Let people choose the screen, or the room

We built a decade of products on a single assumption: more digital is more progress. Self-service everything. A chatbot instead of a person. An app instead of a conversation. For a lot of people, a lot of the time, that really is better — faster, cheaper, available at 3am.

But somewhere along the way we mistook "often better" for "always better," and quietly took away the choice. That was the mistake. And people are starting to push back.

Screen fatigue is real, and it's a signal

Look at what's selling: dumbphones, digital detox retreats, vinyl, paper books, run clubs, in-person events with waiting lists. It's easy to write this off as nostalgia. It isn't. It's a correction.

When every interaction is a screen, the screen stops being a convenience and starts being a tax. People are tired — not of technology, but of technology being the only door. The backlash isn't anti-digital. It's pro-choice.

The introvert point everyone gets wrong

The lazy assumption is that introverts want digital-only — no humans, no calls, leave me alone. That's not it.

Introverts don't dislike people. They dislike unpredictable, high-friction, draining interaction. A human touch that's warm, low-pressure, and on their terms can be exactly what an introvert wants — the reassurance of a real person without the exhausting dance of a hard sell. And a slick digital path can be exactly what a natural extrovert wants when they're busy and just need it done.

So it was never "personality equals channel." It's context. The same person wants different doors on different days, for different tasks, in different moods. Design for the moment, not the stereotype.

The real mistake is picking a side

There are two camps, and both are wrong. One says digital-first, humans are expensive, automate it all. The other says nothing beats the personal touch, keep it human. They're wrong for the same reason: both remove the choice.

The magic was never digital or physical. It's giving people the option and letting them choose — per moment, per mood, per task. The brand that wins isn't the most automated or the most hands-on. It's the one that reads the situation and offers the right door, then gets out of the way.

Design the choice, not the funnel

• Let someone book online or call a human — and don't punish the phone call with a worse experience than the app.
• Let them self-serve, but make the door to a real person obvious, not buried three menus deep behind "have you tried our help centre?"
• Blend the two. The online order that arrives with a handwritten note. The app that remembers them so the human on the phone doesn't have to ask twice.

The best experiences are honest about their seams: digital where digital genuinely shines — speed, scale, memory, always-on — and human where human shines — reassurance, nuance, judgment, care. You don't hide the join. You design it.

Personal touch is a competitive advantage again

Here's the quiet opportunity. When every competitor has automated everything, a human who actually helps is a shock — the good kind. The personal touch is expensive, and that's precisely why it's a moat. It's hard to copy and impossible to fake at scale.

You don't have to make everything high-touch. You have to make the moments that matter high-touch — the anxious decision, the complaint, the big purchase, the first impression — and let people reach for a human when they want one, without making them feel like they failed a test to get there.

What this looks like in practice

• Offer both, default to neither. Stop assuming.
• Make switching lanes frictionless — digital to human and back, with no penalty and no re-explaining.
• Treat the human channel as premium, not a failure state. The person who calls is not a support cost. They're often your most valuable customer.
• Measure preference instead of guessing it. Watch which door people actually choose, and give them more of it.

Stop asking "how do we digitise this?" Start asking "where does a screen genuinely serve this person, and where does a human?" Then build both doors, and let them walk through the one they want.

The future isn't digital, and it isn't a nostalgic return to analog. It's the customer's choice — designed with enough care that either door feels like the right one.