The top 5 things people tell me when they find out I don’t have a smartphone

How to explain life without a smartphone

In recent years I’ve gotten good at turning first-time conversations into friendships.

But every time we reach that moment of ‘so, how do we keep in touch?’ I know what’s coming—a pause, a raised eyebrow, maybe even a visibly dropping jaw.

When I mention I don’t have a smartphone, it’s like I've just told them I'm from another planet or that I can communicate with animals. I don’t blame them, we are a rare breed these days.

Over time, I’ve noticed the reactions fall into the same few categories and each one reminds me why I made this choice—and why I’m happy sticking with it.

1. The envious ‘I wish I could do that’

This one usually comes with a sigh or a fading smile, as if not having a smartphone is some impressive feat of willpower.

But it has never been a struggle of willpower for me, just about making a choice. Life without a smartphone is both simpler and more complicated—just in different ways. 

Supposed inconveniences like planning ahead, asking for directions, and not having every answer in my pocket are small trade-offs for a life with more stability, simplicity, and calm. 

Years ago, as smartphones became common, I saw how easily they pulled people in. Having already been working on my mental health, I chose differently—to keep my focus and protect my mental space.

It’s funny to me that some people see this as a heroic choice. For me, it’s just about choosing the life that feels right—one with fewer distractions and more presence.

2. The polite ‘Good for you (but I would never)’

Sometimes people react with a short ‘Good for you,’ but I can sense there’s more going on.

There’s an undercurrent of defensiveness, as if my choice somehow implies they’re doing something wrong or that I’ve casually criticized a personal habit or theirs that I never meant to judge.

And I get it. We’ve all felt a bit of tribalism around personal choices, whether it’s our diet, parenting style, or in this case our technology use.

Apparently, when it comes to lifestyle choices—especially ones that go against the grain— it can stir up a sense of judgment, even when none is intended.

But my choice isn’t about anyone else. It’s just about keeping my head clear and sticking to what feels right for me. 

I’m not anti-smartphone, I’m just pro-quiet. Still, it’s telling how opting out of a device can feel like a protest to those who can’t imagine going without it.

3. The genuinely curious ‘How do you even live without one?’

It doesn’t surprise me that people are intrigued and inquisitive and I don’t mind explaining myself.

But some folks genuinely have trouble understanding, like I’m some kind of minimalist monk. It seems like life without a smartphone seems truly unimaginable to them. 

It’s not some act of extreme dedication. I just plan ahead, still study roadmaps sometimes, and keep in touch in ways that carry fewer expectations for instant replies (big fan of email for example).

Not having a smartphone makes life harder in some ways, but interestingly enough, it also makes it easier in others. As with any decision you make and stand by, the rest of your life naturally forms around it.

In fact, the little challenges that come with being smartphone-free add a touch of intentionality to my days—like committing to plans well in advance or embracing boredom while waiting in line at the grocery store.

4. The concerned ‘But don’t you need [insert app here]?’

This question often comes with a sense of genuine concern and care. It’s the ultimate empath’s response.

Don’t you need it for navigation? What about work? So how do you stay in touch with people? Don’t you miss [x], and how do you deal with [y]?

It’s true. I miss out on things—group chats, real-time directions, possibly even whole career paths I imagine. 

And yes, I might complicate things for those around me (sorry, friends). But the trade-offs feel worth it for a life that aligns more closely with what I value.

A pace that feels right for me.

To put things in perspective, it’s not like I’m relying on carrier pigeons here. There are still plenty of ways I keep in touch with family, friends, and colleagues. And because I rely less on text-based communication (even though I still email a ton), I naturally end up having more conversations—which isn’t the worst thing in the world for a conversation fan like me.

Living without a smartphone isn’t as difficult as people think; it just means adapting a little and asking people around you to meet you halfway.

I’ll be fine.

5. The self-reflective ‘That’s actually kind of inspiring’

Every once in a while, someone pauses, thinks for a moment, and seems to stay lost in thought for some authentic, in-the-moment self-reflection.

And sometimes, they even come back with a comment about how they’re actually inspired to make some changes to their smartphone habits.

Not that anyone’s ever said, ‘I’m with you, I’m throwing my phone in the trash right now’, but these conversations sometimes spark real discussions about the pros and especially cons of smartphone use.

People share the pull they feel toward their phones—and wonder if they could do with a little less of it. Sometimes they admit how they might be addicted to their screens but aren’t sure how to change.

I get it, I also have addictions—whether it’s YouTube, buying too much stuff, or even just thinking itself. I’m just not addicted to a smartphone.

For me, it was never a grand decision or statement, I was simply never convinced it was something I truly wanted or needed.

Living without constant pings is just how I move through my days, and hearing others reflect on it only reaffirms my choice.

Sticking with simple

Living without a smartphone isn’t about virtue signaling, thinking that I’m better than others, or flat out rejecting technology—several phases of crafting this newsletter were assisted by ChatGPT for example.

For me, it’s just about keeping things a little quieter, a little simpler, a little more stable.

The responses I get when I tell people never fail to remind me of why I’ve chosen to go this route, even if it sometimes leaves them wondering if I’m secretly living in another century.