The Hidden Costs of Convenience
How embracing friction can help you achieve your goals
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Introduction
Spending the fourth day of 2024 in the ER with my wife was far from what I had envisioned the beginning of the new year to look like. It all began after a meal at Rumi’s Kitchen in D.C. with my mom and aunt, when my wife started experiencing lower abdominal discomfort. As someone who no longer had an appendix, memories of the pain I'd felt on my walk home from school in July 2008 came rushing back. I ended up in the hospital that month with a surgical procedure done to remove my abdominal pouch. Concerned, we decided to stop at an urgent care facility for an evaluation.
The physician's assistant there examined my wife and reassured us that it didn't seem like appendicitis, but that the issue wouldn’t be ruled out for certain without a CT scan. Worried about the possibility of a ruptured appendix during our flight back to Denver the next day, we decided to head to the nearest hospital. As we waited for a doctor, three hours elapsed since the nurse had triaged us. I observed others in the waiting room, some knowing their conditions and waiting to be seen, while others, like my wife, faced uncertainty about their ailments, putting their trust in the hospital's expertise.
During this time of inconvenience, I took out my laptop and began researching potential illnesses my wife could be facing, wanting to do something “productive” while we waited. It was a futile exercise that provided a false sense of hope, but it entertained my anxious brain for the time being. I realize that as humans, we have an innate desire for certainty, empowerment, and control, especially when faced with uncertainty, discomfort, or inconvenience in our lives. A feeling that has been enhanced in recent years with the power of the Internet.
At that moment, my wife looked at me and suggested, "Maybe we should leave; it's probably nothing." I approached a nurse and inquired about the estimated wait time. In a bustling city like D.C., the nurse explained that they couldn't predict precisely when we'd be seen due to the unpredictability of severe cases and the fluctuation in the queue. We left.
We decided to drive south to my mother's place near Stafford, VA. There, I advised my wife to search for a nearby hospital, hoping for better luck than we had in D.C. Fortunately, we found one and we did have better luck. Three hours later, we had undergone blood tests, a CT scan, and received a diagnosis. Fortunately, it wasn't a severe issue like appendicitis, but further medical attention and testing in Denver were necessary.
We spent a total of seven hours with a mix of anticipation and a dose of reality. Life is often inconvenient, and we have a choice: we can allow it to bother us or learn to build resilience through the friction it presents. Friction, a concept that the digital world has largely eliminated, has been replaced with convenience through delivery apps, instant information, and seamless experiences. The internet and its technologies have commodified our lives, teaching us that waiting and struggling are unnecessary—everything we desire can be obtained effortlessly and instantly.
Embracing Friction
Reclaiming the essence of everyday activities can pose a formidable challenge, particularly in a world where convenience and commodification reign supreme. Consider the decision to forgo grocery delivery in favor of physically visiting the store; initially, it may evoke a sense of unease. Nevertheless, as Michael Easter articulates in his book The Comfort Crisis, "A radical new body of evidence shows that people are at their best—physically harder, mentally tougher, and spiritually sounder—after experiencing the same discomforts our early ancestors were exposed to every day." Cold showers, walking to work, and sending a letter are not the fastest or most pleasant experiences in the world, but they deliver resilience, focus, and health to our lives.
He goes on to emphasize, "Scientists are finding that certain discomforts protect us from physical and psychological problems like obesity, heart disease, cancers, diabetes, depression, and anxiety, and even more fundamental issues like feeling a lack of meaning and purpose." In short, the relentless embrace of screen time, heated car seats (my wife loves these btw), food deliveries, and the relentless pursuit of a frictionless existence do not pave the path to greater happiness or holistic well-being. Having embarked on my digital minimalism journey for four years now, I can personally vouch for this transformation. I've removed the smartphone that was constantly in my pocket, eliminated GPS units from my car (have opted to bike to work when possible), and even cut off Wi-Fi from my home.
Along the way, I've experienced moments of being lost, had to confront distractions when boredom struck, and sought new avenues for nurturing my creativity. Yet, I've witnessed positive changes in my life—my mind is calmer, my body feels revitalized, and the prospect of a healthier diet and lifestyle no longer feels like a distant dream but a daily reality. However, I must admit that this transformation took longer than I initially anticipated.
I had hoped that by embracing friction for just a few months, my life would undergo an instantaneous shift, and I'd reap immediate benefits. But that wasn't the case. It's been a journey of gradual progress and adaptation. Yet, how can we achieve this sustainably? I understand that many of you are enthusiastic about starting the new year with resolutions to transform your digital habits or participate in Flip Phone February (as discussed in this NYT article).
While it's a commendable goal, embracing too much friction all at once can lead to unwanted pushback and unnecessary dropout rates. There's a reason why many people start the new year with enthusiasm for diets and exercise routines only to abandon them by March—they often fail to consider sustainability in their approach to embracing friction. Therefore, it's essential to create a plan that aligns with your needs and goals. Begin with small changes that gradually shape your desired habits, committing to increasing the level of discomfort each week.
For instance, instead of abruptly switching to a daily salad diet, start by incorporating a serving of greens into one meal per week. Don't make salads your entire diet at once. Rather, gradually increase the frequency to one meal per week after two months of enjoying the small servings. Eventually, you'll reach your goal of one salad per day. This approach emphasizes the long-term vision of habit formation, rather than quick changes that provide momentary satisfaction but aren't sustainable.
Similarly, when it comes to your digital habits, acknowledge that you may rely more on smart devices than you'd prefer. Recognize that this shift was gradual and designed by companies to enhance your convenience and comfort. Begin by rejecting unnecessary conveniences that drain your energy, such as doomscrolling or stress-inducing work-related apps. Replace them with small, manageable adjustments. Start by dedicating the last 10 minutes of your day to allow your brain to unwind from the constant information flow. Start engaging in offline hobbies like puzzles, LEGO building, woodworking, or journaling. Choose one activity and stick with it for a few weeks, gradually increasing the duration until you reach about one hour per day.
Next, maybe introduce a morning routine that minimizes friction with your smart devices. Refrain from checking your phone immediately upon waking and focus on making and enjoying breakfast instead. Let your brain do the heavy lifting, not your phone. As you embark on your journey of digital minimalism, you'll identify other digital areas in your life that you can do without. Ask yourself, "What can I go without this month? What is unnecessary or causing excessive stress that I need to release?" Recognize that friction isn't inherently negative; often, it helps us become more resilient.
Convenience and its costs
As I continue to contemplate society's aversion to friction, I'm reminded of the potential harm that convenience can bring. It doesn't merely streamline our daily lives; it infiltrates and affects our world in more profound ways. Consider the example of driverless cars. While having a personal chauffeur without the need for human payment is incredibly convenient, these vehicles often lack the intelligence to prevent injuries, resulting in harm to many individuals.1
Another instance is fast air travel, like the convenience of using a companion pass2 for Southwest Airlines. It allows me to bring my wife along for a trip with a minimal cost of $5.60 for her ticket, but it disconnects me from the cities and people below, focusing solely on my needs. Then there's Amazon and Prime shipping, which ensures speedy deliveries but may overlook whether workers are receiving a fair wage for their efforts. It's not solely about technological convenience or political considerations; it's about recognizing how the modern world has made us dependent on things, services, and algorithms rather than valuing human interactions.
I've come across articles about individuals who view AI as their companions and friends, foregoing the complexities of human relationships. I'm concerned about the way issues such as wars and conflicts around the world are portrayed in images and ads, often causing us to forget that real humans are suffering. I've realized that my life is being commodified while many struggle to make ends meet, and the more time I spend online, the less willing I am to engage with the challenges facing my local community.
That's precisely why I'm striving to move offline. Embracing friction and returning to a world with fewer conveniences is my motivation. It allows me to hear stories that aren't tailored to my preferences, to delve into complex topics instead of relying on brief YouTube summaries, and to celebrate New Year's Eve with family and laughter rather than watching reels of others in picturesque locations. Moving offline is about welcoming friction to become better individuals, and better individuals can contribute to a better world.
Conclusion
Yes, this post delves into weighty subjects for which we don't possess all the answers. We can't resolve global issues with a single Substack newsletter after all. However, what we can do is refuse unwarranted comfort and convenience, reclaiming control to lead well-rounded lives that aren't tethered to the internet. My hope for you in 2024 is that you prioritize offline moments with loved ones over the digital gratification of Instagram likes.
I am aware that this is quite a debated topic so here is a factsheet from the University of Michigan and other resources (Pew Research Survey, Waymo’s 7.1M miles study, Crash Data for SF) that can help you navigate this topic.
If you are savvy with credit cards and are near a Southwest hub, the Companion Pass via the Southwest Chase credit card is a great offer. Here is a referral link if you ever think about it: https://www.referyourchasecard.com/226d/FT9BYO24ZL