Feeling the friction.

Life is becoming frictionless. Answers are easy to come by. Very few mysteries remain in the world for the everyday person.

A research scientist trying to crack a hard problem would still spend significant time looking for answers. But for most of us the solutions are everywhere, available at the click of a button.

The internet began the transition to a life without friction by enabling access to endless information. Soon enough, the long row of encyclopaedias proudly displayed in your lounge room was a thing of the past. A quick web search will now tell you all you need to know (and even more things you don’t). No longer do you need your UBD or A-Z to navigate the streets of your town, when apps are available to replace them.

Creating a document or writing an email has never been easier. Most tools have embedded AI that can help you create what you need. You still need to provide some instruction, but even the simplest of directives will result in something pretty solid, at least as a starting point that you can later edit.

It seems like we’re really living in a golden age. An age where information is mostly free and plentiful and we can spend hours reading great novels or watching videos to increase our knowledge.

Frictionless is not free.

When I reply to an email, AI tells me it can help me write it. When I send a text, my phone ensures that I don’t make spelling mistakes and provides helpful prompts to rapidly reply to messages. My web browser has a convenient “Ask Gemini” button prominently displayed at the top of the screen in case I get stuck.

Recently I was speaking to someone who had used AI to write an email to people who had recently suffered a loss in the family.

I noticed my internal instinctive reaction was one of incredulity. I can’t believe somebody would use AI to write such a personal message, I thought. But this is happening more and more. As many people hit a mental or emotional hurdle, they use technology to jump right over it.

I myself recently wrote an email to an Auntie expressing my condolences for her terminally ill husband. We aren’t terribly close and haven’t spoken in years (not for any malicious reason), but it seemed like a small gesture that might be appreciated.

I procrastinated about writing that email for several days. I only planned to make it a short note, but the words were difficult to come by. So instead of sitting down and writing it, I put it off.

I had no doubt that AI could have helped me write the perfect note, and this task would have been done within a minute. However, something stopped me from using AI to create that email. I could feel the friction when the words wouldn’t come, and I had a tool in my pocket that could have easily removed that barrier for me.

I wanted the note to be personal, but I didn’t need or want it to be perfect. I also didn’t like the thought that my Auntie might consider the note to be AI-generated. But as we know, AI tools are getting better by the day, and there is a good chance she’d never even have known the difference.

Feeling the friction, and doing it anyway.

Eventually I forced myself to sit and write the short note. It was clunky, and I had to search for the right words, but sooner or later I got there. After I was done, I still had no doubt that AI could have done a much better job.

I didn’t need to write the note. My Auntie would not have been expecting it. It wasn’t the most I could have done, but it also wasn’t the least.

I think when we feel the friction and press on through it, we gain something. In this case, I don’t think the process of writing the note helped me to learn new skills or gain knowledge.

I’ll admit that it did give me a little satisfaction in knowing that I didn’t take the easy way out – that I sat and struggled over the note for a time. Nobody would have known or cared if I hadn’t. But sometimes I think we need to do things that are uncomfortable or awkward just because the opportunity is there.

I planned a vegetable garden using AI earlier this year. I know that I could have searched the internet, read books and put all the information together myself, but in this instance I decided to take the frictionless shortcut. I saved a lot of time developing my garden plan, and whether I had taken the shortcut or not, I still didn’t really know how it would turn out.

So what was it that made me feel completely comfortable creating the vegetable garden plan with AI, when this condolence note had me hesitating?

One factor is that the vegetable garden is simply analysis. An equation involving what vegetables to grow, the required conditions for those vegetables and then the care that is needed to make it happen. It’s the sort of analysis that can be complex, includes many variables and takes time, but there is a generally correct answer that can be found.

Different types of friction.

The friction that comes from planning a vegetable garden is administrative friction. It’s the friction that comes from searching, information gathering, compiling and planning. It’s the equivalent of digital manual labour. It’s time consuming and potentially tiresome work.

But the friction that arises from writing the condolence note originates from a different source. It’s human friction involving discomfort. The discomfort of not knowing the words to use, or how to craft sentences to provide the right tone and to convey a message of respect.

It’s more than a word-selection exercise – the discomfort stems from wanting to send the right message, with a personal tone and the sensitivity appropriate for such a situation. The discomfort is seated in emotion, relationships and history, rather than facts.

We often take the easy way out when it comes to human friction. Many people find themselves avoiding difficult conversations, hesitating in providing critical feedback or declining to face someone who is in the midst of strong emotions.

But I think it’s the human friction that is the most valuable. We need to feel the feelings and spend time sitting with discomfort to come out stronger and wiser on the other side.

It’s unfortunate that friction can be so easily circumvented with today’s technology. Many people are increasingly using AI as a personal companion or therapist. I can see the temptation myself – who wouldn’t rather talk to someone who never judges you, seeks to champion your ideas and unfailingly support you? The friction present in regular human relationships can be frustrating.

Unfortunately, when we avoid the human friction and discomfort, we start to strip ourselves of something that technology can’t quite replace.

It’s not that the friction creates a better outcome – in this instance I know that my note would have strictly been better crafted by AI. It’s that the friction is in itself part of the benefit, because we need to feel the emotions and persist in the face of discomfort.

So when we feel the friction and the accompanying temptation to eradicate it, it’s worth considering the type of friction it is, and what we potentially stand to gain from pushing through it.