Lately, I’ve been making a concerted effort to use my smartphone more mindfully. This doesn’t mean I’m not using it. Rather, it means that I’m making more conscious decisions about when I want to use and for which purpose. I do find myself partaking in mindless “doom scrolling” or spending too much time falling into “rabbit holes.” Since it doesn’t seem practical to not have a smartphone, I opted for plan B. Simply, I’m putting myself in control of the usage, rather than succumbing to the addictive, dependent lure of the device.
Given my new relationship with the smartphone, I felt intrigued to read this opinion piece the other week, “My Dumbphone Made My Life Better. It Made Everyone Else’s Worse.” In essence, the author gave up her smartphone for a variety of reasons. The phone and her children both competed for her attention. She felt she was spending too much time on the smartphone. It was causing too many distractions. She switched out the smartphone for a dumb one. Essentially a phone that does what phones were originally intended to do, make phone calls. I suppose dumb phones can also send text messages and a couple of other very basic things.
When I first started reading it, I instantly wondered, how does anybody survive with only a dumbphone? Everything these days is designed to work specifically with a smartphone. Even my IRS experience applying for the refund required me to toggle from a laptop to a smartphone to upload the necessary documents. QR codes are everywhere, a perfect complement for smartphones. Even a lot of restaurants use QR codes for customers to access menus… on their smartphones!
Anyway, a couple paragraphs in, I got my answer. The author relies on other people with smartphones to do things for her. Hence the second part of the opinion piece’s title. Now, instead of doing things for herself, she has to call and rely on others with smartphones. One example she used was calling an uber for a friend. She also discusses others doing the same experiment who have not been able to keep up socially, or like the author, had to relay disproportionately on the others to do basic things.
We’ve adapted so seamlessly to smartphones, in a short time they’ve become the default design. Can we ever dial this back?

