Notes on riffing

A riff, as I’m defining it, is a piece of writing created in one sitting. Minimal editing, if any. A riff is meant be fast and informal. You simply shoot from the hip the moment an intriguing idea shows itself.

As far as I know, the idea of riffing originates in music, where there’s some underlying theme or motif that you return to, over and over, while making it a bit different each time. This isn’t the first riff I’ve riffed about riffing. But it does build on what came before, while expanding and creating a bit of contrast. I’m sure I’ll return to it many more times, as that’s how I deepen my understanding of this practice, and my understanding of anything I riff about over and over.

Riffing, I’m learning, is the closest thing I experience to organic creativity, where something is flowing through me. When I riff, I am merely a conduit, putting my fears and my desire to control the outcome aside. To riff, therefore, is to be free. To riff is to take a risk, joyfully. To riff is to let go, surrendering to whatever wants to move through you in the moment.

As I get ready for the Befriending Technology experience in a few weeks, I’m beginning to understand that riffing is the secret ingredient for how this becomes an alive and generative experience, both for me and whoever joins.

I’ve been calling this a “reading and writing club” but maybe that’s a misnomer. Because we’re not scouring books to find answers, nor are we trying to be Serious Writers about technology. The goal isn’t to declare what we believe, as if we have to defend those opinions with our lives, but to explore one of the most bewildering and paradoxical relationships there is—the one between man and his technologies.

About a week ago, I wrote a riff about wanting to use Muse, Meta’s new agent, but feeling that instinctual distrust of Zuck and company. “Of course they’re going to harvest my data and abuse my privacy,” the voice in my head shouted. But then another chimed in, “So what? What are they gonna do, hit you with a bunch of hyper personalized ads on platforms you don’t even frequent? What are you actually afraid is going to happen here, Hardy?” In that moment, I realized I have no what I believe about privacy. Which in my view is a great place to start.

So yes, in befriending tech, we are going to riff together. We’re going to enter a state of collective curiosity and improvisation. We’re going to say shit that seems interesting, even if we don’t fully believe it, and trust that if we’re wrong it doesn’t actually reflect negatively on us. We’re going to jam, as jazz musicians do, and birth some kind of techno-relational masterpiece that none of us could make on our own.

I don’t know what’s going to emerge from the befriending tech experience. But I have an immense amount of faith that as we riff together, truly riff, something dope is going to happen.