In the spring of 2024, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s book The Anxious Generation swept through popular culture, bringing hard data and stark warnings on how smartphone and social media use has affected a generation of teenagers. Though others have been warning of the same consequences—such as higher rates of mental illness, social isolation, and underdeveloped cognition—Haidt’s book seemed to finally make ears perk. 

Haidt offers many tips for how not only teenagers but the rest of us can combat what he refers to as “the Great Rewiring,” but many people, myself included, are choosing to opt out of smartphone use altogether.

The solution: “Dumb phones”

In my teenage years, most of my peers still had what are colloquially referred to now as “dumb phones”—phones without common internet and sometimes application abilities. While texting was certainly still a distraction, social media had yet to take over our awareness to the same level today. The tide started to turn in my later years of high school, as smartphones became more and more affordable—and therefore more and more popular. 

I was swept up in this change and traded in my dumb phone with a sliding keypad for a shiny, new smartphone, and quickly found myself in a pit of unhealthy habits—including constant social media scrolling and texting that affected my sleep and compulsively viewing pornography. My presence in my daily life became increasingly interrupted by endless notifications and a desire to be connected. Just a year later, in an effort to distance myself from porn consumption, I traded my smartphone back in for a flip phone. 

I would repeat this pattern again—getting a new smartphone in college and holding onto it for several years. While, by the grace of God, I was able to curb the destructive habits that a smartphone had made particularly easy, a certain unease remained even post-college and grad school as I entered the workforce. I was still chained to my smartphone. 

I wasn’t ready to admit it, though; I thought I had slain the most dangerous dragons a smartphone can feed. Though social media and pornography were replaced by my work email and music, my consumption was still a distraction to my everyday life, and I didn’t realize how much peace I was missing until I made an attempt to get it back. 

The philosopher Martin Heidegger once wrote:

In simpler terms, we are never more caught in the grip of technology’s power over us than when we deny that it has any power over us. The moments when we believe we are “in control” are perhaps those in which we’re most out of it. This isn’t our fault—there is increasing evidence that smartphones and social media, in particular, are designed to be addictive, no matter the barriers we try to place around them.

Though I denied it for a while and thought of myself as someone who was “in control” of her tech use, my lack of mental and spiritual peace suggested otherwise. 

Making the switch

My husband and I both switched to the Lightphone II around the time of our marriage, and I have yet to look back. 

The mental peace that came when I chose to switch was not instant—rather, I suffered what felt like minor withdrawals for a few weeks afterward. I was used to constantly, compulsively checking my phone, having information at my fingertips, the ability to fill any silence with noise, and connection to work and people who were not in the room with me. Once the edginess of adjusting to quiet and the minor inconveniences my new phone provided passed, I found myself far more present than I’d felt in years. My brain, my soul, it seemed, were not made for constant noise and connectivity… and neither is anyone else’s.

While we cannot change that we live in a world and society that largely depends on technology for necessary things, we can, like Heidegger suggests, determine how much of our lives we willingly deliver over to it. 

Rejecting a smartphone will undoubtedly inconvenience those who choose that path—in my case, I can’t pull up links, take photos, scan QR codes, or send emails, among many other things. But those inconveniences have been one of the most helpful factors of my dumb phone usage thus far: they’re a reminder of how much our tech truly does accomplish and made me question whether or not those quick, easy conveniences are something I should let tech accomplish immediately for me in the first place. Choosing those inconveniences, to me, is taking small parts of my life back from the technological status quo.

I’m not alone in my opting out—many others are trading in their smartphones for dumb phones, whether it’s the Lightphone II, the Wise Phone, or more kid-friendly options like the Gabb (which also makes a watch!). Many of these options are also compatible as a secondary device, meaning they can easily switch an SD card back and forth with a smartphone when you want to unplug. 

Time is precious

Whether or not you choose to join the dumb phone comeback, your life—and the people, relationships, and callings you value in it—deserve your utmost attention. Choosing presence in the high-speed modern age requires also choosing some level of discomfort and inconvenience in order to slow down enough to begin. 

It’s up to you to ask yourself: what or who is worth being inconvenienced for?

Have you made the switch to a dumbphone? Tell us about your experience in the comments!