Connected goods are rare objects. They offer the efficiency and benefits of digital experience, without the all consuming, unblinking, gaze of device screens.

At their most basic, the benefits are easy to understand. Add a programmable NFC chip (or similar technology) to your favorite hat to use it to open your apartment door. Put one in your travel coffee mug to unlock your car. Add one to your reusable shopping bag and pay for your groceries with it.

They are physical tools for digital interactions. On the surface, this doesn’t seem life changing. But, when we go beyond these transactional experiences of making new keys and credit cards, when we consider the weird ways physical objects can foster more mindful and purpose-driven interactions with technology, then we can imagine a world where our digital tools enhance our reality, rather than distracting us from it.

We could design our digital interfaces for our intentions, helping us dive deeper into those experiences we value: staying focused at work, present in social settings, and engaged in a hobby.

A connected bookmark could track how many pages you read, for how long you read, record audio notes, define unfamiliar words, and upload those stats and findings to your digital profile, without a screen interface. We get the benefits of technology while being in control of how much the digital world permeates our reality.

Those small moments, the moments of transition or boredom, they add up, they zap our dopamine, they demolish our focus and intention. And while connected goods can help us set intentions, they can also help us set boundaries.Our phones and computers are like gaping holes between the IRL and URL. Our ideas and attention blusters between them both, never quite settling in either. Connected goods have the opportunity to act as gates between these two worlds. They can give us access but, more importantly, we can close them behind us. We can shut one world off from another so that no creature, or idle thought, wanders out.

Our devices give us every tool to succeed, and every distraction to knock us off our paths. Process and habit can help one stay focused, but the right connected goods could amplify these virtues. Paradoxically, having more technology, in the form of connected goods, could improve our sometimes warped relationship with tech.Connected goods could give us bigger levers to pull when looking to set boundaries. A connected set of reading glasses could automatically shut off notifications and limit access to more distracting apps as soon as you put them on.

Our access to social media, games, even specific contacts (bosses and exes) could be bound to having a connected good on hand. At work? The necessary good to unlock all your distractions is at home. Out drinking with your friends? Thank goodness the connected good that gives you access to your ex’s number is sitting in that box in the back of your closet with her letters.

Connected goods could change the power dynamic between our best selves, our worst selves, and the internet.

Defining our relationship with technology is rarely a solitary endeavor, though. As the conversation lulls in a group setting, one person will break, and check their phone. Like “the wave” making its way around a stadium, each member of the group reaches into their own pocket as the conversation halts completely and each individual surrenders to the distraction of the digital world.

Connected goods could redefine the IRL social-digital experience. As a group of friends gathers on the weekend, each bringing a connected good, their access to their own digital devices could  change. When a quorum is reached, each member of the group loses access to apps that would make them less present, dating apps, social media, etc. while maintaining access to those for transportation, messaging, and taking photos. If the group shares a financial stake, of any size, that quorum could also give them access to a shared wallet to pay for the night.

These social benefits could go beyond the people you know, though, allowing you to connect with strangers who share common interests, without sacrificing security and privacy. A connected notebook or pair of running shorts could allow you to build a social web at run clubs, reading groups, museums, and parks, without having to share direct contact information. More broadly, they could be used to build community. Bands or artists could use connected concert Ts as tickets, to offer discounts, exclusive content like unreleased songs, or proof that you have in fact been a fan of the band from way before they were popular.

Connected goods can allow us to be more intentional with our digital experiences, more present in our daily life, and more expansive with our explorations of both. Our IRL and URL experiences should broaden our perspectives, not narrow our focus. Connected goods offer the opportunity, and tools, to look at the world around us, rather than the black box in our hands.

Connected goods are rare objects. They offer the efficiency and benefits of digital experience, without the all consuming, unblinking, gaze of device screens.

At their most basic, the benefits are easy to understand. Add a programmable NFC chip (or similar technology) to your favorite hat to use it to open your apartment door. Put one in your travel coffee mug to unlock your car. Add one to your reusable shopping bag and pay for your groceries with it.

They are physical tools for digital interactions. On the surface, this doesn’t seem life changing. But, when we go beyond these transactional experiences of making new keys and credit cards, when we consider the weird ways physical objects can foster more mindful and purpose-driven interactions with technology, then we can imagine a world where our digital tools enhance our reality, rather than distracting us from it.

We could design our digital interfaces for our intentions, helping us dive deeper into those experiences we value: staying focused at work, present in social settings, and engaged in a hobby.

A connected bookmark could track how many pages you read, for how long you read, record audio notes, define unfamiliar words, and upload those stats and findings to your digital profile, without a screen interface. We get the benefits of technology while being in control of how much the digital world permeates our reality.

Those small moments, the moments of transition or boredom, they add up, they zap our dopamine, they demolish our focus and intention. And while connected goods can help us set intentions, they can also help us set boundaries.Our phones and computers are like gaping holes between the IRL and URL. Our ideas and attention blusters between them both, never quite settling in either. Connected goods have the opportunity to act as gates between these two worlds. They can give us access but, more importantly, we can close them behind us. We can shut one world off from another so that no creature, or idle thought, wanders out.

Our devices give us every tool to succeed, and every distraction to knock us off our paths. Process and habit can help one stay focused, but the right connected goods could amplify these virtues. Paradoxically, having more technology, in the form of connected goods, could improve our sometimes warped relationship with tech.Connected goods could give us bigger levers to pull when looking to set boundaries. A connected set of reading glasses could automatically shut off notifications and limit access to more distracting apps as soon as you put them on.

Our access to social media, games, even specific contacts (bosses and exes) could be bound to having a connected good on hand. At work? The necessary good to unlock all your distractions is at home. Out drinking with your friends? Thank goodness the connected good that gives you access to your ex’s number is sitting in that box in the back of your closet with her letters.

Connected goods could change the power dynamic between our best selves, our worst selves, and the internet.

Defining our relationship with technology is rarely a solitary endeavor, though. As the conversation lulls in a group setting, one person will break, and check their phone. Like “the wave” making its way around a stadium, each member of the group reaches into their own pocket as the conversation halts completely and each individual surrenders to the distraction of the digital world.

Connected goods could redefine the IRL social-digital experience. As a group of friends gathers on the weekend, each bringing a connected good, their access to their own digital devices could  change. When a quorum is reached, each member of the group loses access to apps that would make them less present, dating apps, social media, etc. while maintaining access to those for transportation, messaging, and taking photos. If the group shares a financial stake, of any size, that quorum could also give them access to a shared wallet to pay for the night.

These social benefits could go beyond the people you know, though, allowing you to connect with strangers who share common interests, without sacrificing security and privacy. A connected notebook or pair of running shorts could allow you to build a social web at run clubs, reading groups, museums, and parks, without having to share direct contact information. More broadly, they could be used to build community. Bands or artists could use connected concert Ts as tickets, to offer discounts, exclusive content like unreleased songs, or proof that you have in fact been a fan of the band from way before they were popular.

Connected goods can allow us to be more intentional with our digital experiences, more present in our daily life, and more expansive with our explorations of both. Our IRL and URL experiences should broaden our perspectives, not narrow our focus. Connected goods offer the opportunity, and tools, to look at the world around us, rather than the black box in our hands.