In praise of friction
Three years after the pandemic started, it’s time to trade the apps for a more analog life
Like a lot of Americans,1 I work remotely from home. Remote work isn’t new to me. In fact, I worked from home on and off before Zoom. Before iPhones. Before broadband. (The sound of a dial-up modem still gives me Pavlovian anxiety about deadlines.) But, in those days I ferried my kids back and forth to school and regularly attended a neighborhood book club. I worked out at the gym and shopped at the grocery store. In other words, I got out of the house a lot.
Of course, in March 2020, I stopped doing all of that. Remote work was suddenly a lot more remote. But thanks to the Cloud and essential workers who put their lives on the line so we could have groceries, healthcare, etc. privileged people like me carried on. We did things differently, but we carried on.
Quarantine was especially important for our family because our daughter was scheduled to have two brain surgeries 1,300 miles from home. We couldn’t risk COVID complicating those plans. I only visited with friends and family on Zoom or via text. I used Shipt to have groceries delivered to my doorstep. And I used an exercise app to strength train in my basement. I had done some of these things out of convenience on occasion before, but suddenly my entire life revolved around my laptop and my phone. I downloaded one app after another to keep my family isolated and safe. I got very good at avoiding human contact.
Turns out I got a little too good at it. February 2023 looks very different from March 2020, but I still find myself way too reliant on software that makes avoiding other humans way too easy. I still order most of my groceries on Shipt. I still work out in my basement. I still default to texting my parents instead of driving an hour to their house. And I’m sick of it all.
So why do I keep doing it? That’s a good question. I tell myself it’s because I’m busy. But I only have one kid living at home now (compared to three at the height of the pandemic). I don’t commute to meetings with clients anymore, and my husband—who is now on a hybrid schedule—does a lot more of the domestic chores. The truth is, I’m not very busy. So what’s my excuse? I think it’s the software.
Let me explain. Or, better yet, let me let Oliver Burkeman, author of Four Thousand Weeks, explain: “The way to make a fortune in Silicon Valley is to identify a ‘pain point’—one of the small annoyances resulting from (more jargon) the ‘friction’ of daily life—and then to offer a way to circumvent it.”
As a content strategist, I can confirm that tech folks talk about user friction a lot. There are even different types of user friction: emotional friction, interaction friction, and cognitive friction. Encounter enough friction, and the user starts “rage clicking.” (Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.)
In March 2020, we had to avoid the frictions of a highly contagious virus and an overburdened health system. The global pandemic created the perfect product-market fit for apps that kept us safe at home.
“But smoothness, it turns out, is a dubious virtue,” says Burkeman. “it’s often the unsmoothed textures of life that make it liveable, helping nurture the relationships that are crucial for mental and physical health, and for the resilience of our communities.”
I had an epiphany when I read Burkeman’s book. It’s those rough textures that I miss. It’s the lack of friction-filled interactions that have made me feel isolated. And I don’t think I’m alone. A lot of Americans report that their mental health has declined as a result of the pandemic. In 2019, about 16% of adults took prescription pills because they were anxious, depressed, tired, or distracted. Today, nearly 25% do.
I love intuitive software. Believe me, no one hates having to click on five links to start the return process more than I do. But when it comes to real life, I could use a little less efficiency and a lot more emotional connection. The serendipitous run-in with a friend at the market that leads to plans to spend more time together. The slow pace of an overnight visit with my parents. The real-life advice of the knowledgeable salesperson at the hardware store (because even the most helpful Amazon reviews can’t give you that.)
Kurt Vonnegut talked about this very phenomenon on Now, the PBS newsmagazine, back in 2005. (This anecdote has been getting a lot of play on social media lately so it may sound familiar.) He called it “farting around.” Here’s an excerpt from the show’s transcript:
DAVID BRANCACCIO: There's a little sweet moment, I've got to say, in a very intense book—your latest [A Man Without a Country]—in which you're heading out the door and your wife says what are you doing? I think you say— I'm getting—I'm going to buy an envelope.
KURT VONNEGUT: Yeah.
DAVID BRANCACCIO: What happens then?
KURT VONNEGUT: Oh, she says well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.
I meet a lot of people. And, see some great-looking babies. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, I ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is, is we're here on Earth to fart around.
And, of course, the computers will do us out of that.
Ah, the computers. Or, more specifically, the internet. It’s a slippery slope and now I find myself trying to climb up it. I’m looking for ways to live a more analog life and forcing myself to get out of the house.
Like Vonnegut, I’m also trying to walk around the neighborhood more. I bought a cute shopping trolley that I pull around town, buying gifts at the local bookstore, shipping packages to my kids at UPS, and grabbing a loaf of fresh bread. Running errands on foot takes longer and has its limitations, but it’s one of the perks of city living and it makes me happy.
I’ve noticed my social skills are rusty. I know making small talk is hard work, but like most difficult things, it has its rewards. According to this fascinating Harvard Business Review article, small talk makes people feel more emotionally connected, which is exactly what I crave. So I’ve challenged myself to initiate conversations with new people. I’m planning to get drinks with the photographer who recently did my headshots, and I’ve scheduled a walk with an artist I bought a piece from a few months ago.
Reintroducing some friction at work is a little trickier. Malcolm Gladwell caused quite a stir in August 2022 when he got emotional on The Diary of a CEO podcast and declared that it was not in our best interest to work from home. At the risk of pissing off a lot of people, I think he’s right. I know this is a complicated issue, and recognize that it touches on thorny issues of equity, inclusion, sexism, and more. But I keep coming back to this: We all recognize that it’s better for kids to attend in-person school. Why don’t we feel the same way about in-person work?
A child’s needs can’t be fully met through a Zoom screen and, I would argue, neither can yours. What are those core needs? Paloma Medina, a coach who counts Etsy and Squarespace among her clients, uses an acronym—BICEPS—to explain them.
B is for belonging
I is for improvement
C is for choice
E is for equality/fairness
P is for predictability
S is for significance
Seems to me it’s especially hard to meet our need to belong and feel significant when we’re working alone in our own little silos. And I firmly believe we can’t remotely mentor or coach younger professionals (core need: Improvement) as well remotely as we can in person.
This doesn’t mean there aren’t tradeoffs. There are, of course. Which is one of the reasons why hybrid work is so great: it allows you to fulfill some core needs with in-person work and others with remote work. But I digress.
My point is that we do important “farting around” at work, too. And if you’re working remotely—or even in a hybrid situation—you may have to make a conscious effort to add some good friction back into your life. Maybe it’s worth traveling to attend that meeting with your client in person. Maybe you replace daily water cooler conversation with monthly happy hours. Or maybe you institute Firm Fridays, like a former employer of mine did, so that a critical mass of people are in the office on the same day.
These are complex problems, and there are no easy solutions. But As Emily St. John Mandel wrote in Station 11, “There is no before.” Going back isn’t an option. So we have to find a way forward. And I, for one, think that path is a road paved with good friction.
Also on my mind
“I am the one woman who has it all.” This essay will make you laugh—and cry.
Ever wonder how much you should budget for a kitchen model? Turns out there’s a formula of sorts. I found this really handy.
Holy shit. How did I not know about Worn on TV? This crazy website tells you the source for the black triangle bikini (it’s Swiminista) Harper wore on White Lotus and white denim overalls (vintage Gap) Carrie wore on And Just Like That.
I will never not be amazed by how much insight Liz Fosslein (of Liz & Mollie fame) can pack into a single cartoon.
The recent kerfuffle over password sharing and Netflix’s definition of family reveals the pernicious prejudices of the tech industry and its outsized influence on the American economy. This was a fascinating read.
Speaking of big tech, here’s how Twitter changed the world in 25 Tweets. (Bonus: This piece is a great example of brilliant design.)
Two decorating tricks I’ve used a lot lately: #1: Cover flat surfaces (bedside tables, desks, dressers) with a piece of custom-cut glass and stop stressing. #2 Buy pillow inserts one inch bigger than your pillow cover so your pillows are extra poufy. I can’t remember who taught me either trick, so if you recognize these tidbits as wisdom you shared with me, I tip my hat to you.
I finally read Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow and it’s as good as everyone says.
If this recent study revealing that Black mothers and their newborns of all income levels have worse health outcomes than their white counterparts isn’t A1 evidence of structural racism, I don’t know what is.
I loved this piece about the cringey phrases “work wife” and “work husband” and what the anxiety we have about mixed-gender friendships.
According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the number of people who primarily work from home tripled from 5.7% —about 9M people—to 17.9%—about 27.6M people—between 2019 and 2021.