The pedant, the messy and the in-between
What is your browser tab usage type?
We consume content and run applications on it. We use it to do the big and small things in our lives. It’s both the guardian of our personal secrets and the showcase for our public image. A place for our things to do and a source of excitement. A precise record of every twist and turn of our digital lives. The web browser is probably the most used application in everyone’s life. It’s so commonplace and natural that you don’t even notice it. And it is interesting because it is so obvious.
The following short piece of writing was inspired by my personal curiosity and bias on the subject. It is not my intention to explore the subject with scientific rigour, but merely to make a first impression. Sure, with some research I could have found answers to many questions. Instead, I simply went after it.
Something as universal as the internet browser hides a multitude of usage patterns and habits.
It only took one post on social media to make me realise that I am not alone. The way I use the browser is neither exceptional nor exclusive. Many of the roughly five dozen respondents to my call were just as sloppy as I was. Others, however, are keeping a pedantic tidy order between browser tabs as part of a well-thought-out process. And there were others who were more indulgent on their smartphones than on the bigger screen. Let’s see the basic types of users.
The pedant
I have included here those who leave fewer than ten tabs open in their browser. They are the ones who open a new tab in their browser window with a specific purpose in mind, so they know exactly how long it makes sense to leave it open and when to close it. Whichever tab is still open is waiting for further action. The number of open tabs is limited, their order reflects their priority, and their proximity shows their relevance. Their further processing also follows a precise method. They know when to forward the link, save the content of the tab for later in the bookmarks or favourites. Here, too, of course, the order of titles and categories helps you find your way around. No wonder they can close a tab they no longer need without hesitation.
For me, this behaviour is admirable and enviable, but also frustrating, because it reminds me of my own sloppiness. That is why I found it difficult to remain objective and not give way to prurient self-justification when I began to question the reasons behind the behaviour.
Because it’s easy to think that the fear of distraction is not really self-discipline, but the lack of it. That they stick to focused work because they see no value in creative divergence. That they crave efficiency in both their own work and the computing capacity used to do it because they believe that only an investment with a direct and immediate return can be profitable.
I must also admit that I am genuinely envious of their getting-shit-done attitude. There are no loose ends. They finish what they started. Or they can calmly let it go if that seems reasonable.
And then the picture became clearer. It turns out that when they use browsers for work, they tend to be more disciplined and organised, while when they’re out and about, or on their mobile phones, some are more indulgent and scattered. There were some who were so focused on everything. They only run the desktop apps they actually work with. For them, it’s not a one-off, ashen attempt to weed and organise their email accounts and files. They prefer a native application over a web-based one because it’s easier to close after work.
The messy
As familiar as I thought this type was, it was surprising that we are not all the same either. Some people are overwhelmed by all those open browser tabs, others are left cold. Still, others think they have a way of mastering the chaos.
I’m the kind of scatterbrain who is distressed by my own perceived messiness. I experience it as a kind of imperfection, a weakness of character. So many unfinished tasks and thoughts, wasted time. Or even when I am overwhelmed by the chaos and can no longer face it. I look at the open browser tabs as an enemy to be overcome. And if I can’t beat it, I look for an escape route instead of a solution. I open another browser window so that the weeds of my internet garden can once again run rampant.
Obviously, like all human frailties, an industry has been created for this. OneTab, TabSuspender, search for opened tabs, reload all opened windows when reopening the browser …
In vain, behind all the pretence solutions, there are still nagging questions: what do I actually have to lose with a closed browser tab, when I can always search my browsing history? Why can’t I accept that endless interesting content and tasks to be done are incompatible with my finite time and attention? Where does the overwhelm of a sea of open browser tabs tip over into the seeming resignation of closing those tabs?
For example, by not getting excited about it. Or see it as a kind of rebellion, a challenge. Proudly brag about the hundreds of browser tabs left open, along with the thousands of unread emails. They are tattoos and graffiti of digital anarchism. Of course, the browser tab agonists are not all rebels. Some of them are more practical-minded, who take the trouble to close open browser tabs in quieter times. They find it easier to leave a page open than to reopen it. They let go easily of content that expires quickly, such as news. For them, a new day is a new browser, so they close the day without a fuss, and with it their browser with all its tabs left open. What they couldn’t do that day but might be important, they save to their reading list. And they don’t regret burying content they’ll never return to days later.
And some people can confidently cope with the endless sea of browser tabs. They use different browsers for different purposes. From one browser to the next, they open and run a new window in parallel, with a whole range of tabs. In this way, they limit the tidying up, the management of chaos, to smaller areas. Because their job is like that. They have a lot of projects running in parallel and dragging on. While you’re exploring, one issue leads to another. And the only way to stop this proliferation is to run out of time or attention. Well-structured, managed complexity that only seems chaotic to those who don’t live in it.
The in-between
There were quite a few people who said that they behave differently on mobile than on a desktop browser. It’s less noticeable in the mobile browser, so it’s not a bother if you leave a lot of tabs open. But it also means that in the desktop browser it’s still tidy. Others are better at keeping their phone browser under control precisely because they’re looking at content that can be consumed quickly and closed with a light heart when they’re done. Or it helps them to limit the number of browser tabs they open on their phone because they believe that every tab they close saves precious minutes of their phone’s battery life.
What does my browser usage tell you about me?
I suppose, as in so many things and because of our diversity, the truth here is: “it depends”. It depends on our complex personalities, our upbringing, our attitude to order in general, or even our conformity. What may seem a logical system to one person may seem a compulsion to another. What is manageable complexity to me is chaos to you. For some, the system is a matter of efficiency, for others, it is a matter of letting things lying around dominate the space.
And what about the tech side?
Every single point we open and leave it so to the internet is also a vulnerability risk. This is compounded by the fact that more than one application that looks desktop/native is actually a web application wrapped in such a cloak, run by a mini browser. They are even more vulnerable because of the delay in patching the underlying browser security flaw. This adds to the exposure of already sloppy users.
The other interesting question is the impact of leaving pages open on the performance of the machine. Of course, this is also a question of the operating system, computer configuration, browser and content. It can lead to significant memory, computing power and battery performance losses. The question arises, of course, as to which pages can be closed to recover the most of lost performance. Fortunately, solutions to this already exist in browsers, as well as ways to work our browser under our thumb, whether zero tabs is our way or creative sprawl. We just have to have the patience …
Some questions worth answering
- Are there any “custom browsers” that are specifically designed for work (running web apps, processing any input into the desired output, integrating into a workflow between applications)?
- What kind of users are the people who develop the browsers (precise, disciplined, structured, or scatterbrained, hard-to-decide)? Do they know/take into account the different browser user types when developing? Is it worth developing different browsers anyway?
- Why is there no “proper” interoperability between browsers and other applications (processing web input in a native application; e.g. calendar entry, to-do, chat/email)?
- What would a truly personalised browser look like? Would users want to bother with selection and personalisation?
Is order, orderliness, organisation or randomness, organic chaos, spontaneous order the natural one? Why maintain, manage a system to run your life? - Did the internet bring it about, magnify it, speed it up or did these differences exist anyway?
- Why do many of us feel that by closing a browser tab, we lose sight of its contents forever? Just as we find it hard to delete an unused file from the download folder or an app we never opened from our phone? Why do we want to own our digital things the way we do our physical ones?
- And most importantly: will you close your browser tab after reading this article?
Thank you to everyone who contributed with your opinions and thoughts writing this article. I welcome all comments.
