This summer, I broke up with my phone.

I’d been thinking about it for a long time, always finding reasons not to follow through. I was using it too much and then feeling depleted by the end of the day. But when I went on sabbatical and a new kind of space opened up, I wondered if I finally had the courage to do it. Around the same time, I came across a book by Catherine Price, aptly titled How to Break Up with Your Phone. That was the nudge I needed. 

The first half of Price’s book explores how technology is intentionally designed to be addictive. It is meant to be a sobering read. Here is an example: 

“I’d argue that…if you wanted to invent a device that could rewire our minds, if you wanted to create a society of people who were perpetually distracted, isolated, and overtired, if you wanted to weaken our memories and damage our capacity for focus and deep thought, if you wanted to reduce empathy, encourage self-absorption, and redraw the lines of social etiquette, you’d likely end up with a smartphone.”

Ouch.

The second half of the book offers a structured breakup plan and even includes the directive to write a letter to your phone. Mine went something like this:

It’s you, and it’s me. You’ve been engineered to grab my attention and keep me distracted—it works for your algorithm, and it makes people money. And here’s the thing: I let you. I do appreciate a lot of what you offer, but I need to clear my head. I need some changes.

So, I took a deep breath and started. I did a 48 hour detox. I deleted social media apps and games. I made my home screen black and added a question to it: “WHY DID YOU PICK ME UP?” I also moved my charging station off my bedside table and into another room.

One of the things that Catherine Price talks about is how smartphones keep getting easier to use. For instance, to open your phone you first had to type in a passcode. Then it became a fingerprint. Now, you just look at it. The point is to reduce friction. And so, I found ways to add friction. I made it a requirement for me to type out my username and password for each application every single time. It is amazing how that added step helped me to pause and ask, Do I really need to do this right now? 

As my sabbatical draws to a close, I’m cautiously optimistic that this new relationship with my phone is sustainable. Ironically, I plan to use technology to protect me from technology. For example, I’ll return to social media—but with the help of an app that blocks access during certain times of day.

And I’ll keep asking myself: Why did I pick you up?

By putting this out there, I guess I’m also asking for a bit of accountability. Please don’t hesitate to check in and ask me about how this is going. 

My hope is that I can control my phone, not the other way around. I have to say, so far it has been worth the break-up.