We yearn for friction

There is a Kurt Vonnegut anecdote that I love: His wife asks him why he’s going out to buy a single envelope, when he could just order a hundred envelopes and have them in his closet to use anytime.

Vonnegut told this story a few times, once punctuating it with: "And let me tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody ever tell you any different."

After perusing many early-2026 essays, it seems the people are ready to fart around again. They are shoving back against ease in favor of plodding about. Only they’re not calling it farting around, they’re calling it friction-maxxing.

As Vonnegut pointed out, it’s the dilly-dallying that makes us human. As so many people have begun to recognize today, convenience has dulled our experiences. We need friction to truly feel! To walk the dog to the bakery, tie her up outside, buy the loaf of bread, and then hustle home in the rain hoping she doesn’t stop for a poop so you have to juggle your loaf and her loaf… is to be human.

Kathryn Jezer-Morton wrote in The Cut about introducing more friction to her life, not less. She, too, noted that the proliferation of digital ease should make us question our humanity. Silicon Valley, she says, has made great investments in eliminating the inconvenience in our lives — because we absolutely froth at the mouth to be liberated from little annoyances. 

“This is especially evil because our love of escaping is one of humanity’s most poetically problematic tendencies, and now it’s being used against us,” she writes, referencing a friend who admitted that his favorite part of the day was sitting on the toilet with his phone.

“Once we’ve adopted a habit of escaping from something, whether it’s Uber-ing dinner five nights a week or using AI for replying to texts, the act of return, which is how we might describe no longer using a tool of escape, feels full of irritating friction,” Jezer-Morton says. “In these moments, we become exactly like toddlers in the five minutes after the iPad is taken away: The dullness and labor of embodied existence is unbearable.”

And speaking of children, a gripe about how we’ve over-simplified their lives as well: Some things should be a little harder for them! I’ve had friends text me links to buy Girl Scout cookies or other school fundraisers, and I’m putting my foot down. Your child should have to awkwardly ask for my business. One of the unspoken goals of the fundraiser — at least when I was a kid, in 1855 — was to teach the skill of discomfort. There is nothing that will spike your 3rd-grade adrenaline quite like knocking on doors with your best sales pitch for chocolate bars. Life is filled with awkward conversations, might as well get used to it by upselling the widow down the street on a subscription to Martha Stewart Living.

But I digress…

The good news is that people seem genuinely interested in changing their reliance on tech. There was a spike in digital-detox resolutions this year, “appstinence” is the new Dry January, and the people are Bricking.

While everyone has talked about the negative effects of our digital lives, I’m going to take the very un-hater approach and go positive: Our analog lives are GOOD. It’s such an easy pitch! What is more fun, texting your pals or meeting up in real life? Listening to Spotify or going to a live show? Ordering UberEats (fries arrive cold) or going to an actual restaurant (fries hot, life good)?

I will be the first to admit that I hate being inconvenienced. I will skip my yoga class if it is too dark and cold out… then my first class back has me chirping that I will never again downplay how badly I need to roll around on the floor with strangers. I realize that my own aversion to friction has resulted in a life less enjoyed.

So I prefer to think about what I stand to gain when I add the inconveniences back in, rather than bemoan all the ways that it’s making a mockery of my one precious life. Even if the result of the friction isn’t necessarily a fun thing, the result is still good. I have built up my tolerance for the cumbersome, the annoying, the awkward — a net positive.

It is a little annoying to run to the store when I run out of toilet paper. I have both the ability and the means to order it online, or even put it on auto-refill so I never have to think about toilet paper for the rest of my life. Do I gain anything by wandering over to Walgreens and picking up a few rolls? In fact, I do. Like Vonnegut, I will say hello to dogs and maybe give a firetruck a thumbs up (I might actually start doing this, it sounds awesome). I will breathe fresh air. I will stretch my legs.

I’ve come to hate those year-end lists that platforms and services send us each December. The Spotify Wrapped report of how many hours you spent listening, the running app that shows how many miles you logged, the frequent flier email of how many flights you took. It’s your life reduced to data, rather than all the quirks and realities that defined the year.

Life really is for farting around — untracked, unbothered, and moisturized.