Most freelancers open with a discovery call. Thirty minutes on Zoom, maybe an hour. You describe what you need, they nod, they ask questions they could have asked over email, and at the end everyone agrees to “follow up with next steps.”
I skip that part.
Not because I’m antisocial, but because a written answer is better for both of us.
Writing forces clarity
When you write down what you need, you think about it first. Not in a “homework assignment” way – just the natural process of putting something into words. You end up being clearer about what you actually want than you would be talking through it live. And yes, transcript apps exist now. But a perfect recording of a vague conversation is still a vague conversation. Writing just makes you more precise.
When I write back, same thing. I can check something, look at your site, test a scenario, and then give you an answer I’ve actually verified. On a call, someone asks “can we add a membership system to this?” and the developer says “yeah, probably” because they’re thinking on the spot. In writing, I can look at your setup, check what your hosting can handle, and tell you exactly what’s involved before you commit to anything.
Even something as simple as “can we add a button to the homepage?” isn’t just a button. Where does it go? Does it link to a PDF or a page? Does a second button on that section create visual clutter on mobile? On a call, you just say “sure.” In an email, you think it through and come back with the right questions before anyone wastes time building the wrong thing.
What gets lost on calls
There’s a reason most miscommunication on projects happens verbally. Someone says “I want it to look cleaner.” The developer nods. Everyone leaves the call with a different picture in their head. A week later, the revision doesn’t match what the client meant, and nobody has a record of what was actually agreed.
I’ve been on the other side of this. Early in my career I did calls because that’s what everyone did. I’d spend an hour talking through a project, then spend another hour writing up what we discussed so I had something to work from. At some point I realized – why not just start with the written version and skip the first hour?
Async doesn’t mean slow
Some people think async means slow. It doesn’t. I usually reply within a day or two. For urgent things, same day. The difference isn’t speed, it’s clarity. A five-minute email that says exactly what’s needed replaces a thirty-minute call that circles around it.
There’s also the scheduling problem. My clients are spread across time zones. Some are in the UK, some in Germany, some elsewhere in Europe. Finding a slot that works for everyone, factoring in the back-and-forth of calendar links and rescheduling – that’s overhead that doesn’t need to exist. An email works at 9am or 11pm. Whoever reads it, reads it when they can.
When a call makes sense
I know this isn’t for everyone. Some people genuinely process better by talking. Some projects are complex enough that a conversation saves time. I’m not rigid about it – if a call is the right tool for a specific situation, I’ll do one. It just shouldn’t be the default.
The default should be whatever gets us to the clearest answer with the least back-and-forth. For the kind of work I do – scoping projects, giving estimates, reporting progress, making decisions – that’s writing.
I’ve been working this way for years now. The projects run smoother, the misunderstandings are rarer, and neither of us has to block out time in our day to sit in front of a camera and make small talk before getting to the point.