Likely Normal

In the dystopian landscape of virtual meetings, humanity has fractured into two distinct species.  I call them the Mute Enlightened and the Mute Oblivious. The former have elevated the mute button to a spiritual practice, conducting entire shadow lives off-camera—belting 90s power ballads during budget reviews, conducting dramatic reenactments of their coworker’s terrible ideas using action figures, and perfecting the art of the silent scream when someone says “let’s circle back.” Their existence is one of beautiful hypocrisy, typing “great point!” in the chat while mouthing “what fresh torture is this?” to their pet.

Then there are their opposites—the Mute Oblivious. These techno-illiterate souls will blame cosmic radiation, their ISP, and possibly witchcraft for their audio issues before noticing the glowing red slash through their microphone icon. Watching them troubleshoot is like observing a caveman discover fire—they’ll unplug every USB device, reboot their router, and tinker with their printer for some reason before their finger finally hovers over the mute button with dawning horror. The tragic irony? Their inevitable “Oh, I was muted?!” exclamation is always delivered crystal clear—because they’ve finally unmuted at full volume to announce their muteness to the entire org chart.

The tension between these groups creates Zoom’s greatest comedy. There’s the Mute Enlightened’s futile pantomime—wild arm gestures and exaggerated mouthing of “Unmute” that would put a Broadway understudy to shame. There’s the Oblivious’ accidental confessional moments, where their private rant about the CEO’s new initiative broadcasts to the very people who suggested it. And let’s not forget the hybrid mutants—people who think they’re muted but aren’t, treating the entire company to their snack crunching, keyboard clacking, and spontaneous karaoke of All Star by Smash Mouth.

At the heart of this digital divide lies an existential question: If someone unmutes themselves in a forest of corporate jargon, and no one is left on the call to hear it, does it make a sound? The answer, of course, is yes—it makes the sound of 37 people simultaneously hitting Leave Meeting.