I bought a dumbphone. Or a burner. It sounds better if I call it a burner phone. For those of you born after 2001, that means a phone that can only call and text. And not even "text based apps" ... just text. Like SMS.
It was $40 and I used it as a backup when I had to give my iPhone back. It ended up being an experiment to see what I would do during a couple of days without data. It turns out, not having a smartphone automatically cuts out a lot.
It cut out distractions.
No Twitter
No Whatsapp
No Instagram
It cut out useful shit that I used.
No Googling stuff that I didn't know the answer to.
No Google Maps.
No ability to search my email for forgotten details of an appointment.
It cut out learning.
No podcasts.
No Kindle.
No YouTube.
It forced me to be present.
I had nothing to look at in the elevator.
At the crosswalk waiting for the light.
Or while waiting in line.
It created an abundance of these micro-gaps of time. And I was without dopamine hits from my smartphone. But I was hopeful that the abscence of datat would create space. Time without stimluation. Time to be bored. Time to think. Time to observe.
So I went out into the real world untethered. And noticed how quickly that my habit to check my smartphone ... just moved into a habit to check my burner phone. I mean, was that a buzz? What if someone had texted me? (They hadn't). What if I missed a phone call about something important? (I didn't). I was conditioned to reach for my pocket whenever I wanted to avoid being present doing whatever it was that I was doing.
Want to avoid writing? Reach for my phone.
Want to avoid eye contact? Reach for my phone.
Want to avoid conversation with a stranger? Reach for my phone.
Want to avoid work? Reach for my phone.
Yeah, so my desire to use my phone as an enabler for avoidance was pretty clear. But over the course of a week, I learned about my relationship with my phone and how it was impacting my interactions with the world.
1/ Habit loops are hard to break. One day is enough to notice an unconscious habit, but certainly not enough to break it. It's tough as hell. And breaking a bad habit is the same process as forming a new one. It's never complete. You have to continue to reinforce it day after day. The easiest way to break a bad habit is to make it hard to do. And that's what I was doing with a burner phone instead of a smartphone. Sure, I could check it a million times a day. But there's less of a designed response. Why? Because the stimulus just isn't there.
2/ Boredom is a blessing. Being bored was uncomfortable at first. But then my unstimulated brain began searching for stimulation. It let me think through problems. How to frame tough conversations that I needed to have. How to structure systems differently. How hypothetical scenarios might play out. How I needed to prepare for different meetings. It gave me space to think. And it gave me space to write.
3/ I engaged with more people in real life. A smile. A simple greeting that turned an automatic response into a real conversation. I was more present. That allowed me to connect better with strangers.
4/ I felt happier. The increased connections with strangers were part of it. And there was reduced stress from not being tied to email. And there was an increase in my presence in the real world. Removing the constant connection doesn't actually have you missing out on a whole lot. It's a misperception that the world will collapse is we are not connected to it. (And a little narcassistic - I'm not that important.) Plus, if something is important, people will call.
5/ I felt like Jason Bourne. I mean who else carries a burner phone? Spies, that's who. From my last stroll around the city, I noticed that even grandparents and homeless people are rocking the iPhone 5. If you're carrying a burner in 2019, I'm going to guess that you're a spy or an eccentric billionaire who doesn't want to be tracked.
6/ I needed a notebook to write stuff down. My mind was racing. With questions to ponder. With things to think about. With new ideas to investigate. And I had a special mistrust of my brain to remember the fleeting brilliance that crosses my mind. I didn't want to lose all of that inspiration in the next cycle of thoughts. Quotes. Inspiration. Ideas. I needed somewhere to write them down. It started with scrap paper, and turned into a notebook. I love writing on a page. I can see my mistakes. I can see my rewording of sentences. When I write with a pen, it's slower. But I can see the evolution of my thoughts instead of just deleting and retyping them.
7/ The withdrawl is real. And it will hit you in funny moments. You don't even realize that your hand is reaching for your phone before you're looking at it. The irony with a burner phone is that then you just end up starting stupidly at an unchanging screen. Cool. It's 10:47AM. Got it. Next. But there are also times when you are just drawn to it. You REALLY want to check Twitter to see the reactions to the evening's NBA games... but you can't. It's annoying as hell. You curse yourself out for not having your smartphone. You beg your wife to borrow hers. It's not a pretty sight.
8/ Presence is a present. You see what I did there? Trying to keep my #dadjoke game strong. But seriously, without being fed the constant dopamine hits from my smartphone, I found myself being much more present with the people that I normally engage with. I was quicker to understand what they wanted. I was faster at snapping back from distraction. I was more efficient at work. I was more able to truly enjoy my time with people. Especially my son. Normally I bring my smartphone as he messes around in the bath during bathtime. But being able to mentally be there, participate and observe as awesome. Not everyone may not have noticed a difference. But I did. And it was worth it.
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I realize that my phone is a tool. And I LOVE certain aspects of my phone. I love that I can take high quality pictures of my son. I love that I can use it to play stuff on my TV without having to get off the couch. I love walking and listening to podcasts.
But I want to be the one weilding the hammer. I want to leverage my phone to enable my good behaviours - like meditating, reading, writing and learning. I don’t want to be sucked into hours of wasted time, additonal anxiety or mindless scrolling.
I wish I could tell you that I figured it out. That I had a grand plan of how to move forward. A new system that built a firewall between my smartphone being a distraction device and boxed it into a being a tool. Do I bring a camera and a burner phone for a weekend? Do I bring a notebook everywhere instead of typing stuff into my phone? Do I wait until I get in front of a computer to search for the answer to a question?
Truthfully, I don't know what the right balance is for me. I'm still working on that. But I do know that I want to be more intentional about how I spend my time. And one way is to take a break from this super sexy, super convenient, super useful smartphone.
- Christian