When the Tools Start Using Us
You know the feeling. Brow furrowed, fingertip pressed to your temple, staring at a screen that has somehow become the enemy. I’ve been there more times than I can count, usually while wrestling with some app that promised to make my life simpler.
We live surrounded by remarkable tools. We can write, record, design, publish, and talk to people across the world from the kitchen table. A few years ago, much of what I do on this site would have needed a team. Now it needs a laptop, a decent cup of tea, and some patience.
But tools have a funny way of growing beyond their purpose. The calendar meant to organise our time begins to fill it. The phone meant to connect us becomes the thing we check instead of each other. The clever new assistant saves an hour, then quietly asks for two more checking its work.
I don’t think the answer is to throw the laptop out of the window, however tempting that sometimes is. The answer is to stay the one in charge. A tool should serve a purpose you’ve chosen, not invent new purposes for you.
A few questions I’ve started asking myself:
What am I actually trying to do? Before opening any app, naming the task keeps me from drifting. “Reply to three emails” is very different from “open my inbox”.
Is this making the work better, or just faster? Speed is lovely, but not if it means doing things carelessly and fixing them later. Some things deserve the slow way.
Do I trust it, and have I checked? Especially with newer tools, it’s worth reading what they produce with a careful eye. They can be brilliantly useful and confidently wrong in the same breath. The final judgement should always be yours.
When did I last do this by hand? I still keep a paper notebook. Not out of nostalgia, but because my thinking changes when I slow down enough to write in ink. I’ve written more about that line in the difference between assistance and dependence.
The best tools fade into the background and let you get on with living. If a tool is making you frown more than it makes you free, it might be time to put it down, make a pot of tea, and remember what you wanted it for in the first place.