Effort Builds Excellence: The Role of Friction in Learning

We live in a world designed for convenience—one-click shopping, instant answers, and seamless technology. But when it comes to education, could making things too easy be doing more harm than good? ASMSA Executive Director Corey Alderdice explores why friction isn’t just an obstacle to remove in learning, but a critical part of growth. This episode dives into the balance between efficiency and effort, highlighting how strategic struggle builds resilience, critical thinking, and deeper understanding. From AI-driven tools to digital distractions, we’ll examine where removing friction helps—and where it holds students back. Tune in for a fresh perspective on why learning should challenge, stretch, and push students beyond their comfort zones—and why embracing a little friction might be exactly what they need.

For additional thoughts from Director Alderdice, visit coreyalderdice.com.

You can also follow Alderdice on Twitter/X, LinkedIn, BlueSky, YouTube, Instagram, and Threads.

Learn more about ASMSA at asmsa.org/thrive.

Transcript

Let’s be honest—most of us love a good frictionless experience. We expect apps to load instantly, we want one-click ordering, and if a website takes more than a few seconds to respond, we’re already looking for something else. Convenience is king, and Silicon Valley has spent decades perfecting the art of making things as seamless as possible.

But here’s the thing: while reducing friction makes sense in a lot of areas, education isn’t one of them. In fact, friction isn’t just something we should tolerate in learning—it’s something we should value.  With that in mind, I want to challenge the idea that education should be as smooth and effortless as possible. Because if we take all the struggle out of learning, we take out the growth, too.

Now, I get it. When we think about improving education, we often talk about removing obstacles—making learning more accessible, streamlining systems, and reducing unnecessary barriers for students. And there are plenty of areas where that’s a good thing.

No one is arguing that students should struggle to access their assignments because of a clunky learning management system. No one wants them to waste time deciphering confusing instructions when the goal is to master a concept. Schools have done a lot of work to make education more efficient—digitizing textbooks, implementing AI tutors, making it easier to submit homework with a tap on a screen. In a lot of ways, that’s progress.

But here’s where we have to be careful: when we confuse removing obstacles with removing effort, we run into problems. Learning isn’t meant to be effortless. It’s meant to challenge, to stretch, to push students beyond what they thought they could do. And when we eliminate too much friction, we actually rob students of the experiences that make learning meaningful.

Think about the last time you really learned something—really had to work for it. Maybe it was mastering a difficult piece of music, writing an essay that actually made you think, or solving a math problem that didn’t come easily. That process—the frustration, the trial and error, the moment where you wanted to give up but didn’t—that’s what made the learning stick.

Psychologists call this productive struggle. It’s the idea that deep learning happens when students wrestle with a concept just beyond their reach. If something is too easy, the brain doesn’t engage. But if it’s just hard enough—if it takes effort but still feels possible—that’s when real learning happens.

In math and science, for example, students who are forced to work through problems, rather than just being given the answers, develop stronger critical thinking skills. The same goes for writing. AI tools like ChatGPT can generate an essay in seconds, but if a student never has to struggle through structuring their own argument, they’re not really learning how to write.

This kind of friction is what builds resilience. It teaches students that not everything will come easily, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. And in a world where so much is designed to be instant and effortless, that lesson is more important than ever.

There’s another side to this, too. The more we remove friction from education, the less students develop patience and perseverance.  Take technology use in the classroom. AI tools are getting better at giving instant feedback, personalizing lessons, and making learning adaptive. On the surface, that sounds like a dream. But if a student never has to sit with uncertainty, never has to work through confusion or frustration, they don’t build the cognitive endurance they’ll need later in life.

There’s also the issue of digital distractions. One of the most frictionless experiences we’ve ever created is scrolling—a never-ending stream of content, perfectly curated to keep us engaged. But studies show that this kind of constant ease reduces deep focus. Students conditioned to expect instant results may struggle with tasks that require sustained effort, like reading a challenging book or solving a multi-step problem.

Some schools are now introducing intentional friction—things like requiring handwritten notes instead of typing, setting limits on AI-generated work, or encouraging slow reading instead of skimming. Not because they want to make life harder for students, but because they know that a little struggle now leads to greater skills later.

Beyond academics, friction plays a crucial role in shaping character. In high school, students are still learning how to navigate challenges—whether it’s figuring out how to advocate for themselves, managing time effectively, or handling constructive criticism. If everything in their school experience is designed to be smooth and easy, they miss out on opportunities to develop those skills.

Think about resilience. The ability to bounce back from setbacks doesn’t come from avoiding difficulty—it comes from facing it head-on. If a student never experiences failure, they never learn how to recover from it. That’s why some of the best teachers don’t give immediate answers; they push students to struggle a bit, to figure things out for themselves. That’s where confidence is built.

And it’s not just about individual growth. Some of the best ideas—the most innovative solutions—come from wrestling with problems that don’t have obvious answers. If we want students to be creative thinkers, problem solvers, and leaders, we have to let them struggle. We have to let them experience friction.

So, what’s the takeaway? It’s not that we should make education needlessly difficult. The goal isn’t to create barriers just for the sake of it. But we should be intentional about where we remove friction and where we leave it in place.

We should remove friction in areas that get in the way of learning—things like outdated systems, unnecessary bureaucracy, and inefficient processes. But we should embrace friction where it leads to deeper thinking, stronger skills, and greater resilience.

That might mean letting students wrestle with a problem a little longer before stepping in with help. It might mean resisting the urge to simplify everything and instead encouraging them to push through challenges. It might mean reminding them that not everything worth learning comes easily.

At the end of the day, education isn’t about making things effortless. It’s about making students capable. And that only happens when we give them the space to struggle, to think, to grow. So, let’s stop seeing friction as a problem to be solved. In the right places, it’s exactly what students need.