Designing for Friction
In a world high on speed and dopamine, friction gets treated like a bug. So, in defence of speed bumps: why friction belongs in good design.
One time, I tried to delete my Notion workspace.
Not archive. Not hide. Delete.
I clicked the little “Settings & Members” cog, scrolled to the bottom, and was met with an alarming string of prompts:
“Are you sure?”
“Type the workspace name to confirm.”
“This action cannot be undone.”
I sighed. Not because it was annoying — though it kind of was — but because I knew exactly why those steps existed. I’d seen users rage about “accidental deletions.” I’d read the support tickets. I’d been the support ticket.
This wasn’t bad UX. This was intentional friction. A speed bump to remind me: “Hey. You’re about to set something on fire. Still sure?”
And I was. But I appreciated being asked.
We’ve Been Told Friction is a Failure
In the current cult of seamlessness, friction is a dirty word. We speak in tongues of “effortless onboarding,” “zero-click flows,” and “removing barriers to conversion.” Our toolkits are full of ways to smooth, polish, and auto-magically guess the user’s next move.
But somewhere in the drive to eliminate every bump, we forgot something fundamental:
Not every bump is bad.
Sometimes, that bump is the thing that keeps us from driving off a cliff.
Why Friction Matters
Designing friction isn’t about making things hard. It’s about knowing when things shouldn’t be too easy.
Here’s when it actually serves a purpose:
The action is irreversible.
Closing a bank account. Deleting an email thread. Transferring your entire salary to the wrong account. Once it’s done, there’s no Command+Z.The action has financial or legal consequences.
“Confirm withdrawal.” “Digitally sign this NDA.” “Place non-refundable order.”The action is emotionally significant.
Not “Unfollow,” not “Block,” but “Remove from Close Friends”. That little green ring meant something once.
Friction creates a pause. A breath. A tiny ceremony.
It gives the moment weight.
The Models Have Been Trying to Tell Us
Let’s talk frameworks. Because what’s a design essay without diagrams and academic name-dropping?
Norman’s Slips vs Mistakes
Don Norman — bless his grumpy soul — differentiates between slips (accidental actions) and mistakes (bad decisions).
Friction helps prevent both. A “Confirm” button is there so you don’t slip.
A brief warning message is there so you don’t make a mistake.
We don’t need to guess user intent. We can ask.
Speed Bumps in the Wild
Urban design figured this out long ago: Want drivers to slow down? Add speed bumps. Not barriers — just enough resistance to say, “Pay attention.”
Now imagine every app was a city, and every critical user flow had a few gentle speed bumps. How much calmer, safer, more intentional would it feel?
Speed bumps don’t ruin roads.
They save lives.
The Difference Between Manipulation and Care
Here’s where it gets tricky.
Dark patterns also use friction — but to trap the user.
Ethical friction, on the other hand, protects the user.
The difference isn’t in the interface. It’s in the intent.
Let me repeat that.
The difference isn’t in the interface. It’s in the intent.
Patterns That Use Friction Well
Double-confirmation flows: “Are you sure you want to delete this?” is not just a cover-your-ass move. It’s user-centred design.
Time delays: Calendly waits 2 seconds before confirming a deleted invite. Enough to go “Oops!” and cancel if needed.
Just-in-time education: Slack doesn’t show you a tutorial. It explains what happens right before you archive a channel.
Ritualised exits: Type DELETE in all caps. Say goodbye to your account. Make it a little dramatic. That’s okay. Drama = memory.
What Happens When You Remove All Friction
You speed things up, yes. But you also:
Increase regret clicks.
Make serious actions feel cheap.
Blur the line between easy and thoughtless.
Replace intentionality with… well, muscle memory.
And you wonder why people don’t trust your product.
Common Pushbacks (and Why They’re Lazy)
“But users want speed.”
Sure. They also want safety, clarity, and not waking up at 3 AM wondering if they just unsubscribed from their tax filing service.
“We’ll lose conversions!”
Then maybe your conversion wasn’t built on trust, just haste. Maybe the thing you’re trying to convert them into isn’t something they actually want.
Friction doesn’t kill intent — it reveals it. Friction reveals user hesitation. Don’t be afraid of that.
When Friction Becomes Punishment
Let’s be clear: not all friction is good friction.
Multi-step tooltips that gate every screen? Annoying.
Login flows that require a CAPTCHA, OTP, security question, and your firstborn? Infuriating.
Modals that appear when you try to leave? Just manipulative.
Good friction is like good parenting.
It sets boundaries, not traps. It doesn’t stop you. It just asks if you’re sure.
So What’s the Point?
The point is this:
Not every UX problem needs to be solved with more speed, more delight, or more automation.
Some need to be solved with a pause. A prompt. A moment to mean it.
Friction, when designed with care, is a form of respect.
Because some decisions shouldn’t be frictionless.
They should be felt.
Frictionless = emotionless.
And humans are not spreadsheets. We need moments to pause, feel, and choose.
Want a practical checklist at the end? I can write one.
But maybe this one should end the way a good interaction does —
With an “Are you sure?”
Further Reading
The Design of Everyday Things – Don Norman
Norman’s Slips vs Mistakes - Page Laubheimer
The $300 Million Button – Jared Spool
The Laws of Simplicity – John Maeda
On Bullshit – Harry Frankfurt