When two balaclava-clad men on a motorbike mounted the pavement to rob me, recently, I remained oblivious. My eyes were pinned to a text message on my phone, and my hands were so clawed around it that they didn’t even bother to grab it. It wasn’t until an elderly woman shrieked and I felt the whoosh of air as the bike launched back on to the road that I looked up at all. They might have been unsuccessful but it did make me think: what else am I missing from the real world around me?
Before I’ve poured my first morning coffee I’ve already watched the lives of strangers unfold on Instagram, checked the headlines, responded to texts, swiped through some matches on a dating app, and refreshed my emails, twice. I check Apple Maps for my quickest route to work. I’ve usually left it too late to get the bus, so I rent a Lime bike using the app. During the day, my brother sends me some memes, I take a picture of a canal boat, and pay for my lunch on Apple Pay. I walk home listening to music on Spotify and a long voice note from a friend, then I watch a nondescript TV drama, while scrolling through Depop and Vinted for clothes.
I’m constantly contactable, I have no personal boundaries, and my attention span disappeared a long time ago. Since the first iPhone in 2007, smartphones have become indispensable to modern life, with the average person in the UK spending four hours and 20 minutes online per day. “Social media provides frictionless access to an infinite universe of mostly free digital drugs,” says Anna Lembke, author of Dopamine Nation. “And the algorithm tailors the experience for each unique brain, making it very reinforcing, while also injecting just enough novelty in the infinite scroll to overcome boredom and tolerance. All these features combined keep us clicking and swiping long after we want to.” Over time we develop tolerance, which means “we need more of it and a more potent form to get the same effect.”
Increased screen time has been associated with depression, anxiety and poorer sleep. But is it possible to live lo-fi in a hi-tech world? For a month, I tried: swapping my iPhone for a Nokia which I can only use to text, call and play Snake; also, a Walkman and a film camera. I picked up physical copies of books, newspapers and magazines; I used a London A-Z for directions, and hunted down my physical bank cards or tried to use cash. The only screen time exception was for work, where from 9-5 I used my laptop to respond to emails and write.


