My Dear, dear phone.
From your origins as a bulky, stationary device that graced the halls of our homes to the sleek, ever-present companion nestled in our pockets today, the phone has evolved from a mere tool to something much more profound.
It has become an extension of our very selves, shaping our behaviours, our relationships, and even our thoughts.
This evolution, while marked by remarkable technological advancements, has not been without its complexities.
The phone has become a symbol of connection and convenience, yet also a source of anxiety and distraction.
This article reflects on the phone‘s journey through time, exploring its impact on our lives, the unintended consequences of our dependence on it, and the questions we must ask ourselves as we move forward into an increasingly digital future.
A Nostalgic Glance: The Era of Rotary Phones
I still remember the days of the rotary phone.
Those hefty, stationary devices with their distinct, clicking dials and the satisfying whirr as the numbers spun back into place.
They were a far cry from the smartphones of today, yet they held a certain charm. There was something intentional about using a rotary phone. Each call required deliberate action—a conscious decision to reach out, to connect.
The act of dialling itself was a small ritual, each number pressed with a sense of purpose. When the phone rang, it commanded attention. The entire household would pause, a moment of suspense hanging in the air. Was it good news? Bad news? A simple chat with a friend or a dire emergency?
The uncertainty added a layer of significance to each call. The phone was a bridge to the outside world, but it was also a gatekeeper, demanding consideration before crossing that bridge.
In contrast, the phone also carried a certain weight of unease. In the silence of the night, a sudden ring could send a jolt of fear through the heart, its sound sharp and insistent like an alarm.
For those working late hours or on call, like myself during my early IT days, the phone became synonymous with stress. The dreaded ring in the dead of night often signalled trouble—a system failure, a critical incident that needed immediate attention. In those moments, the phone was not a tool of convenience but a harbinger of anxiety, a device that could shatter the peace of the night with its mere presence.
The Mobile Revolution: Freedom and Its Price
Fast forward a few decades, and the world witnessed the birth of the mobile phone.
The era of the (Grande Valse‘) solo guitar music by Francisco Tárrega, ingrained in our minds due to the rise of the famous Nokia brand and this default ringtone.
Suddenly, the freedom to communicate was no longer confined to the walls of our homes or the reach of a cord. The phone became a companion, roaming free with us, always within arm’s reach. It was liberating, empowering even, to be reachable anywhere, anytime.
The initial justification for owning a mobile phone was often rooted in safety. “Just in case something bad happens to you,” was the common refrain. It was a security blanket, a reassurance that help was always just a call away. For those of us working in high-stress environments like IT, where the possibility of a midnight crisis loomed large, the mobile phone became an essential tool. It was the modern-day equivalent of a first aid kit—necessary, and practical, but not something you wanted to use unless necessary.
Yet, as the phone’s capabilities expanded, so too did its demands on our attention. The mobile phone was no longer just a device for making calls. It became a gateway to the world, a portal through which we could access information, entertainment, and social connections at any moment. But with this newfound freedom came a price. The phone was no longer content to sit quietly in our pockets, waiting to be used. It began to demand our attention, with notifications, alerts, and updates constantly vying for our time and focus.
The Digital Age: A New Relationship with Our Phones
As our phones grew smarter, they also grew more intrusive. What was once a tool for communication became something akin to a digital companion, constantly requiring care and attention. The phone needed to be charged, updated, and managed. It buzzed and beeped with notifications, each sound a call to action that interrupted our thoughts and pulled us away from the present moment.
In many ways, our relationship with our phones began to resemble that of a parent and child.
Attention Seeker
The phone became a demanding, attention-seeking presence in our lives, constantly needing to be fed (with electricity), entertained (with new apps), and cared for (with regular updates). It was no longer just a device; it had become a baby of sorts, dependent on us for its survival and, in turn, making us increasingly dependent on it.
This shift in our relationship with our phones has had profound implications for our lives. The constant notifications and alerts have turned our phones into adversaries of our time and attention. They have made it harder to focus, to be present in the moment, and to connect with the world around us. The phone has become a source of distraction, pulling us away from the things that truly matter.
To reclaim some control over my time and attention, I decided to remove all notifications from my so-called “smartphone.” The irony is not lost on me—this device that is supposed to be “smart” is, in reality, just a collection of apps and features that, while convenient, often serve to distract rather than enhance my life. Perhaps the term “smartphone” is a misnomer.
A more accurate name might be “digital mobile phone,” a device that is digital in nature but not necessarily intelligent in its use.
The notion of the smartphone being “smart” may be a clever marketing ploy, a way to convince us that we are gaining something valuable when, in reality, we may be giving up more than we realize. The phone, with all its apps and features, has become a digital persona, an entity that exists to consume our time and attention, often at the expense of our well-being.
The Impact on the Next Generation
My dear phone, one of the most concerning aspects of our growing dependence on phones is the impact it is having on the next generation. I see babies being handed phones, not as tools for communication or learning, but as pacifiers—a way to keep them quiet or entertained.
The phone has become a substitute for parental attention, a cold and unemotional device that is being entrusted with the task of raising our children.
As these children grow up, they are forming a bond with their phones that may be stronger than their bond with the world around them. The phone becomes their constant companion, a source of comfort and entertainment, but also a source of information and influence. They are growing up in a world where the phone is not just a tool, but a trusted advisor, a guide through life. And as they come to rely more and more on their phones, they may find themselves increasingly disconnected from the real world.
The submissive posture we adopt when it comes to our phones—mindlessly scrolling, swiping, and tapping—is not so different from the submission of previous generations to authoritarian regimes or oppressive systems. Just as liberties were sacrificed in the past for the sake of security or convenience, we are now sacrificing our attention, our time, and our mental well-being for the sake of the digital world.
The phone has become a tool of control, shaping our behaviours and thoughts in ways that we may not fully understand.
The Health Concerns: Radiation and Beyond
Another issue that often goes unmentioned in discussions about our phones is the potential health risks associated with their use. The radiation emitted by phones is a topic of ongoing debate, with some studies suggesting a link to health issues such as cancer, while others dismiss these concerns as unfounded. Whether or not the radiation from phones poses a significant health risk is still unclear, but it is a reminder that our relationship with our phones is not without potential consequences.
Beyond the physical health risks, there are also mental health concerns associated with phone use. The constant barrage of notifications, the pressure to be constantly connected, and the addictive nature of social media can all take a toll on our mental well-being. We are becoming more anxious, more stressed, and more prone to depression as a result of our phone use. Once a tool of convenience, the phone is now a source of emotional turmoil.
The New Apex Predator: Our Phones
As we continue to rely more and more on our phones, we must ask ourselves what we want our relationship with these devices to be. Are we content to be slaves to our phones, constantly at their beck and call, or do we want to reclaim control over our time and attention? The roles are shifting, and it is becoming increasingly clear that our phones are not just tools but entities that require us to exist. In this sense, we are becoming food for our phones—sustaining them with our time, our attention, and our energy.
The phone has evolved from a simple communication device into something much more powerful, something that is shaping our lives in ways we may not fully understand. It is a new apex predator, one that is rising in dominance, whether we like it or not. And as this predator grows stronger, we must decide how we will respond. Will we continue to feed it, allowing it to consume more and more of our lives, or will we take a step back, reclaiming our time and attention for the things that truly matter?
The Comfort of Non-Judgment: Phones, AI, and Self-Esteem
There’s a noticeable shift in how people engage with technology versus human interactions. Many find solace in the non-judgmental nature of phones and AI. Unlike human interactions, which can often come with judgments and unconstructive feedback, technology seems to offer a more neutral, objective presence.
People turn to their phones and AI for validation and interaction because these tools, at least on the surface, are perceived as non-judgmental. They provide responses and information without criticism or emotional bias. This non-judgmental aspect of technology can be incredibly comforting, especially for those who may struggle with self-esteem or have a history of negative feedback from human interactions.
The comfort in interacting with non-human entities might reflect a deeper issue: a lack of self-esteem or a fragile sense of self-worth. When faced with human feedback, the potential for judgment and criticism can be daunting, especially for those who are still building their self-confidence. In contrast, the predictability and neutrality of phones and AI offer a semblance of control and acceptance, making them an attractive alternative to the complexities of human relationships.
This dynamic raises important questions about how we view ourselves and our interactions with others. Are we retreating into the safety of technology because we fear judgment or criticism? Are we relying on digital entities to fill a void left by our interactions with people? As technology continues to advance and integrate further into our lives, it’s crucial to reflect on how it shapes our perceptions and influences our emotional well-being.
Conclusion: A Message to Our Phones
My dear, dear phone, you have become a part of me in ways I never could have imagined. You are my connection to the world, my source of information, my entertainment, and my companion. But you are also my distraction, my stressor, and my burden. You demand so much of me—my time, my attention, my energy—and in return, you offer convenience, connection, and distraction.
But I must ask myself, is it worth it? Is the price I am paying for this relationship too high? As I look around at the world, at the people who are more connected to their phones than to each other, at the children who are growing up with screens as their primary caregivers, I cannot help but feel a sense of loss. We are losing something important, something fundamental to our humanity, in our rush to embrace this digital world.
So, my dear phone, I will continue to use you, but I will not let you control me. I will reclaim my time, my attention, and my life. I will remember that you are a tool, not a master, and I will use you as such. Because in the end, the most important connections are not those made through screens, but those made in the real world, with real people, in real-time. And that is something that no phone, no matter how smart, can ever replace.