In defense of friction
- Esther Dyson
- 9 hours ago
- 6 min read
I have been thinking a lot about friction recently, in this age of optimization and efficiency. I first learned about the challenges of optimization when I worked with Federal Express as a securities analyst back in the late 70s and early 80s, when the company was just getting started. They were on a mission to be optimized, but learned the hard way that the more efficient you are, the tougher it is to respond when anything messes up the carefully optimized setup. In other words, when friction intervenes, you need alternate paths and equipment to route around it.
What I did not yet understand was the value of friction itself. It can give you time to reflect, to appreciate the unexpected, or to connect with people you might never have met. In this age of AI, people seem to be rushing through everything, “consuming” summaries of books or articles they never read or contemplate, asking an app to choose their wardrobe, and relying on an AI agent to plan their vacation travels. Why not just tell the agent to go itself and send you a summary? Once the robots get agile enough, should I use one to swim for me every morning? Just kidding…or maybe not. I have seen ads for bots that can answer friends’ questions online, saving kids “the awkward interactions” of communicating for themselves.
So a couple of weeks ago, this observation by Anand Ghiridaradas, as a guest on Ezra Klein’s podcast, caught my attention (about 20 minutes in):
“[The Epstein story] is revealing how these elites make decisions about trust — that I think are really different from the way folks at home go through the world and make decisions. I think you make character judgments about people, about how honest they have been and therefore will be.These billionaires, these superelites, these superlawyers are working on a whole different kind of system. Their system has to do, as you say, with how loaded with connections you are in this network, how high your stock is on a given day in this network.What Epstein figured out was how to game this. He figured out the vulnerability of this entire network, which is that these people are actually not that serious about character. In fact, character may be a liability for some of them, may be an unnecessary source of friction.”
In short, friction is not inherently “bad” or “good.” Sometimes it should be optimized away, like interacting with an airline booking system. Other times it can be useful. Or even delightful. In order to really see the forest, you must walk among the trees, trip over exposed roots, and smell both the fresh leaves overhead and the fallen leaves rotting underfoot.
Efficiency may get you where you were going, but perhaps the journey itself is the point. Last week was busy for me; my Out-of-Office response was headlined JFK-SFO-DCA-MCO-LGA - a very efficient way of describing a five-city marathon! Fortunately, I had left New York before the big storm on Sunday night; see a screen shot from my favorite Schadenfreude site, above. But a different “exception” caught up with me.
The diciest leg of my trip was San Francisco to Washington, DC, to attend a mere two-hour soirée at a noisy restaurant. This evening gathering was just a pre-meeting for the main event, on philanthropy, the next day…and was the only part I could join in person. I had to be in person at another event in Orlando the following day. Even a relatively short flight delay – just a small bit of friction – would have rendered the whole excursion pointless.
My flight was scheduled to arrive in DC at 4:30 for the 6 pm event. Miraculously, I got in early and had a great evening! I was glad I had taken the risk, and it was worth getting up at 5 am the next morning to make my 7 am flight to Orlando for a healthcare event. My efficiency bet had paid off!
The reason I took the risky flight was to argue – in person! – for the importance of human connection – i.e. friction – in philanthropy. True charity is not about allocating your dollars wisely (although that certainly helps). It’s about human empathy and connection, being present. You can’t outsource your own attention.
There’s no way I felt I could make that argument effectively from a distance. Done right, charity serves both the recipient and the donor. It’s not - or should not be - a question of the size of the letters on the hospital wall or which table you get at the gala. It should work in a way that gives you satisfaction from the giving, not from the transaction. When’s the last time you gave some friend or relative some object you liked, because you could see that they would actually love it far more than you did? At the DC soiree, by talking and eating with people dedicated to helping others manage their giving, I was modeling this idea: connection over efficiency.
The next morning I awoke to a text that my DCA-to-Orlando flight was delayed by 3 hours. Of course, being very efficient and a good planner (LOL), I was able to use my “swimming insurance” - an Equinox membership - to take my daily swim just a short Uber ride from my hotel. I had a wonderful swim and then walked to the nearby Foggy Bottom Metro stop to head to the airport, lugging my huge suitcase plus my backpack and a cloth bag holding my wet bathing suit and other treasures I’d need on board or too valuable to check - contact lens case, hairbrush, a couple of expensive wearable trackers, and the like.
I had just missed a train, but I had time to spare (it was only around 8 am and my flight was scheduled to board a bit before 10). A sign showed the next train due in six minutes. I sat down on a bench to check my email, with barely a moment before the next train came in. I quickly gathered my stuff, including the heavy suitcase, stuffed with books from an AI event in Silicon Valley I had attended over the weekend, and entered a crowded train. At the next stop the train emptied and I found a seat with space to put my backpack and cloth bag down - and realized I had only the suitcase and the backpack. Could I have left it behind? There was no other place it could be. As we entered the next stop, I realized the chances of retracing my steps and finding my bag were low - but better than if I did not even try!
I scrambled off, lugged the suitcase to the other side of the tracks (via escalators, thank goodness), and headed back to the Foggy Bottom station. I wasn’t quite sure where I had been sitting, so I walked from one end to the other - and then a policewoman waved at me. She seemed to be smiling. “We have your bag,” she said as I approached. “Come with me.” I followed her up to the control center (or whatever they call it) and she smiled as she handed me my bag. “Follow me,” she said. “I’ll take you back to the platform.” I didn’t want to invade her privacy (though the modern part of me wanted to take her picture), so instead I asked her how long she had been doing this job. She told me she used to work as a corrections officer, but the work was punishing…. Finally, as she dropped me off where I had started, I asked if I could hug her. Of course she said yes, and as I hugged her I felt warmth and relief and love for this woman I barely knew.
Of all the amazing things that happened during that week of meetings with important people, thought-provoking talks and beautiful musical performances, this is the one that I’ll remember most fondly: inefficient, full of friction, and immensely human. It was not an intellectual discovery, but something much deeper. I hope never to make the same stupid mistake again; it might not turn out so well a second time. But I am so glad that I did make it this time. I’ll never forget the warmth of that hug with a random human being doing her job of being human to someone in distress.
PS - If you happen to recognize this amazing woman, please show her this story. I would love to meet her again. But I also know that there are millions of public servants out there just doing their jobs with dignity and respect - and they deserve respect and gratitude back from those they serve.
Esther Dyson
Author: In Defense of Limits: Human time and AI scale (2027)
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