Author’s Note: I wrote this piece in May of 2023 and thought that I could use ChatGPT as an editor to take my first draft and make it sound better (it added the word “delve” of course). I have abandoned that practice and now have a human editor. I do still use generative AI for copyediting and fact checking. As of January 2026 I have restored my original first draft with copyedits and removing the link to Cornell from the quoted study.
Placing a trade shouldn’t be complicated; it should be smooth as butter. The Fidelity app makes investing easy, with zero-commission US stock and ETF trades, no account minimums, and fractional shares trading. Fidelity, where nothing comes between you and the trade. That's smooth.
I was listening to the podcast “The Daily” from the New York Times recently and was struck by how well this ad summarized the prevailing mindset of our digital lives. It boldly declares that we shouldn’t be burdened by difficult or complicated tasks—everything should be “smooth”. Any roughness should be sanded away, removing all friction from our day-to-day experience.
Merriam-Webster defines friction in this way: “the force that resists relative motion between two bodies in contact”. Britannica adds: “Frictional forces, such as the traction needed to walk without slipping, may be beneficial, but they also present a great measure of opposition to motion.” The key focus from both definitions is the way that friction provides resistance or opposition to motion.
How many times have you tried to complete a task, only to hit some kind of resistance that stopped you from moving forward? You need to schedule an appointment, so you call the provided phone number only to find the office closed. You have planned out your meals for the week, built your grocery list, and traveled to the grocery store, only to find that the one key ingredient is out of stock. These points of friction oppose and resist us, making a simple task more difficult.
One of the key insights of our age is that digital products can be incredibly effective at removing these friction points. Digital scheduling for appointments can happen any time of day or night—no need to call when the office is open, or even call at all. If I build my grocery list in a grocery delivery app instead of on paper, I can see immediately that the key ingredient is out of stock and adjust accordingly. No trip to the store, much less frustration, much smoother.
There are many examples of digital products that have found one of these key friction points and removed it, leading to breakout success and improving the lives of millions of users. The best apps do this over and over again, gradually removing additional resistance until the experience is “smooth as butter”. Each edition of this newsletter will look at one of these products, examine the key friction points it removed, and analyze how this drove its success.
However, the purpose of this newsletter is not simply to try and understand what makes these products successful. I often try out new products, eager to have some small frustration removed from my day. Yet as I look back after using the product for a few weeks or months, I find myself asking questions. What happened to the friction that I used to experience? Is it no longer in existence, or simply hidden somewhere else? Am I really better off now that I use this product on a regular basis?
I found the Merriam-Webster definition of friction to be particularly interesting in that it references “two bodies in contact”. The word “bodies” in this case refers to the more general definition—“a mass of matter distinct from other masses”—but of course a human body also fits into that general category. One of the primary ways our digital products have been able to remove friction is by reducing the amount of time there are “two bodies in contact”, two bodies of human beings.
My physical, embodied existence is often a source of frustration, especially when it involves other people. Other people have their own wills, desires, and tasks to complete, which can come in direct conflict with what I am trying to accomplish. When we are able to move to a digital, disembodied existence, these conflicts are removed; I no longer face their opposition to my own will and desire.
Yet I can’t help but think I am somehow worse off in this disembodied existence. I truly enjoy its benefits and wouldn’t want to go without them, but the costs seem higher than they first appeared.
Uber is perhaps the most obvious example of a product that has removed significant friction from the lives of many but has brought about significant costs. Getting from place to place is easier than ever; I can press a button and have a car pick me up and take me where I want to go. If I don’t want to chat with the driver—my preferred approach—I can do this with minimal interaction with another human. Companies like Cruise are even removing that final point of friction: the person behind the wheel.
Yet the costs of Uber go far beyond the fare I pay in the app. The earnings for taxi drivers, both from their fares and the value of the medallions they must purchase in order to operate in some cities, have decreased significantly. Uber has contributed significantly to the growth of the so-called “gig economy”; its drivers are independent contractors that get paid by the ride. A study on its impact was summarized this way, not exactly a rousing endorsement:
All those we studied acknowledged that they felt a host of personal, social, and economic anxieties without the cover and support of a traditional employer—but they also claimed that their independence was a choice and that they would not give up the benefits that came with it.
In spite of these obvious costs, when I am traveling in a new city I still choose Uber over many other transportation methods. If the public transit is particularly good I will consider using it, but the ease of getting where I want with Uber is still unmatched.
Products like Uber are what the philosopher of technology Albert Borgmann calls a device. L.M. Sacasas summarizes Borgmann’s ideas in this way:
Borgmann arrived at the device paradigm by first formulating the notion of availability. Availability is a characteristic of technology which answers to technology’s promise of liberation and enrichment. Something is technologically available, Borgmann explains, “if it has been rendered instantaneous, ubiquitous, safe, and easy.”
The goal of a device is to provide its user with a particular end result, what Borgmann calls a commodity. The user of the device isn’t aware of the underlying actions that produce this commodity, in fact that is one of the benefits of using a device. Again, Sacasas summarizes it in this way:
The evolution of modern technology is characterized by the progressive concealment of the machinery and the increasingly available commodity. “A commodity is truly available,” Borgmann writes, “when it can be enjoyed as a mere end, unencumbered by means.”
Each of the products that I will cover in this newsletter is in some way trying to become a device by gradually removing friction from a particular task until the end result is “instantaneous, ubiquitous, safe, and easy”. My goal is to reveal the machinery that powers these products in order to see and think more clearly about how I use them.
Instead of a simple question such as “should I use this product?” I will be asking many of the questions Sacasas raises, such as “What sort of person will the use of this technology make of me?” or “How will the use of this technology affect how I relate to other people?”. These questions too often go unasked, and the resulting disembodied and digital world in which we live is worse for it.