I've grown tired of not actually owning the media I pay for. Over the last few years that's pushed me toward buying DVDs and physical books again instead of relying entirely on digital services.
More recently, I discovered digital audio players (DAPs), which promptly sent me down a three-day AuDHD hyperfocus rabbit hole. I learned how to organize a FLAC library, compared budget players, and eventually settled on the HiBy R1.
I've been surprised by how much I enjoy it. (Though, I shouldn't be, I grew up in the age of CD players, MP3 players, and so on. Yes I'm ancient.)
I own my music now instead of renting access to it. I have a device that isn't constantly harvesting my data to feed advertising algorithms. It's dedicated to one thing—listening to music—without competing for my attention every few minutes. And perhaps most importantly, it has physical buttons!! Yes, this model has a touchscreen too, but I can still skip tracks, pause, and restart songs without tapping on a sheet of glass.
Along the same lines, my mom gave me her old DSLR. I'm planning to learn how to use it properly, and I think it fits into the same philosophy.
I really think there is value in a little friction.
Modern smartphones have made nearly everything instantaneous, and while that is undeniably convenient, it also makes many experiences feel strangely disposable. We rarely build music libraries anymore; instead we stream and mindlessly add songs to our "liked songs" playlists. We rarely spend time composing a photograph; we point, tap, and move on. Even entertainment has become something we consume almost automatically with algorithms telling you what short form content to watch next.
When every experience is optimized to remove effort, it can also remove intention.
I'm not arguing against technology, mind you. Technology has made extraordinary things possible. My concern is with how much of it has been designed to maximize engagement, collect data, and monetize attention rather than enrich the experience itself.
Owning the things I care about, using devices built for a specific purpose, and accepting a little more friction in the process has made those experiences feel more deliberate. Ironically, by asking a little more of me, these older or more specialized technologies have made me appreciate them more.
I don't think the solution is necessarily abandoning technology. I think the solution is building a healthier relationship with it; one where we choose how we engage with our devices instead of allowing them to choose for us.













