Why We Still Choose to Do Things Ourselves [Raw Session]

00:00 — When Optional Things Still Matter

Hey, welcome back to Slow Builds.

This one goes along with the utility videos I’ve been doing. It’s the other side of the conversation.

The last couple videos were about the idea that more and more things are becoming optional. Shopping comes to us now. Food comes to us. Groceries come to us. Work can happen through a laptop. You do not need to physically be anywhere. Meetings happen through Zoom or Teams. Maybe eventually transportation becomes something we access instead of something we personally own.

But there is another side to all that.

Just because something becomes optional does not mean people stop doing it.

Sometimes they keep doing it. And sometimes, once something becomes optional, it becomes clearer why they were doing it in the first place.

That is the part I keep coming back to.

When something is mandatory, you do not always know if people actually value the thing itself, or if they are just doing it because life requires them to do it.

But once the obligation disappears, the reason changes.

If you still do something after you no longer have to, then maybe there is something inside the act itself that matters to you.

That is what I want to get at with this video.

The things we still choose to do ourselves.

Not because they are always efficient. Not because they are always logical. Not because there are no alternatives that accomplish the same goal.

But because the physical version, the slower version, the human version still gives us something.

And I think that is going to matter more as life gets more automated.

The question will not only be:

What can technology do for us?

The question will also be:

What do we still want to do ourselves?

01:58 — Grocery Shopping and Hidden Preference

A simple example is grocery shopping, because grocery shopping is becoming optional for a lot of people.

Not everywhere. Definitely not perfectly. But more than it used to be.

You can order groceries online. Someone can pick them up for you and drop them off. It saves time. Depending on what it is, it can save money. It avoids the hassle of stores, possible accidents, gas, and all kinds of things it removes from your life.

And for some people, that is genuinely helpful.

If you are busy, sick, elderly, disabled, overwhelmed, or just need a break, delivery can be a real support.

I am not against that at all. I do not do it much myself, but I have used it.

But I also understand why some people still want to go themselves.

My wife is the perfect example of this. For certain things, she still wants to pick the food herself. And I fall into this category too.

The point is basic.

They do not know how I like my food. They do not know what produce I would pick. They do not know what substitutes I would choose. They do not know which brand is okay if one is not available.

Sometimes something technically matches the order, but it is still not really what I wanted.

And she is right.

Sometimes you get there and change your mind. You see something. You see a sale. You change what you want to make that day or the next day.

That is not stubbornness.

It is preference. Judgment. Taste. Experience.

The grocery app can know the item, but it may not know the decision behind the item.

It may know bananas, but it does not know how ripe I want them.

That is the part that is hard to automate.

The task looks simple from the outside: get food and put it in the house.

But inside the task are hundreds of tiny preferences, tiny judgments, and tiny decisions you make without thinking.

And when someone else does it for you, you start to notice how much judgment was hidden inside it.

I think that is probably true for a lot of things.

We think the task is simple until we hand it to someone else.

04:20 — Utility Versus Ritual

That is the difference between a utility and a ritual.

A utility is about the result.

A ritual is about the experience.

If I need food in the house, grocery delivery can solve that.

That is utility.

Food arrives.

But if I want to pick the food myself, walk the aisles, say hi to people, see what looks good, and check the sales, that is different.

That is ritual.

That is not only about groceries. It is about participation.

And I think a lot of modern convenience misses this distinction.

It assumes the result is the whole point.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes the result really is all that matters.

If I need toilet paper, I do not need a meaningful experience. I just need toilet paper.

If I need batteries, I probably do not need to wander through the aisles and reflect on life and which batteries are best. I just need batteries to get the flashlight or remote working.

But not everything works like that.

Some things carry more human weight than the task suggests.

Food is probably the easiest example, but I think the same thing shows up in driving, going to the office, going to the market, or sitting in a restaurant instead of ordering food.

Those things are not only about acquiring the thing.

They are about the surrounding experience.

That is why making something efficient does not automatically make it better.

It depends what part you are trying to preserve.

If the goal is only the outcome, efficiency usually wins.

But if the experience matters, efficiency can strip something away from it.

05:53 — Weekend Markets and Useful Friction

Weekend markets are probably another great example of this.

Most people do not go to a weekend market because it is the only possible way to get vegetables.

They go because it feels good to go.

You walk around, look at things, see people, say hi, touch the produce, talk to vendors, get a coffee or a treat, buy something you did not plan on, and support local.

There is something social in it. Something physical. Something local. Something inefficient in a good way.

And that is the point.

If the only goal is food, the market is probably not the most efficient way to go about it.

But if the goal is getting out, seeing people, being in your community, and having small rituals, then efficiency is not the main measurement.

That is the hard thing to preserve in a world that wants to optimize everything.

Because optimization usually asks:

How do we make this faster?

How do we remove friction?

How do we remove all the steps?

How do we make it a single tap?

Those are useful questions, but they are not the only questions.

Sometimes the better question is:

What was the friction doing?

Was it only wasting time?

Or was it creating contact?

Was it creating movement?

Was it creating small decisions?

Was it creating a reason to leave the house?

Was it creating memories?

Because once you remove the friction, you might remove more than the inconvenience.

You might remove the reason people like the thing.

A market is not better because it is efficient.

It is better because it is not only a transaction.

It is a place that matters.

07:28 — Restaurants Are Not Just Food

It is also why restaurants and food delivery are not the same thing.

Food delivery is useful.

There are nights where it makes complete sense. You are tired, busy, do not have time to cook, do not know what to cook, or just do not want to go anywhere.

The food comes to you.

Great.

But going to a restaurant is not only food.

It is leaving the house. Sitting somewhere. Trying something new. Being served. Hearing the room. Talking to other people. Having a conversation that feels different because you are not sitting at your own kitchen table.

You are out among other people.

Delivery solves hunger.

A restaurant can create an experience.

Those are related, but they are not identical.

And I think this is where a lot of replacement conversations go wrong.

People ask:

Why go to the restaurant if you can get the food delivered?

Why go to the store if you can order online?

Why go to the office if you can join a Zoom meeting?

Why drive if a vehicle can take you?

Now we are getting into Tesla self-driving and robotaxis.

But those questions are incomplete because they assume the official purpose is the full purpose.

The official purpose of a restaurant is food.

But the human purpose might be connection.

The official purpose of a market is buying goods.

But the human purpose might be ritual, conversation, interaction, and socializing.

The official purpose of driving is transportation.

But the human purpose might be freedom, control, enjoyment, privacy, identity, going on long drives, or going somewhere without having to plug in your destination.

Maybe it is just driving for the sake of driving.

The official purpose of the office is work.

But the human purpose might be trust, mentorship, social contact, social context, or in my case, pair coding.

If you are sitting with someone, it is a lot easier to talk through a programming problem or walk through a possible new feature when you are with the person in the room and can see how they see it.

That is different than talking through video like I am doing right here.

So when we replace the official purpose, we do not always replace the human purpose.

And that is the gap.

09:56 — The Office After Remote Work

The office is a great example.

Zoom and Teams made a lot of office presence optional.

Not all of it. Not for every job. But for many knowledge workers, the office stopped being the only place work could happen.

Files are online. Meetings, messages, code, documents, calendars — work moved into the network.

And for a lot of people, that was a huge improvement.

Less commuting. More flexibility. More time with family. More time at home. Less stress. More control over your day. Less wasted office performance.

There is a lot of time wasted driving back and forth, stopping, taking breaks, and just moving around the old system.

But that does not mean the office has no value.

If the work can happen anywhere, then going to the office has to be about something more than access to a desk.

It might be about mentorship, trust, reading the room, hard conversations, team identity, onboarding, creative friction, casual conversations that do not happen in scheduled calls, or feeling like you are part of something.

Those things are harder to measure.

But they are real.

And I think this is the same pattern again.

When the office was mandatory, people went because they had to.

Once it became optional, the reason had to become more honest.

Are you going because there is real value in being together with your coworkers?

Or are you going because someone is trying to recreate the old system?

That is a very different question.

And I think a lot of companies are struggling with that right now because they are trying to bring back the obligation instead of understanding the ritual.

They are saying:

Be here because this is where work happens.

But for many workers, that is no longer true.

So the office has become something else.

Less mandatory infrastructure. More intentional gathering place.

And if it cannot become that, people will resist it.

Because once people experience optional, it is hard to go back to mandatory without being given an actual good reason.

12:06 — Driving When Transportation Becomes Optional

Driving works the same way.

The official purpose of driving is transportation.

You need to get somewhere, so you drive.

That is the basic utility.

But for a lot of people, driving is more than transportation.

It is control. Independence. Privacy. Music. Being alone. Clearing your head. Road trips. Your first car.

For me, the old truck.

It is the sound. The feeling of operating something physical. The habit of getting in and going.

So if robotaxis or autonomous transportation make driving optional, that does not mean driving disappears.

It means driving changes categories.

For some people, it becomes unnecessary.

For others, it becomes more meaningful.

Because now they are not driving only because the world requires it.

They are driving because they want the experience.

That is why I think the horse comparison kind of works here.

Horses did not disappear. They just stopped being the default transportation.

They became sport, recreation, lifestyle, identity, work in specific contexts, and maybe nostalgia.

Cars may go through something like that.

Not completely. Not everywhere. Not for everyone.

But for enough people, the meaning changes.

Some people will still own vehicles because they need them: rural people, tradespeople, families, and people in places where alternatives do not work.

But some people will own vehicles because they love them: collectors, enthusiasts, people who love old trucks, working on engines, manual transmissions, motorcycles, and the control.

Some people will not own vehicles at all because what they wanted was never the car.

It was mobility.

That distinction matters.

Some people love driving.

Some people just need to get somewhere.

When driving becomes optional, we find out which is which.

13:55 — When the Human Version Becomes Premium

There is also something interesting about human service in all of this.

We usually think automation makes the robot the premium thing.

The robot assistant. The robot driver. The autonomous system.

But sometimes, once automation becomes normal, the human version becomes a luxury.

Mass-produced clothing made clothes cheaper, but handmade clothing became premium.

Processed food made food easy, but chef-prepared food became premium.

Digital photos became unlimited, but film photography became aesthetic.

Automation does not always destroy the old thing.

Sometimes it turns the old thing into status.

So maybe one day robotaxis are normal. They are the utility layer: cheap, available, practical.

But a human driver becomes expensive.

Not because a human is better at every driving decision, but because the human provides something else.

Discretion. Judgment. Conversation. Security awareness. Help. Running errands. Reading the situation. Knowing your preferences. Being accountable.

A robot can move you.

A human can understand the day.

And that is probably true in other areas too.

AI can answer questions, but sometimes people still want a human advisor.

Delivery can bring food, but sometimes you still want to go to the restaurant.

Remote work handles the meetings, but sometimes just being around other people makes a big difference.

Automation can handle the utility.

But the human layer still has value.

The question is where that value is real and where it is just nostalgia.

Because not every old way deserves to survive.

Some things were only done manually because there was no better option.

But some things had value inside the manual part.

And we need to be able to tell the difference.

15:44 — Not Every Old Way Was Better

That is probably the hardest part, because it is easy to romanticize the old way.

It is easy to pretend everything was better when people did everything themselves.

But that is not true.

A lot of the old way was inefficient.

A lot of it was exhausting.

A lot of it excluded people.

A lot of it wasted time.

And a lot of it was only manageable because someone else was doing invisible labor.

So I do not want to say we should do everything ourselves.

That is not realistic.

I do not even think it is desirable.

Convenience can be good.

Automation can be good.

Delivery is great.

Remote work is awesome.

Autonomous transportation is going to change the world.

These things can give people access, time, safety, and flexibility.

The problem is not that things become easy.

The problem is when we stop noticing what disappears with the difficulty.

The store trip was not only a store trip.

The office was not only your desk.

The drive was not only the distance.

The market was not only about getting vegetables.

And the restaurant was not only about eating or consuming calories.

Some of those things carried structure, contact, movement, control, and meaning.

And if we remove them, we may need to replace those things intentionally.

That is the part I think we underestimate.

We are very good at asking:

Can this be made easier?

We are less good at asking:

What did the harder version give us?

Sometimes the answer is nothing.

Sometimes the harder version was just worse.

But sometimes the answer is that it gave us a reason to leave the house.

It gave us contact with people, movement, control, pride, a memory, an experience, a sense of participation in the world, and gratitude.

Those things matter, even if they are inefficient.

17:42 — VR and the Body Layer

This also connects to VR in a way.

For a while, there was this idea that virtual reality could replace physical experiences: vacations, meetings, events, virtual worlds.

Some of that is useful.

VR can show you a place. It can let you preview something. It can make inaccessible experiences more accessible. It can create things that cannot exist physically. It can be educational. It can be fun.

I have been using the Meta again lately because I wanted to try some of these things.

But it does not fully replace being there.

Seeing a beach is not the same as being on the beach.

Seeing a city is not the same as walking through the streets and smelling the air.

Seeing people is not the same as feeling like you are with them.

There is a body layer that technology has a hard time replacing.

Smell. Weather. Temperature. Tiredness. Randomness.

Randomness is a big one.

And I think this helps explain the broader point.

Technology can replace information more easily than it replaces experience.

It can show us things. It can deliver things. It can simulate them. It can automate them.

But that does not always mean it gives you the same human value.

Sometimes the value is in the inconvenience, in the body, in the place, in the people, and in the fact that you actually went there.

That is why vacations do not become obsolete just because you can see beautiful places on a screen.

And it is why a lot of physical life will probably survive automation.

Not because it is efficient.

Because it feels different.

19:17 — Utility Version and Ritual Version

The more I think about this, the more I think the future splits a lot of things into two versions:

The utility version and the ritual version.

The utility version is about getting the result.

The ritual version is about doing the thing.

Grocery delivery is utility.

Going to the store and picking it out yourself is ritual.

Same with going to the office, going to a restaurant, driving, shopping, and all these things.

AI assistance is the utility.

Thinking something through yourself may still be the ritual.

And I do not mean ritual in a religious way.

I mean it is a repeatable action that carries meaning beyond the result.

Something that gives shape to life.

It makes you feel involved.

Sometimes it connects you to your body, your place, or other people.

The danger is that if we only optimize utility, we may flatten everything.

Things become faster, easier, and more available.

But not everything becomes better.

Because better depends on what you were actually trying to get.

If you only wanted the object, delivery might be better.

If you wanted the experience, delivery is incomplete.

That is the distinction.

20:24 — What Do I Still Want To Do Myself?

This is where the question becomes personal.

What do I still want to do myself?

Not what should everyone do.

Not some universal rule.

Just what is still worth doing manually in my own life?

Maybe I still want to bike to return something because the errand gives me a reason to move.

Maybe I want to go to the market because it gets me out of the house.

My wife wants to pick certain groceries because she has preferences.

Someone else might still want to write, think, build, or learn manually even though AI can help.

That might become more important, not less.

Because as more things become optional, we need to decide what kind of person we become when nobody is forcing the old habits on us.

If I do not have to move, do I still move?

If I do not have to go out, will I leave the house?

If I do not have to learn the skill, will I intentionally try to learn new skills?

Same with talking to people.

If I do not have to do the slower thing, is there still a reason I would?

Those are not only technology questions.

They are life questions.

21:34 — When Obligation Goes Away

I do not think the future is that we stop doing things.

I think the future is that more things stop being mandatory.

And in many ways, that is good.

But it also means we have to be more intentional because obligation used to make some decisions for us.

The errand made us leave the house.

The grocery trip made us walk around.

The commute made us move through the city.

The office made us see people.

The store made us wait.

The car made us learn a skill.

The market made us interact with someone.

Not all of that was good.

But not all of it was meaningless either.

When the obligation goes away, we often get freedom.

But we also lose some of the structure that came with it.

And then we have to decide what to keep.

That is the part I do not think we talk about enough.

We focus on what technology removes: the errand, the commute, the wait, the manual process, the friction.

But that might be where the honest answer is.

Because if you still do something when it is optional, maybe that is a clue.

Maybe it is not just a task.

Maybe it is a ritual, a connection, a preference.

Maybe it is health.

22:40 — Convenience Is Not the Enemy

So I think that is where I land on this.

Convenience is not the enemy.

Automation is definitely not the enemy.

Delivery, remote work, robotaxis — they are not the enemy.

But none of those things are neutral either.

They change the default.

And when the default changes, behavior changes.

When groceries can come to you, grocery shopping becomes a choice.

Same with food and restaurants.

Same with the laptop and the office.

Same with transportation and driving around.

And once something becomes a choice, we need to ask why we still do it.

Maybe we stop.

Maybe that is fine.

Maybe we keep doing it.

Maybe that tells us something.

Maybe the slower version still matters.

Maybe the human version still matters.

Maybe the inefficient version still matters.

Not always.

Not for everything.

But for some things.

And that is probably going to be one of the strange parts of the future.

Not deciding what technology can replace, but deciding what we still want to preserve.

Not because we have to.

Because something about doing it ourselves still keeps us human.

It keeps us involved in the process.

It keeps us part of life.

Alright, thanks for watching.

Bye.