Avni Patel Thompson, a tech innovator, initially set out to create an app that would shield busy parents from the constant chaos of family logistics. However, as her product, Milo, developed, she began to question what might be lost when AI completely smooths over the everyday friction of family life. Her surprising discovery led her to explore how AI can actually help us connect more deeply with our loved ones.
The Daily Grind of Family Life
Life with kids can be a bit of a whirlwind. Imagine this: you're deep in work, headphones on, in the zone. Then, a ding. It's the nanny, asking for a day off. You tell yourself you'll get back to her later. You pop into your email for something else and suddenly, you're swamped with six basketball emails, rehearsal schedules, and a field trip notice. You try to ignore them, telling yourself you won't forget. But then, another ding. It's the nanny again, at the school, but no one's there. Panic sets in. You scramble, trying to figure out what day it is, what time, where rehearsal is supposed to be. You find the email, buried in the details, a tiny note saying today's rehearsal is in the music room, not the gym. This kind of chaos is a regular occurrence for many parents.
Avni, with two kids and two jobs, found her brain had become the central computer for her family's entire operation. This made collaboration almost impossible because everything was stuck in her head. She realised she needed a better system.
The Quest for a Force Field
As a scientist and product designer, Avni was used to finding small points of friction and building solutions. Parenthood, she realised, was the "friction Olympics." She wanted a machine, a force field, to intercept every interruption, something more organised and capable than she could ever be. If her brain was acting as the computer, why not use an actual computer?

Her first attempts failed. No matter how much detail she put in, there was always something unexpected, like a five-year-old's sudden allergy to square-shaped foods. But then, three years ago, large language models changed things. AI could handle incomplete information. It could take a birthday party invite and not just put it on the calendar, but also remind her to buy a present or check for conflicts. This led to Milo, an AI sidekick for parents, designed to manage school newsletters, grocery lists, and library books, and then tell everyone what's happening.
The Unexpected Discovery: Not All Friction is Bad
With Milo handling the repetitive tasks, Avni, being human, wanted more. Why couldn't Milo coordinate playdates or even suggest ways to resolve arguments between her daughters? Her investors were excited, suggesting Milo could text sitters automatically, send birthday wishes to friends, or even suck up all teacher emails so she'd never have to see one again.
But as they developed these features, something felt off. Avni was trying to eliminate friction, but this felt wrong. The answer came one evening when her daughter showed her something she'd made in art class. To connect two pieces of clay, you have to score them, creating resistance so they can grip each other. This is called productive friction, and it creates connection.
Key Takeaways
Productive friction is valuable because it creates connection.
Meaningful interactions are often disguised as inefficiencies.
A "permeable" force field is better than a perfectly solid one.
AI can help us choose what is most meaningful and create space for us to do it ourselves.
Avni realised she didn't need a perfectly solid force field, but a permeable one. One that shielded her from unproductive tasks but let in the fewer, messier, more meaningful ones. Milo could find three times for a playdate, but Avni could text the other parent, giving her a chance to ask about their mother. Milo could comb through school newsletters for details, but leave a note from a teacher about her daughter's creative writing blossoming.

Everyone's line for what AI should handle will be different, and it might change depending on circumstances. Some weeks, when life is particularly chaotic, you might want a force field visible from space. But the point is, we now have technology that can tell the difference between tasks we need help with and work that, though hard, is ours to do.
AI's most radical ability might not be doing things faster, but pushing us to choose what is most meaningful and then making space for us to do it ourselves. This new world encourages us to be unfinished and evolving, reminding us not to be afraid of the friction that shows us how beautifully, imperfectly, and inconveniently human we all are.