Convenience is a Culture Killer
The other day, while driving to work, I found myself reflecting on the impact of convenience on culture. It’s something that has been on my mind for a while, and I’ve decided to title these thoughts: Convenience Kills Culture.
It all started with a memory from France. While visiting my grandmother, we passed by an old, broken-down building. She pointed to it and said, “That’s where I used to go wash my clothes.”
My first thought was, You couldn’t wash your clothes at home? It felt like a relic from another time. I imagined the difficulty of that chore and asked her, “Wasn’t it exhausting? Aren’t you glad you have a washing machine now?”
Her response surprised me. She said, “Yes, but I miss going there.”
Intrigued, I asked why. She explained, “Every Wednesday, I would take the kids, and we’d meet the neighbors there. We’d spend half the day chatting, washing clothes, and the kids would play together. It was a community event.”
That made me stop and think. Here’s a technology — modern washing machines — that we associate with freeing people from mundane tasks, yet it comes at a hidden cost. The chore wasn’t just about clean clothes; it was about social interaction, building connections, and fostering a sense of community.
As I reflected on her words, I thought about my own life and how something as simple as doing dishes was, in its own way, a family ritual. Growing up, it was common for us to work together on the dishes after meals. One person would wash, another would rinse and dry. It wasn’t a glamorous task, but it was one of those times when we’d talk — really talk. Being side by side, hands busy, made those conversations feel more natural. It allowed us to connect in ways that we probably wouldn’t have if we had just gone our separate ways after dinner.
Then, I thought about a more recent experience in Dubai during Ramadan. During that time, out of respect for fasting, all water dispensers and beverage services were shut down at work. For the non-fasting employees, they opened a designated coffee room. Normally, coffee was delivered to our desks, but now, we had to go to this room ourselves.
At first, it seemed like an inconvenience. But something incredible happened. Every time I went to get a cup of coffee, I would meet new people — colleagues from different departments whom I had never interacted with. I struck up conversations with AI engineers, social media managers, and others working on projects I had no idea existed in the same building.
That small inconvenience of having to walk to a coffee room turned into an opportunity to connect with people and exchange ideas. It was a reminder that, sometimes, convenience strips us of these unplanned yet valuable interactions.
These examples got me thinking: Is convenience eroding the cultural moments we used to take for granted? We live in a world where we constantly seek convenience. Everything is optimized — food delivered to your doorstep, groceries brought to your door, no need to even wash your own car. Especially in places like Dubai, these conveniences are seen as the ultimate lifestyle perks. But at what cost?
Each time we choose convenience, we might be missing out on opportunities to engage with others and build culture. Inconvenience — whether in the form of washing clothes by hand, doing dishes with family, or getting our own coffee — often creates those moments of connection that convenience erases.
In Japan, for example, schoolchildren are responsible for cleaning their classrooms. It’s a tradition that has persisted despite the fact that many other tasks in schools have been outsourced. While these chores teach students responsibility and independence, I can’t help but wonder if they’re also vital in fostering a sense of community. The students are given a task that occupies their hands but frees their minds to engage in conversation, building bonds through shared effort.
So, does convenience kill culture? I think it can, but I also think there’s an opportunity to design experiences where we choose culture over convenience. We can balance the two — leveraging convenience when necessary but not depending on it entirely. In fact, there’s a way to design deliberate moments of “inconvenience” into our lives, not to make things harder, but to create the spaces where culture and connections can thrive.
Maybe that’s where the future lies — not in eliminating inconvenience, but in recognizing the value it brings to our relationships and our communities.
