The gadgetization of simple joys
How activities are losing their simplicity to technology
I recently realized that our technology-obsessed society is increasingly gadgetizing activities that were once uncomplicated. We are turning basic, joyful actions like running into tech-driven, data-tracking events.
This year, I decided to start doing millennials' favorite form of exercise because it would let me avoid memberships; I would do some cardio, which I enjoy, and spend time in nature.
So, I started running twice a week in the park near my apartment with just my AirPods, phone, and keys in a running waist pack, feeling content with the activity's simplicity and effectiveness. No special equipment was needed, and there was no schedule to adapt to.
After my first run, I downloaded the Nike Run Club App. I found it very helpful since it included a six-week plan as a starting point. Plus, it gives you data on your runs: distance, pace, and time. Measuring progress is essential for improvement. So, I started using it for my runs.
My subsequent runs were challenging, but the metrics the app gave me made me feel like I was on a path toward progress. Plus, I tried different kinds of runs: recovery, sprints, long, interval, and fartlek runs. These were new and required me to consult my phone while running, which I realized over time was uncomfortable and dangerous. With that in mind, I started noticing other runners using smartwatches, allowing them to run hands-free.
At that point, I was committed to running and enjoying it. Seeing these gadget-equipped runners led me to believe a smartwatch was the solution to improving my performance. I researched and explored different running watches and bought a Garmin watch.
My watch not only lets me run hands-free but also measures my distance, average heart rate, average pace, total time, total calories and keeps a history. Since buying it, my runs have felt much smoother.
Yet, this purchase took me down a rabbit hole toward a not-so-secret society filled with running equipment, such as water reservoirs, heart rate monitors, GPS-enabled headphones, and compression gear.
The diversity of products created around such a simple activity where one just puts one foot in front of the other overwhelmed me, and my excitement towards running took a hit.
Did I need all that to maintain the habit? Were they required equipment to improve performance?
Suddenly, my runs stopped being about how I felt and became all about whether my pace was faster than before or if the intensity matched or exceeded my last race. One morning, when I was planning on running, I realized my watch did not have enough battery, so I postponed my run because I wouldn’t have data.
Metrics were validating my experience rather than the experience itself.
Simple, enjoyable activities like running are increasingly being “gadgetized”—overcomplicated by technology and data tracking in ways that can detract from their inherent simplicity and joy. While some optimizations can enhance life, many modern gadgets turn basic tasks into overly complex, tech-driven projects.
This trend is part of the broader human condition—our desire to optimize and enhance every aspect of life. However, the tools we use undermine the results we seek, which, in most cases, are enjoyment and simplification.
Sadly, this wasn’t the first time I lost my North. I’ve tried using tools to optimize basic intellectual activities like reading and note-taking without any real benefit.
Goodreads conquered my reading habit a few years ago, adding a layer of pressure to keeping up with reading goals and tracking my reading. Even when I know reading is about the depth of understanding and the experience it brings, not about the number of books or words I read per day, month, and year, I still keep the app updated. I’m basically a prisoner.
Like my reading habit, my writing and note-taking practice also fell once behind unnecessary layers of apps with a steep learning curve that even allowed plugins. (That should have been my red flag). After a while, I realized I had introduced needless layers of difficulty, so I switched to Apple Notes and never looked back.
In the past few years, I have been a victim of constant data tracking, from my steps to my sleep. This has turned life into a series of metrics to analyze and simple activities into unnecessarily complicated ones. This creates a competitive environment, even for activities that should be personal and relaxing.
While optimization is valuable, I must question whether it enhances or overcomplicates my life.
Is this trend inherently bad? Not necessarily. Gadgets can add value, but it's important to remain aware of when they are simplifying life and when they are detracting from the essence of the activity. I should be in control of the technology, not vice versa. The key is understanding my intention behind the activity and ensuring that any tools or gadgets I use serve that purpose. Maybe the best optimization is knowing when to stop enhancing and simply enjoy the activity as it was meant to be—simple and fulfilling.
In the end, it’s not about rejecting all technology but about recognizing that certain activities—like running, reading, or even note-taking—don’t need to be validated through gadgets and data. For me, they are about the simplicity and joy they naturally offer.
Can you think of other gadgets or “optimizations” that defeat or hinder its purpose?
–Catalina
El problema está en pensar que necesitamos gadgets y datos para validar nuestras experiencias y progresos. Buen artículo, Catalina.
God this is so good Catalina! "Metrics were validating my experience rather than the experience itself." Your entire article in the form of personal experience creates very useful distinctions around the use of technology in habit building and life living!