The feed is the left two-thirds of the bottom half, and it carries two quite different kinds of thing.
Events and posts
Events happen. Nobody writes them. A deal is won, a sprint completes, somebody is onboarded, a document is fully signed, a deal moves stage, a new colleague joins.
They appear because the underlying record changed, which means the feed is a genuine account of what the organisation did rather than what people remembered to announce.
Posts are written. Somebody chose to say something.
Three kinds: an update, an announcement, and a celebration. They differ by icon rather than by colour, so the feed stays readable rather than becoming a chart.
Repetition is collapsed
A good day in sales used to produce eleven near-identical rows.
Now consecutive events by the same person doing the same thing fold into one line with a count, and a chevron expands them. Three deals closed by one person reads as one row saying so.
Nothing is hidden. Everything is still reachable, and the busy days stay readable, which is the point: a feed that becomes unreadable exactly when the most is happening has failed at its only job.
Reacting
Hovering a row offers a quick set: applause, heart, celebration, rocket, fire and eyes. A plus opens the full picker for anything else.
Reactions aggregate, so you see how many of each and whether one is yours.
They are the right response to most things in the feed. A colleague closing a deal wants acknowledgement, not a paragraph, and a row with nine reactions communicates more than three comments would.
Commenting
Posts take comments, and the first couple show inline underneath without opening anything.
That inline preview is why the feed works as a place to actually talk rather than a place to notice that talking happened elsewhere. You can read the exchange without leaving the row.
Colleagues can be mentioned, and a mention reaches them wherever they are.
Pinning
A post can be pinned so it stays at the top.
Worth using sparingly and worth unpinning afterwards. A pinned post from six weeks ago is an announcement that has become furniture, and it teaches people to skip the top of the feed, which is the one place you actually need them to read.
Personal and Company
The switch above the feed changes which stream you are reading.
Company is the organisation. Personal is yours.
Company is the default and is where most people stay, because the feed's value is mostly in knowing what happened somewhere you were not.
It is live
New items arrive without a refresh, and the feed remembers where you had read up to, so returning shows you what is new rather than making you work it out.
Posting well
The feed is one of the few genuinely cross-organisational surfaces, which makes it valuable and makes it easy to spoil.
Post the outcome, not the activity. "Shipped the new billing flow, live for everyone from Monday" is worth a hundred people's attention. "Working on billing today" is not.
Celebrate other people more than yourself. The reliable pattern in every organisation with a healthy feed.
Use announcements sparingly. They carry weight because they are rare, and a team that posts three a week has spent it.
Reply in the thread rather than posting again. A conversation split across four rows is a conversation nobody follows.
Do not post what a channel should carry. Anything needing a response from specific people belongs in chat. The feed is for things worth knowing, not things needing doing.
What it will not do
It will not notify everybody. The feed is read, not pushed. Something that must be seen needs a channel message or a proper announcement.
It will not show what you cannot see. Events surface from records you have access to, so two colleagues see genuinely different feeds.
It will not replace a channel. No threads to speak of, no search worth relying on, no membership. It is a noticeboard, deliberately.
How events get written
Nobody writes them, and they are not a log of clicks.
An event appears when a record reaches a state worth announcing: a deal marked won, a sprint closed, a document with every signature on it, a person onboarded. The feed is downstream of the work rather than beside it, which is why it cannot drift out of date and why nobody has to remember to post.
The consequence worth knowing: if an event did not appear, the record did not change. A deal everybody believes is won and which produces no event is a deal somebody has not marked won, and the feed has just told you so.
Writing a post
The composer takes formatted text rather than plain, so a post with a list in it reads as a list.
Colleagues can be mentioned and the mention reaches them. That makes the feed usable for the narrow case of "this is worth everybody knowing, and two people in particular", which is otherwise an awkward thing to do without either spamming a channel or sending three separate messages.
Colour discipline, and why it matters here
The feed deliberately does not colour-code. Post types differ by icon, HQ labels are one uniform grey chip, and the accent appears once rather than per category.
The reasoning is that a feed is read fast and vertically. A column where every row carries a different colour becomes a chart of nothing, and the eye stops distinguishing anything. The emoji on an event carries its identity; the chrome around it stays quiet.
Why it is worth keeping alive
An organisation past about fifteen people stops knowing what it is doing. Not in a dramatic way: sales stops knowing what engineering shipped, engineering stops knowing which customers arrived, and everybody's sense of momentum comes from their own corner.
The event half of this feed fixes that without anybody maintaining it, because it is generated from the work itself. The posted half only works if people post. That is worth one deliberate habit from whoever leads a team: one real post a week, about something that actually happened.
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