"Got a sec?" feels free. It is not. The person you asked pays for it, and the bill is larger than the question.
When you tap a coworker for a fast answer, you are not borrowing the ten seconds it takes them to reply. You are borrowing the focus it took them to get where they were, and the time it will take to get back.
The number most people underestimate
Microsoft's workplace research puts the average worker at around 275 interruptions per day, once you count messages, pings, meetings, and taps on the shoulder. That is not 275 questions from one person. It is a steady drip from every direction. Each one seems small. Together they leave little room for the deep, uninterrupted work that most jobs actually require.
So your quick question does not land in an empty inbox. It joins a line.
Why the switch costs more than the answer
Harvard Business Review's research on app switching found that jumping between tools and tasks carries a real cost. Every switch asks the brain to unload one context and load another. The person answering you has to leave the problem they were holding in their head, find the thread you are asking about, give you an answer, and then rebuild the state they were in before you arrived.
The answer might take thirty seconds. The recovery does not. And it is rarely one recovery. If a day is a string of small interruptions, a person never fully arrives anywhere. They spend the day in the shallows, always reloading, never deep enough to solve the hard thing. That is the tax the asker never sees, so it never feels like a cost worth avoiding.
The hidden math of "just one question"
Picture one person who is the go-to for a system. Ten teammates each ask them one quick thing on a normal day. To each of the ten, it was a single, reasonable question. To the one person, it was ten interruptions, ten context switches, and a day chopped into pieces too small to think in.
This is why your most knowledgeable people often feel the least productive. They are not slow. They are the answer desk, and the desk never closes. The more they know, the more they get asked, and the less of their own work they finish. It is a quiet penalty for being useful.
What actually gets paid
- The asker pays seconds. They type a message and move on.
- The person asked pays focus. They lose their place and spend real minutes getting back.
- The team pays twice. The expert's own work slips, and the queue of people waiting on them grows.
None of this shows up on a report. It hides inside "I was busy all day and got nothing done," which is the most common thing your best people quietly feel.
Lowering the bill without going silent
You cannot ban questions. You can make fewer of them land on a live person.
- Ask the record first. Before you ping, check whether the answer already exists in a doc, a channel, or a past thread.
- Batch the small stuff. Hold non-urgent questions and send them together, so one person takes one interruption instead of five.
- Write the answer down once. If you had to ask, the next person will too. A short note in a shared place turns one interruption into zero next time.
- Protect the expert. Give your most-asked people blocks of time where the queue waits and the work gets done.
The real goal
The point is not to make people harder to reach. It is to stop spending your best colleague's focus on questions that did not need a live human at all. Most quick questions have a known answer. Someone already worked it out. The waste is making them work it out again, in person, on demand.
This is the gap StandIn is built for. You write one short brief at the end of your day, and while you are off, it answers your teammates from what you actually wrote down, with a source under each answer. When the answer is not in the record, it says so instead of guessing. The quick question still gets answered. It just stops costing one person their focus, again and again, to answer it.
When you're off, your StandIn is on.
It answers your teammates' questions from work you've already done, in your words, with a source under every answer.