In defense of friction

I originally delivered this essay as a member commentary at my synagogue's Rosh Hashanah service on September 11, 2026.

As the 21st century unfolds, it feels like each new technological innovation is marketed to us on the premise that it will make our lives frictionless—that is, it will make our jobs or the tasks of our daily lives easier and quicker, without extra steps or hassle. For example, we can pay our electric bill via an automatic withdrawal from our bank account, instead of mailing in a check. We can stream a movie via Netflix instead of driving to a rental store to peruse shelves of VHS tapes or DVDs. We can consult with our doctor via a video call and then get prescription drugs delivered to our home. Our smart phones give us turn-by-turn directions, no paper maps required.

Celebrating the secular New Year is a similarly frictionless experience. New Year’s Eve celebrations and countdowns are broadcast to our televisions. Our phones and computers automatically flip to 2027. If we’re feeling festive, sparkling wine is on sale at the liquor store, and stores are stocked with New Year’s banners and party supplies. Many of us even get the day off from work to mark the occasion.

As diaspora Jews, celebrating Rosh Hashanah is the opposite of frictionless—it is frictionful. Just figuring out the actual date of the holiday requires some research. A few weeks ago I saw a social media post that joked, “Asking a Jewish person when the high holidays are is like asking a non-Jewish person when the high holidays are. We both have no idea.”  Most of us don’t get a paid holiday off from work to celebrate Rosh Hashanah. Obtaining holiday decorations or a round challah usually requires far more effort than a quick trip to the nearest big box store. 

So why do we bother? As the rest of our lives become more and more frictionless, why do we embrace the friction of Rosh Hashanah?

For many of us, it is about celebrating and honoring Jewish tradition. This holiday is one of our oldest traditions—it is first mentioned in the book of Leviticus as a day of rest marked by the blowing of the shofar. In a tangible way, celebrating Rosh Hashanah is a way for us to continue traditions that tie us to our Jewish ancestors: literal, lineal ancestors for some and spiritual forebears for those of us who are Jews by choice. 

Rosh Hashanah also provides us with an opportunity to be in community. By attending a service in person or virtually, we come together with like-minded people. We can reflect on our shared Humanistic values and strengthen our commitment to tikkun olam—and looking at the current state of the world, there is certainly much to be repaired in 5787.

Finally, Rosh Hashanah’s friction is an invitation to mindfulness and intentionality. The sound of the shofar shakes us from our daily routine and perhaps any ruts that we’ve fallen into. Rosh Hashanah is a chance for a new beginning, an opportunity to reflect on what we want to leave behind with the past year and what we want to carry forward with us into the future.

The friction of Rosh Hashanah isn’t a defect. The friction of Rosh Hashanah is what makes it worthwhile. 

In the spirit of Rosh Hashanah, are there other areas of our lives that could benefit from embracing friction? How can friction help us celebrate what is meaningful to us, be in community, and live in a more thoughtful and intentional way?

Perhaps we could call a loved one on the phone or visit them in person instead of having a conversation through text messages. We could write a thank you note to someone who has impacted our lives in a positive way and send it in the mail. Instead of scrolling through dozens of headlines, we could read an in-depth article from a reputable source to gain a deeper understanding of the underlying issues and broader context. Rather than simply sharing an infographic on social media, we could volunteer for an organization or cause that reflects our Humanistic Jewish values. We could create something ourselves, or pay an artist or a writer for their work, instead of relying on generative AI. We can slow down and celebrate our humanity, resisting the pressures of a capitalistic society that urges us to be as productive and consumeristic as possible.

I’m reminded of a story that the late writer Kurt Vonnegut shared about telling his wife that he was going out to buy one envelope. 

“‘Oh,’ she says, ‘Well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet?’ And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And ask a woman what kind of dog that is…The moral of the story is we’re here on Earth to fart around.”

May 5787 be filled with the kind of friction that gives our lives joy and meaning—that friction is what being human is all about.