The Intersection of Speed and Proximity

You ever find yourself in bumper-to-bumper traffic? I did this morning on the way to work (read: whatever cafe I fancy). There’s a pattern to it, right? Stop, go, stop, go, stop… it’s almost rhythmic and harmonious in the most annoying of ways. Everyone in line follows the dance, led by some car upfront, each subsequent vehicle pressed right up to the rear of the next for the luxury of moving a few feet further before the next step.

Photo by Jakob Jin

Have you tried breaking the pattern? Instead of playing shadow to the car in front of me this morning, I allowed space between us. I’d gradually raise my right foot off the brake pedal and depress the gas pedal only once my neighboring car gained a little momentum. At that point, my car begins to crawl. And continue crawling. I rarely had to tap the brakes at all once I got going. In effect, I had sacrificed proximity for a smoother ride. I may not be traveling the “fastest” in line, but I was certainly gliding along with a lot less friction.

I find that many things in life are like that. Getting closest to anything comes with a cost, be it financial or consequence. Want the VIP ticket to a concert you’re stoked as heck about? Pony up some extra cash. Want the full story rather than a headline? Just enter your email address. Want up-to-the-second information in your stock ticker? Hand over some account information. Want access to all of today’s televised baseball games? Pick up an ESPN+ subscription.

Proximity and speed are the commodities, the products so to speak. Closer and faster are what’s being sold.

You may have run into the “law of diminishing returns” in some intro-level economics class you took in high school or college. It’s the basis for a large swath of economic theory but in essence, is the “too much of a good thing” principle. It’s what AMPM commercials have been preaching this whole time.

I’m embedding the clip instead of linking it up because it clearly illustrates the “problem” of having too many of what you want (or need). Dude resorted to asking two teens to reach into his front pocket for his wallet because his hands were full, creeper. But buy on, the commercial says, because the implication is that there’s never too much of a good thing, even if it ends in a not-so-great situation chockfull of friction.

The only and only thing I took away from physics in college — besides gravity force being 9.8 m/s² — is that there’s no way to have bigger, cheaper, and faster at the same time. You can take two, but all three cannot play together. For example, you can have a spaceship that’s faster and cheaper, but chances are that it ain’t gonna be bigger than a typical spaceship. If you were to aim for bigger, it’d be a lot less cheap, not only for the extra size but also to make the dang heavy thing go as fast as possible. It’s a good rule in life. I don’t have proof of it, but I’d wager Mick Jagger lives by it, or at least did at one time.

Speed. Proximity. Faster and slower. Closer and further. I’m not going to draw any parallels to web development, UX design, or any other front-end thing. They’re already there.