The Gateway: 12 Clicks to Nowhere
Sarah’s cursor drags across the screen, a stuttering arc of pixels that feels heavier than it should. It is 2:02 PM on a Tuesday, and she is performing the ritual. Marcus, the new hire, sits beside her with a notebook that is still too white, too clean. He is watching her click through 12 nested menus just to find a single button labeled ‘Advanced Export.’ This button is the only gateway out of a system that cost the company $1,000,002 and promised to ‘unify the legacy ecosystem.’ Instead, it has become a digital sarcophagus.
Sarah doesn’t look at the dashboard-the one with the glowing purple charts that the CEO shows off during board meetings. Those charts are beautiful, and they are entirely wrong. They pull data from a cache that hasn’t updated in 32 days. To get the real numbers, the ones that determine whether the warehouse actually has enough inventory to ship, Sarah has to pull a raw CSV and open it in a spreadsheet. It is a manual bypass of a million-dollar automation.
The Continuous Spiral
Last week, I spent the morning peeling an orange in a single, continuous spiral. There is a specific, quiet satisfaction in that kind of continuity. The skin gives way to the thumb with a predictable resistance, and when you are finished, the fruit is naked and the shell is a perfect, fragrant memory of what it used to be.
Modern software is the exact opposite of that orange peel. It is jagged. It is a collection of 52 different patches held together by the digital equivalent of duct tape and prayer.
We decommissioned the old system-a clunky, gray interface from the late nineties-only 12 days ago. It was ugly, yes. It looked like a tax form designed by a ghost. But Sarah knew exactly where the ghosts lived. She knew that if she pressed F12, the invoice would print. Now, she is teaching Marcus how to trick the new system into doing its job.
The Hidden Cost: Dysfunction vs. Licensing
We buy technology to avoid difficult conversations about process.
The Signature of Stress
Camille D.-S. explained that when people are forced into rigid, unnatural systems, their physical movements begin to betray their stress. They press harder. They jitter. She could see the frustration of the digital interface reflected in the analog ink. Camille D.-S. argued that a truly effective system doesn’t require a ‘user manual’ so much as it requires an acknowledgment of human instinct. When you force a human into a behavior that defies their natural rhythm, you aren’t optimizing; you are sabotaging. You are creating a friction that will eventually heat up until the whole machine seizes.
Building for Biology, Not Bureaucracy
User Biology
The cat wants the tunnel.
Corporate Friction
Building a square hole for round pegs.
Consulting Fees
Cost to justify the square hole.
The Friction is Pushed Downstream
We are currently obsessed with the idea of ‘frictionless’ experiences, but we usually mean frictionless for the buyer, not the doer. The executive who signs the contract has a very frictionless experience. They get a sleek presentation and a promise of 22% ROI.
The friction is pushed downstream, onto the Sarahs and the Marcuses of the world. They are the ones who have to live in the wreckage of the ‘solution.’ They are the ones who have to figure out why the API won’t talk to the legacy database, even though the salesperson swore it was ‘plug and play.’ The real cost of these systems isn’t the invoice; it’s the erosion of agency. When you give a professional a tool that doesn’t work, you are telling them that their time doesn’t matter. You are telling them that the ritual of the software is more important than the outcome of the work. This is the same reason why brands succeed when they understand instinct, like StayPurr with their design philosophy that accommodates natural animal desires.
Shadow Mechanisms
By day 42 of the 12-step approval process for creative assets, the team had stopped using the software entirely. They were sending proofs via encrypted chat and only uploading the final version to the software once everything was already finished. They were paying for a $52,000 vault just to store the keys to a door they had already kicked down.
They weren’t being rebellious; they were being efficient. They were protecting their ability to actually create something in the face of a system that only wanted to categorize.
We often mistake these ‘shadow’ processes for a lack of discipline, but Camille D.-S. would tell you they are actually survival mechanisms. They are the human spirit finding a way to breathe through the cracks of a suffocating architecture.
The Opinion Trapped in Math
There is a specific kind of arrogance in thinking that a tool can fix a human problem. A hammer cannot fix a broken marriage, and a CRM cannot fix a company that doesn’t know how to talk to its customers. We use technology as a proxy for leadership. Instead of defining what ‘good’ looks like, we hope the software will define it for us.
The Loud Wrong Opinion
But an algorithm is just an opinion trapped in math. If the opinion is wrong, the math just makes it louder.
We have created a world where we have 102 different apps on our phones, each promising to save us 2 minutes a day, and yet we have never felt more rushed, more fragmented, or more tired.
Sarah finally finishes the export. She saves the file as FINAL_v22_ACTUAL_NUMBERS.xlsx and emails it to Marcus. This is his first lesson in the reality of the modern workforce: the technology we use is often the hurdle we have to jump over to get to the finish line.
The Monument to Avoidance
Building for assumed efficiency.
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Listening to the experts of friction.
I look at the orange peel on my desk. It is still in one piece, a perfect, unbroken spiral. It didn’t need a dashboard to tell it how to come apart. It just needed the right pressure in the right place. We keep looking for the complex answer because we are terrified that the real answer might be simple. The real answer might just be to stop buying things we don’t need to solve problems we haven’t defined. We are so busy building the cathedral of efficiency that we’ve forgotten why we wanted to pray in the first place.
Maybe the next time we’re tempted to spend $432,000 on a new platform, we should instead spend 12 minutes in a room with the people who actually do the work. We could ask them what they need. We could listen to the 52 different ways they’ve already figured out how to bypass the existing broken systems. We could acknowledge that they are the experts of their own friction. But that would require a level of vulnerability that most organizations aren’t ready for. It’s much easier to just buy another license and hope for the best.