Bret Victor’s rant made me rethink what we even mean when we call something “the future.” He argues that touchscreens, gesture controls, and all these “advanced” interfaces are actually making us less connected to our own abilities. Our hands are one of the deepest ways we understand the world. They know tension, pressure, texture. They think with us. But we’ve decided progress means tapping around on cold glass. When I read that, the first thing I thought of was LEGO. There is this unspoken language when you build: the way your fingers already know which brick fits, the tiny resistance before a perfect click. That sound. That feeling. It’s not just play; it is intelligence happening through the body. No screen has ever replicated that.
I’ve tried the digital LEGO builders before, and they always feel wrong. You can assemble something on the screen, sure, but there is no weight, no friction, no small ritual of digging through pieces and recognizing one by touch alone. Same with crocheting. The yarn runs differently through your fingers depending on tension, mood, the hook, your posture. You feel progress. You feel mistakes. Your hands correct before your mind catches up. Victor’s point clicked for me here: creativity is not just in the mind. It is in the wrists, fingertips, joints, and muscle memory. When interfaces ignore the body, they are not futuristic. They are incomplete.
The responses page made it clear he is not saying we need to go backwards. He is saying we should refuse a future that flattens our senses. There are richer, more human possibilities if we let our full selves participate in the interaction. For me, the future I want is textured, clickable, tuggable, threaded, snapped together. A future that feels like LEGO: discovery through touch, play, accident, correction, and joy. Innovation that doesn’t just live on a screen, but lives in your hands.