Product Therapy: unsubscribes, dog sweaters and no headphones
March 2025
I wrote my last post here after a flurry of a weekend experimenting with AI. I wrote with such a fervor because I was buzzing. The speed at which I was able to build - and the culture around speed, as articulated so clearly in this interview with the Head of Claude Code1 - was jarring. What was fascinating to me though was the sheer number of unsubscribes2 I saw to this newsletter immediately after publishing that post. My thesis on why that happened isn’t fully baked, but I think it has something to do with fear. Allow me to continue.
My theme du fortnight started to emerge soon after. I saw this…
And I read this: What You Miss When You’re Always Wearing Headphones. (The writer describes riding a subway train where nearly every passenger is ears covered, tuned out. They argue that we’ve built a culture that encourages us to turn away from the world, and that the refusal to hear what’s around us has become a new form of ignorance. And how they eventually decided to retire their headphones from public life altogether.)
When our second snowstorm hit last month3, I ventured out in the storm like last time, encountering cheerful neighbors eager to make small talk during this collective moment. A jaunt around the block was filled with waves, small talk and friendly niceties that never happen on a normal day. It reminded me of Dog Lady on Halloween. That collective NYC spirit.
It’s left me longing for more collective spirit and I don’t want to have to wait for a big city moment, a snowstorm, a holiday, a marathon, to connect with the people right in front of me.
I realize I’m part of the problem4. I put my own walls up by ensuring I have a podcast or music plugged in, or a phone call to make, while shuffling around the neighborhood or commuting to work. How can I tap into a collective spirit, a smile, a conversation, if I keep myself in my protected little bubble?
So I’ve been experimenting…which, has been uncomfortable: going headphone-less around the block, on the commute, all in an effort to connect with people in smaller ways.
Maybe that discomfort is related to the same fear that led 2% of people to unsubscribe to this newsletter when I wrote with excitement about the speed and human replacement elements of AI.
The pace at which everything is moving is terrifying. But as my friend Craig noted at dinner the other night: embodied presence is irreplaceable.5
Sure, we’re scared of what’s to come, but we don’t do ourselves any favors by blocking ourselves out from the world. It’s completely on us to maintain a collective human spirit.
This is your monthly consideration: go headphone-less on your commute, resist the phone call on your walk, and maintain a sense of quiet first thing in the morning.
Things I Stacked
I considered optimization and of course, AI, this month.
Culture Clicks
📺 I’ve been wanting pop-up video to come back so I don’t have to be on my phone the entire time I watch Love Story. Reality Check was really of a time. 🎵 This new Toy Tonics album is pure joy. Plus, a delicious Purple Disco Machine takeover, here. 🐶 I’ve never seen Leo get more attention than when wearing this sweater. 🍔 New Trader Joes’ frozen favorite. Still thinking about the burger at Liar Liar and the Boquerones at Eel Bar - both places that have gotten even better on the second visit.
Substack clicks
Happy March. We’re almost there, people who celebrate sprint :-)
I’m Jori Bell, VP of Core at Hampton and a coach for Product Leaders. Learn more about my coaching practice here.
For better or for worse, up for debate.
I don’t normally pay attention to this number, but I saw a sizable drop the day after I published.
Sparing you the continued gripes of this winter in New York.
For now at least.
Thank you for this reflection. I truly miss some of the smaller moments that resulted from us being open to our environments. If we want to maintain what is truly unique to human beings, we must lean into our most human elements. Not optimizing time, but creating space.