel awkward—but those who made them actually felt more connected than those who sent emails or texts. And the calls took about the same amount of time.
Another study published in PNAS showed that hearing a loved one’s voice—whether in person or by phone—can trigger the release of oxytocin, the bonding hormone. Text-based communication? Not so much.
A 2022 study found that people who spent more time texting during the day experienced more stress and negative emotion, while those who made phone calls experienced less.
And this breakdown from Verywell Mind lists specific types of conversations (conflict, emotion, apologies) that shouldn’t be handled via text at all.
So, why don’t we call?
I recently ran a highly informal poll on Threads. “Do you prefer digital communication over phone calls? Why or why not?” Here’s what some people had to say:
“I avoid calls. I have my mom make calls for me, unless it's urgent. I much prefer digital communication. I can take my time getting my thoughts together, and there's a paper trail so there's no confusion about what was said.”
“Texts are less intrusive. A ringing phone screams "acknowledge me! Answer me" while a text can be read when convenient.”
“I’m much more articulate with the written word, it gives me time to think about what I really want to say, without nervousness or self-consciousness coming across. I'm an introvert, as you can probably guess!”
“100% digital. At this point in society it borders on rude for you to expect me to stop what I’m doing to hear what your dog/kid/spouse did. There are exceptions but for most communication, text me.”
“As a chronically ill person with cognitive issues that vary by the day, written communication is just far easier. I can think through what I want to say and I don't have to worry about forgetting any details of the replies if everything is written.”
“I'm texting, emailing, or DMing because of the convenience. When I do talk on the phone with my parents, we schedule the time, text to confirm "ready" and then speak for 1+ hour to catch up. Business things (appointments) are better as text/email because I can pull the data directly into my calendar and reference the confirmation.As a professor, my students tend to Teams chat me questions or schedule a video call for office hours. We can record it so they reference our discussion later. Teams is the primary direct message, meeting, and group manager from Microsoft. Think Slack or Discord but within the Office 365 ecosystem. My university is a Microsoft powered organization, so all my students are connected as contacts. It also integrates into our learning management system (LMS) for students to access from the course navigation.The mobile app is better designed to read and respond (compared to Outlook), so I can get back to students more quickly.”
“Digit communication always. I'll make a phone call when I absolutely have to, but I can communicate much better in writing than by speaking. It's also much more convenient, as more often than not the person can't answer the call. When you text, the recipient gets back to you at their convenience. If, when I have no choice but to call, I'm diverted to voicemail, I hang up. In many circumstances it's useful to have a paper trail, or for both of you to refer back to what was said.”
“I have to know to expect a phone call to take a phone call... the same, I have to know what my focus is in going to a place... but in the end, I do prefer in person connections when possible, while realizing that isn't always possible.”
“I prefer either in person or digital that is concise i.e. text, email. I don't like wasting time and phone call is only to catch up with my friend long distance. But for work, definitely digital because it's documented. I have people not admitting what they are saying and i have to go through recordings, with digital, i just command find.”
All true. I’ve avoided calls for many of the same reasons. Calls require social effort: winding down, exchanging niceties, enduring the occasional awkward silence or long goodbye.
But efficiency isn’t always the same as intimacy.
In my mini-poll, only ONE person wrote of the virtues of live calls:
“So I'm on the other side, probably age related but I talk on the phone daily for work and with family, then also huge proponent of using video calls for team meetings. I text my kids because they will never answer a phone call, but if they would I'd much prefer to talk with them. Sound matters.”
As a parent of three adult chilren, I couldn’t agree with that last comment more.
My View as a Memoir Coach
I have a unique perspective here. As a memoir coach, I spend my days in intimate conversations—mostly face-to-face on Zoom—with people who actively want to express themselves. To heal. To feel seen.
It’s vulnerable work, and yes, it’s exhausting at times. I build in breaks. I make sure the lighting’s right, my background is clean, my notes are in view, my hair is combed. I silence devices. I make eye contact while conveying empathy and expertise.
And still, even though I’m far more at ease while writing than holding a conversation, I’d choose these real-time exchanges over digital correspondence any day. My clients—many of whom I’ve never met in person—often know me more intimately than my extended family.
We show up for each other. We witness. We listen. We speak. There’s no shortcut for that.
AI may change how I do my job someday—but it will never, ever replace the human voices that fill those sessions. And it won’t replace mine.
When Calls Go Wrong
I should say: not every phone call brings healing.
I once suggested FaceTiming a family member after a tense texting exchange. She answered the video call swigging a beer, and I confess that I immediately judged her. We both brought defensiveness to the call and, not surprisingly, the conversation escalated. She said something that crossed a line, and I hung up—a rarity for me.
That moment still stings. But I also wonder: had we called each other earlier—before resentment and misinterpretation took over—might we have found more compassion?
By the time we finally spoke, our stories had become so far apart, it was like we were speaking different languages.
The Real Danger of Not Calling
We’re in a moment where AI can mimic our tone, draft our emails, and even generate a “nice” message on our behalf. And sure, I use it too. Heck, I used AI to help me organize my thoughts for this newsletter.
But that’s exactly why I’m more committed than ever to being human—messy, awkward, stammering, warm, real, flawed.
A phone call, however brief, is a reminder: I’m here. I’m listening. I care.
So I’m trying to pick up the phone again—not always, but more often. When it matters. When someone’s voice is the only thing that can carry the weight of what needs to be said.
What about you?
Have you been avoiding a call that might matter more than a text?
When’s the last time someone’s voice made all the difference?
Let me know in the comments—or better yet, call someone today. Don’t worry if it’s awkward. That’s part of what makes it real.
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I know phone calls should be better, but as a person who has always been highly sensitive, an introvert, and, for the better part of my life, struggling with chronic health issues, phone calls just demand too much energy. I make them occasionally to people I really want to stay in touch with, but I have to really plan for them, clearing out my schedule and reserving energy. Even then, if I'm having a bad day, I'll cancel. It's frustrating and isolating, but it is what it is. I'm thankful for the digital option, otherwise the isolation would be much worse.
Fabulous inquiry Christine. And the research you conducted and shared is compelling! I prefer zoom or in person. Texts are good for efficiency or fun (my family has a Warner Palooza text chain that is full of sweetness and hilarity and keeps us all connected). But I’ll admit, phone calls are not my fav. Partially because living rural we get a lot of dropped calls, but also because I’m really audio/visual with a preference for visual; only audio and I can get anxious and sometimes a bit scattered.