I keep a device on my wrist that I can’t put away. That’s the whole reason it works.
I’m on medication that needs taking. I have social appointments that I forget about. Ideas that pop into my head while I’m walking around the block. And I’m someone who, given half a chance, will avoid the computer, hide my phone, put off the things I need to do.
I tried everything to fix this. Notebooks. Dictation machines. Anything analog that didn’t require me to be at a desk or glued to a screen. But all of them had the same problem: I had to remember to carry them. Then dig them out of a pocket or a bag. Then remember how to use them. Then find a pen. Then open to the right page. By the time I’d done all that, I’d usually decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
With the Apple Watch, it’s different. I’m choosing to wear it. And it looks good. That matters more than you might think.
Because I chose to wear it – partly because I wanted to, partly because it’s something I actually like having on my wrist – I’m choosing to engage with it every single day. I can’t hide it away like I can a phone or a notebook. It’s there. And because it’s there, I use it. The medication reminders work. The calendar prompts work. When an idea hits me – like last week, walking around the block – I press the button on my wrist, the haptics give me that little tap, and I’m talking into it. The idea’s captured. No friction. No “I’ll remember it later” that I won’t.
I’d written about this before – how I turn those voice notes into blog ideas using a system I’ve built. You can read more about that here if you want the full workflow. The point is, it actually works. I’m managing to blog twice a week now. I’m taking my medication consistently. I’m showing up to social stuff I’d normally find a reason to skip. And I’ve got a running archive of thoughts I’d have lost to the void otherwise.
None of that happens because I suddenly have more willpower or discipline. It happens because the friction is gone. The device is already there. It’s already on. It doesn’t ask me to remember anything except that I chose to wear it this morning.
Here’s the thing about design: we often build for people as they should be, not as they actually are. We assume if the interface is clear enough, people will do the sensible thing. But that’s not how it works for everyone. For some of us, willpower has never been the problem. The problem is having to opt in. Having to remember. Having to dig something out and switch it on.
A better design is one that assumes avoidance and builds around it. Not one that punishes you for being human. The Apple Watch works because I can’t avoid it. And because it looks good enough that I want to wear it anyway.
