Chapter 1: The Shift from Physical to Digital

What comes to mind when you think of 1999?

A time filled with discussions about the Millennium bug and the dot-com bubble? For me, it brings back memories of music.

Napster, the revolutionary peer-to-peer file-sharing platform, transformed the music landscape. No longer was it necessary to purchase an entire album just for one catchy tune. With Napster, downloading any song I desired became possible.

Despite its flaws—slow downloads, the risk of viruses, and interruptions from phone calls—the service was free and opened up a vast library of music. This marked the dawn of a new era. When Steve Jobs introduced the iPod, I quickly digitized my entire music collection, granting me access to thousands of songs wherever I went. Gone were the days of frequent trips to music stores like Sam Goody or Tower Records, painstakingly buying albums and copying my favorite tracks onto cassettes or CDs.

I eventually parted with my vinyl records and even disposed of my turntable and CD player. In hindsight, that decision feels like a significant misstep.

Back then, embracing digital technology seemed trendy. However, I failed to grasp that music embodies much more than mere digital files. An album is a tangible object, something to cherish and hold. The artwork, the distinct smell of vinyl—these aspects matter.

Music engages all of our senses.

Chapter 2: Sensory Overload and Underload

Numerous reasons contribute to the growing disdain for technology companies. But what’s particularly intriguing is why many people increasingly find new technologies uncomfortable. Here are some recent sentiments I’ve come across.

An MBA student expressed a surprising view about his Tesla:

"I adore my Tesla, but it feels more like an iPad on wheels. I don’t truly feel like I’m in control; the car is essentially driving itself. Now, I’m searching for an electric vehicle that provides a more classic driving experience."

Similarly, my wife remarked:

"Yes, my Kindle is convenient, and I wouldn't want to return to physical books. Still, I miss the tactile sensation of holding a book—the weight in my hands, the feel of turning the pages, the fresh scent of a new book, or the familiar aroma of an old one."

Another example from a running channel I follow stated:

"The latest running shoes are incredibly advanced, but I barely feel the ground beneath me. It’s as if the shoes are doing the running for me. I feel like a mere passenger."

Do you notice the common theme?

Increasingly, people complain that modern technologies strip away the physical sensations associated with activities like reading, driving, or running. This loss affects the overall quality of the experience.

The first video, Big Tech Doesn't Want You Anymore, delves into the implications of our reliance on technology, highlighting the emotional disconnect that can arise as we become more dependent on digital solutions.

Chapter 3: The Pursuit of a Frictionless Experience

We often take our five senses for granted. Unless something disrupts them, we see, touch, smell, taste, and hear without recognizing how these senses keep us connected to the world.

Today’s technology guides us toward a frictionless existence. It’s evident that the aim is to create smoother experiences. For instance, high-quality music is instantly accessible, and modern vehicles increasingly automate driving, providing more assistance in various scenarios.

The tech industry champions the frictionless user experience (UX) as a significant selling point. It's a concept we can all appreciate. Who wants to deal with bulky records, heavy books, or old-fashioned cars, or risk injury from thin-soled shoes?

The second video, Why Programming Might Not Feel Fun Anymore, discusses how the push for simplicity in technology can lead to a loss of engagement and enjoyment, emphasizing the need for balance in our digital interactions.

Chapter 4: Balancing Gains and Losses

However, striving for a frictionless world comes at a cost. While technology offers convenience, it often diminishes other essential sensory experiences, making activities feel dull. This can lead to frustration as we long for something that feels lost.

It’s clear that these physical sensations are integral to the overall experience. They might seem minor—an inconvenience to be eliminated—but their absence alters the experience significantly. While a frictionless environment adds undeniable value, it also transforms our interactions in crucial ways.

Our connection to physical sensations is hardly surprising. As physical beings, we’ve relied on our senses for survival for millennia.

Thus, we need a more refined approach—one that eliminates detrimental friction while preserving beneficial friction. Achieving this balance is no easy task.

Chapter 5: A Return to Tangibility

Digital technology was exciting in 1999. Yet, today, both young and old seem increasingly drawn to the ambiance depicted in Michael Connelly’s novels and the Bosch TV series.

In a memorable scene, Maddie Bosch admires an album featuring her father’s favorite saxophonist, Art Pepper, at the Record Parlour in Hollywood. This nostalgic moment showcases the joy of tangible experiences.

When Maddie brings home her new record and places it on her father’s Marantz 6300 turntable, she truly connects with the music. The sound emanating from the Ohm Walsh 4 speakers, powered by a McIntosh tube amplifier, envelops her in a rich auditory experience that a smartphone and headphones simply cannot replicate.

While I don’t wish to return to the pre-Napster days, I have embraced the digital realm. However, I’ve chosen to step back and become more discerning about technology. I seek a little friction—the right kind of friction—by working on building a record collection again. This engagement revitalizes my senses and enhances my enjoyment of life.