Opting out

The thirty-fourth newsletter is about picking addictions

I’ve never owned a smartphone. And I’m not getting one anytime soon.

I clearly remember being in my last few years of high school when suddenly the first mobile phones were popping up around me.

I also remember getting on board quite quickly, surfing the hype, and subsequently getting a whole string of popular Nokia and Motorola models. All of which I remember fondly.

Moving from landlines to mobiles felt like a real revolution. Sending text messages, being able to reach someone when they’re not at home. How exciting.

I had no idea what was still to come.

Smart?

Despite being an early mover when it came to dumb phones, when I saw the first smartphones arrive, I wasn’t as quick to jump on the bandwagon.

Maybe because I was a bit older, and a bit less impressionable, but the main reason was how I saw people change socially. Even in the early days of the smartphone, it was pretty clear how distracting and all-absorbing these magical machines were.

Conversations are about connecting with another human being and they will quickly break down if attention is lost. Having a conversation with someone who is distracted by their phone is the worst.

I saw the people around me become socially handicapped and really didn’t like it. This sparked my initial objection and I’ve been skeptical and hesitant ever since.

Of course there are also people who are in control of their device, they somehow manage to wield this enormous force in their pocket. But for many it’s the other way around. They’re slaves to their gadget. And I totally get why.

A smartphone conveniently exploits our nature. Humans are wired to respond to distractions that produce dopamine hits. When our brain receives a reward for a task, we continue to engage in that task. It's a natural thing. In that sense everybody has an ‘addictive personality’.

I know I do.

Opting in

I like one-function devices. I have a simple watch, I still use an iPod, and I have a photo camera (that also does video…). If something has just one or a few functions, it usually does that function extremely well and the quality of components is usually higher. Less breakage, less drama.

Above all though, I like the simplicity and intentionality of it. You don’t get a lot of extras (read: extra temptations and distractions) you didn’t ask for. I can choose to bring my camera but not my watch, when I’m looking for a visually stimulating afternoon without being on the clock. Opting in ad hoc, so to speak.

Even without a smartphone, I’m still very much addicted. Just to other things. And I’m always looking to reduce or eliminate them.

The biggest one that comes very close to a smartphone is my laptop. It absolutely has the biggest grasp on my attention. YouTube, email, ChatGPT, it doesn’t matter. Whatever is on my screen will attract my undivided attention. Maybe it’s a little less intense because I don’t have it in my pocket and I’m not able to grab it in seconds but I still feel the power it has over me.

I suspect I wouldn’t be able to control myself around a smartphone, turning into a doom-scrolling, distracted, absent-minded zombie, inhaling meaningless content like it’s air. This is why I’m choosing not to engage, and protect myself from the impulsive appeal.

Not having a smartphone means one less addiction to worry about. 

Social sacrifice

When my friend-group started a whatsapp group so meetups could be organized more easily, I didn’t join because of my ‘sobriety’. I campaigned for text or email, but it was clear that wasn’t an avenue people wanted to consider. Not easy enough I guess, and fair enough.

My choice was never really supported or understood. People were like: ‘What’s the worst that could happen? Just get a smartphone!’ To me it felt similar to how people can push alcohol on you saying: ‘come on, just one more beer’.

This effectively meant that I ‘communicatively lost’ half of the group. From some people I would still receive a heads-up every now and again but the bulk of the conversation passed me by.

I realize that I’m missing out in multiple ways. I’m not able to join certain groups, communities, and fun meetups, simply because I don’t use whatsapp. There are a lot of interesting and useful applications that I’d love to run, but currently don’t support desktop versions. And when I’m on the road, I don’t have google maps… 

So why not delete all apps and still have a smartphone?

Gauging by my current laptop use and by what I’ve learned from removing other addictions from my life is that counting on willpower is a mistake. Don’t have sugar (or fill in the blank) in the house when you’re trying to quit.

Mental stability

Despite having to find new ways to maintain relationships with my friends, the benefits of going smartphone-less still far outweigh the (rather manageable) cons.

Initially, seeing people around me glued to their smartphones moved me not to engage but later on, it was my self-improvement journey that confirmed (and is still confirming) the choice for me.

Coming back from a serious mental health crisis, I know how it feels to be unstable, mentally weak and confused. I want to be as centered and undistracted as I can be.

This resolve strengthens my original decision and makes me look at other areas in my life where I’m still distracted, addicted, and pulled into different directions.

Although I don’t think I’m ready to pawn off my laptop in exchange for a typewriter anytime soon.