I started writing this on my phone, and immediately put it down. Something about the glass doesn’t sit well on my fingers.
A phrase from Brett Victor has rattled around my head for the past couple years. He wrote on the perils of pictures under glass, the common interface for the phone. “It's a Novocaine drip to the wrist.” he said. Numbing, disconnected. By now, that novocaine has turned to nicotine.
The Casper Glow (Source)
Sensations evoke emotions. Meaning different materials are gateways to a broader range of feelings. We’ve been handcuffed to our glass phones, to a narrow sensation. They aren't just mentally consuming, they're limiting our sensory palette. Those that choose an alternative open themselves up to more of the reality around us.
I carry in my pocket a USB, I hold it alongside my keys. Metal. Anodized aluminum. Tumbled and frosted plastic. Not smoothed, but worn. Worn in life. Broader sensations, more emotions.
Norm's Keys feat. 
Past Potential Futures
This is a slide from one of our first pitch decks for USB Club. At the time, these objects were seen as being on the outskirts, either too niche or fading away. To us they depicted windows to a renewed breadth of forms and functions. Potential futures that could break through the high barrier of entry that new devices face.
You never leave home without your phone, wallet, and keys usb. That’s how we broke through.
I remember our friend Ed used to crack his phone screen as a reminder. That this object is not prestine. It is not the cherished object that is sold to you on billboards. An object should not have to be intentionally broken to be appreciated as human. Like an ocean-smoothed rock, the natural patina should speak for itself.
A sentiment we keep finding is that people want to feel again. The generation that grew up on the glass phone knows only the screen, and every screen they encounter is expected to be a touch screen. All they know is pictures under glass. We don’t need more screen, many are calling for that shift now. We need more surface — more texture, friction, feelings. Objects that keep us in the world and invite us further into reality.
The Object I'm Holding is Not a Phone