Technology critic and author Ian Bogost argues that one of the greatest losses of the digital age is not privacy, attention, or productivity—it is our connection to the physical world. In a recent discussion surrounding his new book The Small Stuff, Bogost suggests that modern life has become increasingly “dematerialized,” replacing rich sensory experiences with frictionless digital interactions. Rather than proposing a rejection of technology, he encourages people to rediscover the value of ordinary physical experiences that have quietly disappeared from everyday life.
Bogost describes dematerialization as the gradual replacement of tangible interactions with automated, digital, or abstract alternatives. Over the past two decades, many everyday activities have migrated to smartphones, cloud services, and automated systems. Ordering food, navigating cities, paying bills, unlocking doors, and even flushing public toilets increasingly require little or no direct interaction with physical objects. While these changes have undoubtedly improved convenience, they have also reduced many of the sensory experiences that once characterized daily life.
One of the book’s central arguments is that convenience always carries a hidden cost. Automatic transmissions replaced manual gear shifts, streaming services replaced physical media, touchscreens replaced mechanical buttons, and automated kiosks replaced face-to-face interactions. Each innovation removed small amounts of friction from daily routines, but collectively they also removed opportunities to engage with the physical world through touch, sound, texture, and movement. Bogost argues that these seemingly insignificant losses accumulate over time, subtly changing how people experience their surroundings.
Importantly, Bogost does not advocate abandoning technology or romanticizing the past. He acknowledges that digital services, automation, and modern conveniences have improved quality of life in countless ways. Instead, his concern is that society has focused almost exclusively on efficiency while paying little attention to what has been sacrificed in the process. The goal is not to reject progress but to recognize that convenience and experience often exist in tension with one another.
Rather than framing the issue as another broad critique of Silicon Valley or capitalism, Bogost adopts a more personal perspective. He argues that individuals do not need to wait for sweeping political or technological reforms to reconnect with the material world. Simple activities—repairing household items, cooking from scratch, driving a manual car, gardening, woodworking, knitting, or even paying closer attention to ordinary physical interactions—can restore a sense of engagement that many people have gradually lost.
Bogost’s ideas resonate with a growing cultural movement that questions whether relentless optimization always improves human experience. Digital platforms have successfully removed countless inconveniences from everyday life, yet many people simultaneously report feelings of digital fatigue, disconnection, and sensory monotony. Smartphones now function as wallets, maps, televisions, ticket offices, cameras, communication devices, and shopping malls, consolidating dozens of previously distinct experiences into a single glass screen. While highly efficient, this consolidation can flatten the richness of everyday interactions.
His observations also intersect with broader discussions about artificial intelligence. As AI continues to automate writing, programming, design, customer service, and decision-making, similar questions arise about which aspects of human activity should remain intentionally hands-on. Automation can dramatically improve productivity, but it may also reduce opportunities for creativity, craftsmanship, and direct engagement with the physical environment. Bogost suggests that maintaining these experiences is important not because technology is inherently harmful, but because human satisfaction often comes from participation rather than pure efficiency.
The conversation ultimately challenges a long-standing assumption within the technology industry: that eliminating friction is always desirable. Many forms of friction are genuinely frustrating and worth removing, but others contribute meaning, learning, and enjoyment to everyday life. Activities that require patience, skill, or physical interaction often become memorable precisely because they are not instantaneous or effortless.
As artificial intelligence and automation continue reshaping work and daily routines, Bogost’s perspective offers a timely reminder that technological progress should not be measured solely by speed or convenience. Preserving opportunities for tangible, sensory experiences may prove just as important as developing the next generation of digital tools. In an increasingly virtual world, the “small stuff” may ultimately play a significant role in maintaining a richer and more satisfying human experience.