In Praise of Friction and the Case for Getting Out Into the World
From the winding roads of northern India to the pages of our latest issue, our editor-in-chief reflects on why friction, effort and showing up still matter in a world increasingly experienced at a distance
What a month in the skies and on the road. My March began with lunch in New Delhi’s diplomatic enclave. Three weeks later, I find myself on a rather lush piece of Adrian Zecha-sourced real estate in the terracotta-tinted valleys of Rajasthan, where this note is being tapped out. While I’m usually not one to spend so much time in a single place, our team has been giving this corner of the globe a little more attention than usual as we work on something special for later in the year, focused entirely on India. If you have leads, my inbox is always open.
Rewinding to last week, we hosted a group of our most charming readers, as well as some repeat retreaters, for a few days in Chandigarh, exploring one of the country’s most fascinating cities. The Le Corbusier-designed capital looks and functions like few others in India and reminds me, in many ways, of my birthplace, Canberra. For our guests, this intellectually rich journey culminated in a perfect blend of great food, inspiring hosts, superb company and a genuine sense of place, high up in a remote patch of the Himalayas where we took up residence at Amaya (images above and below by Jonathan Leijonhufvud).
The roads to Amaya wind tightly between multi-storey village houses where you frequently find yourself squeezing past buses, motorcycles, trucks and the occasional wandering cow with millimetres to spare. It seems India has collectively decided that horns are a more effective signalling system than indicators, meaning the valley echoes with melodic honks. Getting to Amaya requires patience and a bit of stamina. But friction and, at times, a little discomfort, have their virtues: they sharpen the senses and heighten the reward when the road finally opens out and the landscape falls quiet. Arriving at Amaya after that slow, dusty climb makes the vastness of the place feel earned.
That idea — that effort heightens the pleasure of completion — is something we return to in our new issue, out next week. Issue 42 is a geographically vast affair and, because of that, hides an enormous amount of logistics. Between commissioning our writers and getting our own team out into the world, we’ve gone to great lengths to bring you stories that we’ve witnessed firsthand, on the ground, with our own eyes. While machines can summarise the world, they cannot replace the act of being present in it.
At a time when most of what passes across our screens dissolves almost as quickly as it appears, there remains something reassuring about those who show up in the real world and dedicate their time and energy to making things well. This issue celebrates that instinct: to build something tangible and lasting, to create works that cannot be revised or silently withdrawn when the wind changes direction. It champions work that is serious, permanent and, above all, takes a position. The stories form a portrait of a world that does not necessarily agree on very much, but which thankfully still shares a belief in the value of good design, recognising that debate and disagreement are oftentimes healthy.
Perhaps you ended up somewhere unexpected in your own travels this month, and in doing so learnt something new or met someone interesting. Despite the universal standards that rule global aviation, travel at the moment carries extra unpredictability — a reminder of how quickly the systems we take for granted can falter. All the more reason, then, to leave your comfort zone and go and see how things really work, unfiltered by someone else’s commentary.
Allow us to take you on a tour of the world as it really is. Support your local newsstand, bookstore or library by picking up a copy of our new issue — ask them, they can order it in! — or simply purchase one (or even a box of copies to gift) from us directly. Even better, we welcome your support by taking out an annual membership, which includes a complimentary copy of each issue.
Ready to get out there yourself? Next week, you’ll find us at a dedicated Design Anthology booth at Art Basel Hong Kong. Please drop by and say hello to the team. Looking ahead to April, perhaps we’ll cross paths in Milan as the world’s largest design event convenes in Italy’s commercial capital, or somewhere along the way. The world, for all its unpredictability, remains open to those willing to step into it. See you out there.
Text by Jeremy Smart
Images by Jonathan Leijonhufvud
