It was raining, my battery was low, and the app asked for something new: “Enable precise location.” I tapped yes without reading the rest. A minute later, a car arrived, and I forgot about the permission I had just given. Not because I didn't care, but because convenience came quicker than the cost. We do this every day. Accept all cookies to read a paragraph. Sign in with Google because forms are tiring. Scroll through a feed that knows us so well we stop wondering who's behind it. Each small choice seems harmless on its own; another inch traded for a bit more ease. Put together, those inches become a lane. Eventually, a highway. Decentralization offers a completely different path. There's no single person in control and no way to easily silence someone. In theory, it gives us more freedom: control, flexibility, and real ways to leave. But when we choose convenience, we pay what I call the comfort tax. We don't pay with money; we pay by accepting defaults. We pay with silence when buttons are made to be the easiest choice, and we're too tired to choose otherwise. Censorship isn't always obvious. Sometimes it looks like a safety net that slowly tightens while calling itself "easy." The friendly side of control is convenience: everything in one place, everything personalized, everything working smoothly, until you try to change, disagree, or opt out. Then you see the barriers, and by then you've already settled in. So, here's the challenge we need to consider before discussing protocols or governance. Decentralization can create a foundation for freedom, but can it match the ease that made us overlook compromises? Is the real danger to a freer web the censor's rules or our desire for things that seem easy? In other words, if gaining freedom means accepting some difficulty, will we choose it? Or will we continue paying the comfort tax because it's the only cost that doesn't feel painful right away? Defaults as Destiny Most of us don't really "choose" our tech; we just use what's already there. We stick with what's pre-selected, pre-installed, or pre-connected. Behavioral economists call this the default effect. When the current setup is easy, we stick with it, even if changing it would be better for us. That's why countries with opt-out organ donation have much higher consent rates than those with opt-in systems, and why "doing nothing" often wins. Defaults seem like common sense, but they're actually design choices that seem friendly. You can see this in how our social lives follow the same path. Instagram encourages you to link accounts in Meta’s Accounts Center; once connected, posting and switching accounts is just one tap away. Saved logins let you sign in with a thumbprint, with no need for passwords or thinking about where your data goes. The path is easy, clear, and called "seamless." So we follow it. Now compare that to the usual decentralized process. Creating a wallet often involves downloading an extension or app, generating a recovery phrase, writing it down, confirming it in order, and learning about a private key before sending your first transaction. On social platforms like Farcaster, you might also rent storage, add a key, and sign several on-chain actions; even Warpcast’s user-friendly version still requires an on-chain fee at the start. The freedom is there, but so is the hassle. To be fair, the gap is closing. Account-abstraction wallets aim to make “seedless” the norm: using passkeys instead of phrases, email or OAuth sign-ins instead of complicated setups, and sponsored gas so the first click actually works. That’s what Coinbase’s Smart Wallet offers, and why more wallets are switching to passkeys as the main access point. But notice the lesson in this innovation: adoption increases when the default feels familiar. This leads us to an important point: whoever sets the default controls where people focus. One-tap SSO not only saves time but also keeps users within the system that provides this shortcut. When attention is centralized, everything else follows, like recommendations, incentives, and moderation rules. If decentralization wants to succeed, it can't just be an option; it needs to be the easiest choice. Social Proof and Safety Theater We don't just do what's right; we do what seems right. That's social proof: when we're unsure, we copy what's popular because we think popular means true. Labels like "trending," "recommended," and "for you" guide us, and soon the crowd leads the way. Online, this direction is set by a central source. Algorithms then strengthen this cycle. Content that already has attention gets more visibility, and this creates a bias towards popularity. Over time, "most-viewed" becomes "most-shown," and the feed focuses on what the system predicts you'll click on again. Familiar. Safe. Engaging. Platforms say they curate content to keep us safe. Harmful health claims are pushed down or removed. Dangerous treatments are taken out. They claim it's for safety, and sometimes that's true. But this affects how we think. We start to believe that what's visible is good and what's hidden is bad, and we stop questioning who decides these things or how often they change. Think about airport security. We take off our shoes and put liquids in small bottles. It feels safe because it seems thorough. Bruce Schneier called this “security theater,” actions that make us feel safe more than they actually protect us. Once we know the routine, we stop questioning it. Feeds can be similar: a show of safety that teaches us to accept control, little by little. So when something seems popular and "safe," we don't just watch it; we start to follow it. That's how social proof turns into a rule without any vote. Unless decentralization can reveal the tricks or create new signals, we'll keep sitting down, clapping on cue, and calling the show reality. The Hidden Architecture of Ease Algorithms are sold as tools to help us. They make searching easier, guess our preferences, and simplify small choices so discovering new things feels effortless. Infinite scroll removes clicks and pages, preventing you from changing your mind; it reduces interaction costs and keeps your focus moving down. TikTok made this smooth experience the norm. When you open the app, you see a personalized stream called the For You feed, shaped by things like watch-time, shares, and follows, and ranked to keep you watching. It's a simple process: no typing, no choices, just another video that feels even more like something you'd enjoy. Even TikTok's own explanation says the feed is a ranked, signal-driven system, with controls added later to manage what the system has already learned about you. Decentralized systems don't work as smoothly, at least not yet. On Farcaster, to create an account, you need to register on the blockchain, rent storage, and add a key before you can fully join in. These steps keep your ownership but also slow things down. Nostr requires you to create and manage a public/private key and pick relays; it gives you control but also extra work. Even outside social platforms, IPFS uses content identifiers: good for keeping things intact, but you usually start with a CID, not a search box, meaning you need to know what you're looking for before you can find it. This isn't by accident. Easy design doesn't just help us; it guides us. When the fastest way is an algorithm-driven path, most of us will follow it, and our choices shrink to what that path consistently offers. If decentralization wants to offer more options, it needs to make the first step as easy as the next swipe, without losing control. Complexity as the Silent Killer Dawn Teh points out the issue clearly: people won't choose freedom if it seems harder. The onboarding process is full of jargon, there are too many steps, and unless someone already feels restricted, they won't want to deal with the hassle. In reality, ease of use wins over principles. That's the catch. You can see this in our chats. Signal is designed for privacy, while WhatsApp is designed for ease of use. Even though Signal now has usernames so you don't have to share your number, you still start with a phone number, and recovery has involved dealing with keys and backups, which most people avoid. WhatsApp, on the other hand, uses your existing contacts, restores from cloud backups, and puts you right into your conversations. Ease wins, even if it's not the most secure option. Email shows the same pattern. SMTP is open, but in reality, a few big companies dominate because it's tough for small servers to deliver emails. Running your own email server means dealing with SPF, DKIM, and DMARC, watching complaint rates, matching "From" addresses with signing domains, and keeping up with changing rules from Gmail, Yahoo, and Microsoft. The protocol is decentralized, but the experience isn't, because complexity wears down small operators until they give up. Gmail makes the rules clear. If you don't authenticate correctly, your emails are slowed down or blocked with errors like 5.7.26. If you send a lot of emails without DMARC alignment, expect them to be rejected. Providers like Fastmail explain why: reputation and authentication now replace trust, and both need constant attention that casual self-hosters often can't manage. Complexity isn't just a cost of "doing it right"; it's a barrier. So when users say freedom feels like work, they aren't imagining it. The hidden lesson from WhatsApp vs. Signal and Gmail vs. "do-it-yourself" isn't just that good security demands more from us. It's that every extra step pushes us back to platforms that skip those steps. Unless decentralization makes the first few minutes super easy, complexity will keep doing what censors couldn't do openly: it will make people choose the easy option that works automatically. Trading Agency for Comfort Think of it as a comfort tax: every tap we save is a decision we let someone else make for us. The reason is simple. We hate losing, so a small mistake feels worse than a small win feels good. We also prefer doing nothing, so sticking with the default seems safer than making a choice and being wrong. Together, these make convenience a safety net. If the easiest option is also the safest, why not take it? "Sign in with Google" fits right here. One prompt, one click, no new password to create or forget. For developers, One Tap shows up just when the user is ready to proceed; for users, it turns hassle into one simple action. Case studies even show big increases in sign-ups when One Tap is used. The side effect is subtle: identity and account recovery become centralized, and relying on one main gatekeeper becomes normal. Convenience wins again. Auto-updates work in a similar way. They help keep people safe by fixing known issues without needing any expertise or attention. But this can also hide weaknesses: if the updater has special access, a problem there can be serious, as seen with Zoom’s macOS auto-update bugs. Convenience takes away the hassle, but also the moment to ask, what just changed, and who decided? Then there are the Terms of Service and cookie banners that pop up like tollbooths before you can see content. After seeing so many, most of us just click “Accept all” to make them disappear. Studies show how these consent screens influence our choices, from button design to complex reject options. It seems like we’re agreeing, but it feels more like giving in. Complexity isn't neutral or free. It leads people to choose systems that seem easier, even if those systems ask for more later. We keep trading our control for more predictability, making fewer choices for more certainty. If decentralization wants to succeed, it must be easy enough so that choosing freedom doesn't feel like choosing failure. Can Decentralization Out-Comfort Centralization? Dawn Teh is right about the first challenge: decentralization needs to be easier. But just being simple won't beat systems that make ease feel like an emotion. The real question is not just "can we make it smoother?" but "can we make freedom feel tempting, the choice you want to make before you even think about why?" Big Tech doesn't just win with features; it wins with feel. Little joys with every tap. Predictable patterns. Comfort built into the design so choices never feel risky. If decentralization wants a real chance, it must learn from this approach without falling into the same traps. Defaults should protect the user's future while still benefiting them now. It should be clear how to undo actions. Recovery should feel comforting, not like a chore. Imagine if the default in a decentralized app wasn't "learn keys," but instead, "you're in; your keys are on your device, and you can add guardians later with one tap." Imagine if exporting wasn't hidden in settings, but always visible, making it easy to leave with your data, just like posting. Imagine if every permission request came with a countdown and a simple promise: it expires automatically, renew only if it still benefits you. That's not just safer; it's comforting. Think about discovery. What if the "For You" page existed, but the ranking method moved with you? One slider to switch from popularity to diversity. One button to explore "outside your bubble." One look to see which signals are influencing a recommendation, with the option to mute them. The goal isn't to remove convenience; it's to give you control over it. The system can still predict your needs, but now you can respond. Social proof can be redesigned, too. Instead of one big counter that highlights the loudest voices, show popularity across different relays, instances, and communities. Let the interface celebrate variety of sources like centralized feeds celebrate speed. If seeing many sources becomes normal, people will see "many" as the standard. Make good behavior easy. Have opt-in portability turned on by default, with gentle reminders that your data isn't stuck. Offer a one-tap option to "cross-post to your other platforms." Use time-limited walls for safety features so protections don't become traps. Small, immediate wins: you kept control, and nothing broke. That's how habits form. This is an idea worth exploring: what if decentralized systems were as easy and smooth to use as centralized ones, but focused on giving users control instead of relying on platforms? What if every simple action quietly expanded your choices to leave; if every enjoyable moment showed you how to leave without losing anything? Attraction, redirected. Convenience, adjusted. Not "choose freedom despite the experience," but "choose freedom because of it." The Real Price Tag Centralization didn't win by being the loudest. It won because it was the easiest option. It wasn't a strict ruler, but more like a friendly helper, taking care of our belongings and choices. While the early web encouraged us to explore and experiment, today's feeds teach us to relax, and it's surprising how quickly comfort can change our beliefs. This is a pattern we keep repeating. We say we value openness, portability, and choice, but then we go with the defaults, follow the crowd, and call it neutral. Every easy tap is a quiet vote for the system that provides it. Every time we say "later" to learning new things or exporting data, we're giving up a bit of our control. These habits build up over time. The warning isn't about censors at the door. It's about how convenience dulls our awareness of risk until we stop noticing the trade-off. Every time we pick the easy feed over a bit of effort, we not only save time but also help create a norm that makes control easier next time. And the time after that. If decentralization is to be important, it needs to fit into our everyday lives, where we choose what's closest, not what's most accurate. Freedom should feel like the easy choice, not an extra task. Otherwise, we end up in the same situation as always, with each small, enjoyable decision adding up. The cost isn't paid all at once; it's paid in small amounts we hardly notice. Yet, the total is clear. “The comfort tax seems small at first, but over time, it buys our silence completely.”
