Like many university students, departing for college involved numerous farewells. Alongside saying goodbye to my cherished childhood memories, I made a bold decision to part ways with my iPhone.
Weary of the constant email checking, aimless Weather app perusals, and social media drama, I was determined to end the toxic bond with my smartphone.
A couple of weeks before embarking on my journey to the University of Minnesota, I removed the SD card from my iPhone 13 and inserted it into a device known as the Light Phone II. This unconventional phone allowed me to make calls and send texts without the distractions of email, web browsing, or third-party applications. It sported a unique appearance—a compact, gray rectangle featuring a black-and-white e-ink display.
“It appears as though you shrunk a Kindle,” remarked my father humorously.
It was an instant attraction, and nearly two years later, I harbor no regrets.
Joe Hollier, in collaboration with product designer Kaiwei Tang, established Light, the company behind the Light Phone II. This initiative stemmed from Hollier’s disillusionment with his involvement in a Google-backed design school named 30 Weeks. The program aimed to develop new smartphone applications geared towards maximizing profits through data collection and advertisements, neglecting the genuine needs and desires of consumers, as he perceived it.
He refers to the transition to his company’s simplified technology as “going light”—a process of reducing our dependence on attention-grabbing, time-consuming devices.
“I sensed that everyone I interacted with was consistently overwhelmed and yearning for an escape,” Hollier expressed. “That’s where the concept of ‘going light’ originated, reminding ourselves of a time before we were constantly tethered to the online world.”
Adapting to the Light Phone II posed a learning curve. Texting on its compact keyboard proved challenging, accompanied by a peculiar buzzing noise with each keystroke. After exploring the music player, contacts list, and notes application repetitively, I ran out of avenues for amusement. However, my initial frustration transformed into contentment as I realized that embracing boredom was the underlying purpose.
Although I attempted to utilize the phone’s navigation feature, I found it cumbersome and impractical. Consequently, I often find myself unaware of the bus or train schedules, resorting to written directions while driving. While adapting to the uncertainty enhanced my navigation skills, the stress of not having immediate access to directions is undeniable.
“While using the Light Phone may present inconveniences, the regained hours of time and attention span outweigh these challenges,” remarked Hollier.
Throughout my tenure at the University over the past two years, my focus has shifted from dwelling on the Light Phone’s limitations to appreciating the peace of mind it offers. No longer do I interrupt social outings to check Canvas notifications, procrastinate on assignments by scrolling through Instagram, or lose myself in a Google search spiral during extended bathroom breaks.
I’ve cultivated increased concentration and mindfulness in all aspects of my life. If that entails looking up the address of a social gathering before leaving my residence, so be it.
The primary drawback of using the Light Phone isn’t the device itself.
It’s the disheartening sight of classmates engrossed in their phones while gathered around a table. It’s the frustration of witnessing a sunset from a bus amidst a sea of glowing screens, wishing others would appreciate the fading sky instead of indulging in brief video clips. It’s the unsettling realization that smartphones have significantly hindered our ability to engage with our physical environment, with inconclusive evidence regarding their long-term impact on our minds and society.
Perhaps my sentiments sound exaggerated—undoubtedly, smartphones have facilitated heightened connectivity on both local and global scales. They have opened up new employment opportunities, provided access to vital safety resources, and serve as a reliable source of entertainment. However, do these devices justify their detrimental effects on our well-being?
Since the advent of the iPhone in 2007, rates of teenage depression have surged, accompanied by a nearly 50% increase in loneliness levels, according to a survey by Monitoring the Future. This FDA-sponsored research program has been surveying eighth, 10th, and 12th-grade students across the United States since 1991. Adolescents are spending less time socializing with friends, engaging in fewer dates, and experiencing a decline in sexual activity.
Patrick Smith, the principal of Maple Grove Middle School, implemented a school-wide prohibition on smartphones, resulting in a swift transformation of the school culture.
“Students now engage in face-to-face conversations at their lockers,” Smith observed. “During lunch, they interact across the table.”
Smith noted an enhanced classroom engagement and an increase in completed assignments among students.
Procrastination and diminished productivity are not exclusive to middle schoolers. We are all familiar with how a brief 10-minute social media session can effortlessly morph into an hour of mindless scrolling. Yet, when individuals encounter my phone, their initial query typically revolves around, “How do you manage like this?”
I often find myself tempted to pose the same question to them.
While the Light Phone II may not suit everyone, possessing a supercomputer in your pocket is not a prerequisite for survival. After all, our ancestors thrived for 200,000 years without such devices.
Though the world may appear centered around QR codes and applications, eighteen months post my separation from the iPhone 13, I feel more interconnected with life than ever before.
Even amidst periods of stress, the sun faithfully rises each morning. If only one would lift their gaze from their phone, they too could witness its beauty.