The Things We Quietly Stopped Doing

And What May Quietly Disappear Next

The other day I realized there are a surprising number of things I simply don’t do anymore.

Not because I made a conscious decision to stop doing them. They just quietly disappeared from my life as technology made them unnecessary.

Some changes happened so gradually that I hardly noticed until I started making a list.

I no longer buy printer cartridges. My printer keeps track of how much ink it uses and automatically orders replacements before I run out.

I no longer have to remember when to refill most of my prescriptions. My online pharmacy knows what medications I take and how often I should need them. When it’s time for a refill, I receive a notice and, with one click, the order is placed. I remain in control, but I don’t have to remember all the details.

I haven’t walked inside a bank for years. Cash comes from an ATM when I need it. Most deposits are automatic. Bills are paid online. On the rare occasion something unusual comes up, I can usually take care of it from my computer.

I rarely use a travel agent anymore. That transition was easier than most because my wife spent nearly twenty years as a travel professional. Today she arranges airline reservations, hotels, rental cars, and just about everything else online. If something unusual comes up, a phone call or online message usually takes care of it.

I don’t balance a checkbook anymore. In fact, some younger people have never even used one. Financial software keeps track of checking accounts, credit cards, investments, cash flow, and spending. Programs like Quicken can show where our money is going almost instantly. What once took an evening at the kitchen table now takes only a few minutes.

Even going to the movies has changed. My daughter usually buys the tickets on her phone before we arrive. She orders the popcorn and drinks ahead of time as well. About the only thing left for me to do is buy dinner afterward.

None of these changes happened overnight.

Some evolved over many years. Others became commonplace in only a few months. Individually they seemed minor. Collectively they have changed the rhythm of everyday life.

What’s remarkable is that I accepted every one of these changes without giving it much thought. None of them felt revolutionary. Each one simply made life a little easier. Looking back, however, they have quietly changed how I spend my time and what I no longer have to think about.

What’s interesting is that these services no longer wait for us to ask.

My printer knows when it needs ink.

The pharmacy knows when a prescription should be renewed.

The bank keeps track of payments and when they are due. In many cases the payments are simply made. In others, I receive a reminder that it’s time to approve the payment.

Streaming services know what kinds of movies I enjoy and present suggestions I might like.

Little by little, software, automation, and increasingly artificial intelligence have shifted from simply responding to our requests to quietly helping manage routine parts of our lives.

It made me wonder what comes next.

Suppose I created a basic grocery list consisting of the things we buy over and over again: milk, cheese, bread, coffee, toothpaste, and cleaning supplies.

A shopping service could easily learn how quickly we use those items and automatically prepare an order before we run out. It could suggest products we’ve purchased before or present a short list of alternatives based on what we’ve chosen in the past.

For less routine purchases, the process could become an intelligent shopping assistant. Instead of spending an hour comparing prices, shipping costs, delivery dates, and customer reviews, the software could do the research and present a few well-reasoned recommendations. The final decision would still be mine, but the tedious part would largely disappear.

The same system could check our budget, verify that sufficient funds were available, compare prices among stores, and even recognize that a large insurance payment or vacation was coming up next month. Instead of simply asking, “Can I buy this?” it could also ask, “Should I buy this now?” I would still make the final decision, but much of the routine analysis would already be done.

None of this requires science fiction. Most of the individual pieces already exist. They simply haven’t been assembled into the seamless experience that many companies are working toward.

Not everyone would welcome that future, but many people would benefit.

For older adults, routine errands often become more difficult long before we are ready to give up our independence. Carrying groceries, driving across town for small purchases, remembering recurring orders, or standing in long checkout lines eventually become more work than they once were. Automating those routine tasks could help many people remain independent longer.

Busy families would benefit for different reasons. They are not trying to simplify retirement; they are trying to find another hour in an already overcrowded day.

Caregivers may benefit even more. When you’re helping an aging parent or a spouse with health issues, every routine task that can safely take care of itself becomes one less thing to remember and one less errand that requires leaving the house.

Of course, every convenience has a tradeoff.

If more shopping moves online, we lose some of the small experiences that shopping once provided. Browsing through TJ Max without looking for anything in particular. Walking through Costco or Home Depot and discovering something unexpected. Running into neighbors. Even a quick errand occasionally became a social activity.

Several of our friends have moved into independent living communities. They’ve made new friends and generally enjoy where they live. But one comment comes up repeatedly whenever we get together.

They miss seeing their old friends.

Technology can eliminate errands.

It cannot replace shared history.

Perhaps that is the real lesson behind all these changes.

Technology has always promised to save us time. This generation of technology may actually deliver on that promise. If it quietly takes over more of our routine chores, many of us will gain hours that used to be spent driving, shopping, waiting in line, or simply keeping track of things.

The important question isn’t whether the technology will work.

The important question is what we’ll choose to do with the time it gives back to us.

I hope some of mine is spent having lunch with friends, attending a jazz performance, wandering through a nursery looking at plants I probably don’t need, or simply enjoying conversations that no computer can automate.

Convenience can certainly make life easier.

But it will always be people who make life worthwhile.