Friday, 4:47 pm. A message comes in: “Can you change the team photo on the About page? Nothing urgent.” Ten seconds to read it. Five minutes to find the file and check how it looks on mobile. And forty minutes to pick back up what I was doing before.
The ticket that doesn’t look like a ticket
A text change, an image to replace, a date to fix. Nobody opens a ticket for that. You answer in the conversation, between two meetings. That’s where it goes wrong: the real work is invisible, so nobody counts it.
The real cost is the return
Each small request pulls me out of what I was doing. My brain restarts from zero, like when the ticket inspector walks through the train, except nobody is asking for my ticket this time. Multiply that by ten requests a day: it never shows up in the planning, but it eats the day.
Three rules I’ve been applying since
- One single entry point. No private messages, no parallel emails: one channel, one queue.
- A minimal form. The page concerned, what needs to change, by when. Three fields are enough to cut half the back-and-forth.
- An estimate, even a rough one. “Twenty minutes” or “half a day” changes how the request gets prioritised. A request with no size always looks free.
On the product side, it’s a matter of visibility
A product owner who can’t see the content work can’t arbitrate it. So I take it out of the conversation and put it in the backlog, next to the real features. Not to add bureaucracy, but so that the next time we talk about capacity, the small requests are part of the count.
In short
A content request is never small for the person handling it. If it has no place in the system, it takes the place of everything else.