I’ve been thinking a lot about convenience. In the product design world, we fancy ourselves “problem solvers.” The way we see it, people (i.e. end users) have problems or frustrations and our job is to identify them and craft a solution to ease their burden. Any new product needs to communicate the problem it is solving in order for someone to want to buy it, download it, go out of their way to acquire and familiarize themselves with it.
Sometimes this problem is very literal (e.g. you can’t keep track of all your tasks, so this new app is going to help you keep track of everything). Sometimes what we call a “problem” is more akin to simple boredom (e.g. here’s an app to entertain you for the 20 min between when you finish eating dinner and when you muster the enthusiasm to start the dishes).
One of the tech industry’s primary underlying assumptions is that increased convenience is a rough approximation of progress. Many apps have been financed with the goal of making things easier and faster, assuming that the future entails a world of increased ease and limited time to spare. Delivery services are the clearest example. There are use cases for these services beyond convenience (accessibility for those with limited mobility comes to mind), but mostly these are apps for when we don’t want to expend the energy and, more importantly, the time to go out and get things. And if this sounds obvious, it’s perhaps because we’ve so internalized this assumed value. We rarely stop to question whether or not ease and convenience should be prioritized.
My issue with the convenience principle is that it leaves its central thesis unresolved. Namely, why do I need to save all this time and energy? If I’m delegating the task of fixing my car to a mechanic because I need to go to work, that’s simple division of labor. But if I don’t really have anything else that’s important (let’s avoid for now the rabbit hole of how to define that), then what’s the purpose of convenience?
I hope this doesn’t come across as moralizing or ascetic. The reason I take issue with the convenience assumption is not because I’m opposed to “laziness” on principle. The issue is that the complex web of financing and development in the tech world creates a series of patchwork solutions based on this assumption, that are then sold to us without necessarily making our lives better by any convincing metric. What’s more, we are then presented with a new solution for this newly-liberated free time. The same technologies being developed to save us time are, of course, also draining our time. The average American spent about 2.5 hours on social media per day in 2021. Does it sort of even out? Should we just call it a draw?
Going back to the central question at hand: why save this time and energy? What’s the purpose of time and energy, if not used for personal gain (e.g. work) or personal satisfaction (e.g. leisure, times with friends and family)? Above is a picture of my Nikon FE, an analog SLR camera from the 1970’s that I purchased last year on eBay. This camera has provided me some very cool photos in exchange for being a huge pain in the ass, and I bring it up as an example of how rational actors sometimes engage with things that require more time and energy than their alternatives (in this case a modern DSLR). Why do I take photos on film and spend the extra energy learning to load the film, wasting some bad shots, walking the film roll to the last remaining photo lab in Brooklyn, etc? Because it’s satisfying. I think we underestimate the value of satisfaction in human behavior. There is of course a trend towards more friction-filled analog behavior in the face of digital optimization. Satisfaction probably explains popular subreddits dedicated to things like analog film (1.6 million members) and woodworking (3.6 million members) in the face of ever-evolving smartphone camera quality and IKEA.
Anyway, I guess my point here is that we should be more skeptical of the implication that the convenient life is the good life. It’s a handy marketing device for tech startups, but the cost is a world devoid of satisfaction. I’d be curious to know if you, reader, feel the same or if you’re aware of other writing that has explored this subject (who will be the first to reference Zen and the Life of Motorcycle Maintenance??). I welcome your comments below!
I agree whole heartedly that convenience is too often the lazy goal for technology. On the development side, this sometimes gets translated as efficiency. All euphemism often boil down to removing human involvement in the process. And as you pointed out - sometimes it is the human involvement that actually makes doing the very thing worthwhile. The process builds the satisfaction and insights. Half the episodes of Seinfeld wouldn’t exist without the humor and absurdity of people actually speaking to each other. There is no soup nazi when you order your soup ahead of time and pick it up form a nondescript window. Another overlooked aspect is that of learning. By indexing on convenience, we disallow the opportunities and time for personal growth. Some things are just hard! And the process of learning that skill also creates that growth and satisfaction that building for convenience steals from us. I’m not surprised how many adults play video games. We need to feel accomplished somewhere, and easy video games are no fun.
All valid points. With regards to the camera example: I find a lot of satisfaction from using photoshop, and lightroom, and printing my photos. For me the satisfaction from the inconvenience of it all still exists even though it’s digital. I suspect there’s another issue at play, which is making physical objects with your hands. The tactility of it is super satisfying.