What if shorter isn't better?

We’re all looking for things to be shorter, faster, easier. In the name of convenience, we have Amazon Prime, Uber, Door Dash, etc. Each of these modern conveniences have significantly contributed to the re-ordering of commerce and connection in our communities. Small businesses struggle in big and small communities because the ease of having food delivered to our doorstep or a package arriving overnight outweighs the effort of shopping locally.

But this effortlessness we seek in all areas of our lives may not be best for us. Sometimes tension, restriction, or friction in a process might be a positive influence in the ultimate outcome we seek.

In our work of data and outcomes measurement, we often hear: 

Can’t we just ask fewer questions?

It’s a reasonable instinct. Staff and clients are stretched thin. Time is scarce. There’s a lot going on in the world today. Recovery is complex. 

But I want to gently and purposefully push back on this instinct.

There’s a new book out called: Friction: A Biography (Jennifer Vail). It makes the case that our cultural obsession with removing friction is a dangerous fantasy. In the physical world, friction is what allows a tire to grip the road, a hand to hold a tool, a match to strike a flame. Remove it entirely and everything slips. Nothing catches. Nothing holds.

The same is true in recovery.

For me 20 years ago, friction meant going to the jail twice a day to do a breathalyzer. I did not have a car. And the jail was nearly 2 miles away. This friction was necessary to slow me down, establish order, and create discipline. Without which, I’m convinced that the cycle of addiction would have gone another round.

If you run an opioid treatment program or outpatient clinic, friction is built into clients coming into the clinic every morning for their dose, or each week for their session.

Are there aspects of that experience that should be efficient and streamlined? Absolutely. But, the entire process should not be optimized for max convenience or to a “shorter is always better” mentality.

The Recovery Capital Index isn’t a screener. It’s not a quick check to sort people into categories. It’s a structured pause — a deliberate moment of friction — that asks someone to look honestly at their life across personal, social, and cultural dimensions. That takes time. And that time is the point.

Behavioral research consistently shows that the act of slowing down to reflect — rather than racing through — produces deeper self-awareness, stronger commitment to change, and more durable outcomes. Self-reflection training has been shown to strengthen resilience more effectively than traditional coping-skills interventions alone. 

The RCI works as it does because the process of answering each statement requires a person to sit with themselves, not skim past themselves.

When we pair the RCI with the Recovery Capital Canvas, we’re creating what I think of as productive friction. It’s not friction that blocks progress. It’s friction that creates traction. The Canvas asks: What stands out? What feels most important? What are you proud of? Those aren’t questions you can rush through and still get value from.

So the next time a client or colleague asks, “Can’t this be shorter?”, try reframing it: “This is your 5-10 minutes every month to take inventory of your life and recovery. Look at not just what’s hard, but what’s strong.”

Recovery capital is built slowly, with deliberation and intention. The RCI honors that. The friction isn’t the obstacle. The friction is where the grip happens.

Want more on this topic … LISTEN to this episode of “On with Kara Swisher”.

Commonly Well partners with behavioral health providers, community organizations, and health systems to conduct rigorous, actionable research that drives real outcomes.

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