Over winter break I have seriously considered and taken meager steps (i.e. looked at the first page of Google search results) to swapping my smartphone for an ancient, feeble, and what I envision would be ultimately freeing flip phone. No internet, no apps, limited texting capabilities. I ruminate on the couch after I read my screen usage report and wonder why I spent an hour browsing online clothing sales, refreshing the weather report in futile hopes that the outcome will change and more snow will arrive, winning so many rounds of Solitaire that my point tally is astronomical, scrolling through a decade worth of photos of my children, unable to delete any of them even though there are near-duplicates because if not for these photos when they were infants or toddlers how will I ever remember the way their sleeping faces looked, the church-bell shape of their swollen lips after nursing because my mind is incapable of remembering these moments without the digital prompt. My phone is a like an e-bike for my memory: I can do some of the pedaling but I need the auxiliary power to recall when my son wore a ski helmet in the summer on our daily walks to the bakery or how around a year old, my daughter would take my neck warmers and wear them like a dress.
I’ve taken steps to reduce my phone usage, including deleting social media accounts, not installing my work email, banning it from my bedroom at night, and finding times when it’s appropriate to leave it at home while I’m out. Despite these measures, I still spend way too much time on my phone and I loathe myself for it. Thus, the fantasy of a most basic, Internet-free phone takes hold and I also imagine that not only will I have more time to spend on things that matter but I’ll also be a much better person. Truthfully,90 percent of my fantasies involve dramatic waves of self-improvement and the quest of perfection. Total fantasy.
Then, reality hits. My kids’ schools use an app for attendance and communication. I keep in touch with my dad in Florida by regularly texting photos and videos of the kids. Texts between friends and even colleagues make up a large aspect of my daily communications. I play a lot of basic Solitaire on my phone because my game playing skill development ended in fourth grade. Occasionally I read books on my phone because I wake up in the middle of the night and use an app to read something to help me fall back asleep without bothering my spouse. Maps are helpful when traveling as is the airline’s app when a flight is canceled. I use the web search a lot for quick hits: either to look up a recipe or to resolve a problem. If I were to ditch my current phone, what would I lose? And, importantly, what could I gain?
It’s the New Year, so between winter-break induced increase phone usage and the desire to many a change with 2026, it’s top of mind. I’ve had a conversation about it with nearly everyone I speak or text with. I talk with other parents about screen time and appropriate tech use and I nag my husband about his own phone use. I’ve been caught in this trap of wanting to reclaim my time, attention, and memory while also not being an absolutist and refusing to engage in how the world works. I do appreciate my mobile banking app! As a recovering alcoholic, there are some lines that I do not cross and that has served me so well in four years. It’s saved my life when applied to alcohol but the approach doesn’t always translate to other areas of my life.
I’m reading a lot, sometimes in a real book, other times on my phone, about the health impacts of technology like smartphones, social media, video games, and now AI. It’s rapid, largely unregulated development has far-reaching implications and just as we’re learning about alcohol’s impact on the body, our relationship to technology demands a closer look. It’s not lost on me that these screens create an addicting impulse effect like I used to experience when I drank. It’s not good for developing minds, and I’m quite certain it’s not good for this middle-aged mind, either. My desire to ditch the smartphone is akin to many other goals for the new year and its decision lies on an axis of practicality, achievability, and improvement. Ultimately, what I’m asking, without the help of an AI bot, is this: how should I best live my life?