I’m not sixty-five years old; I’m not even fifty. I’m twenty-eight and despite my friends’ occasional teasing, “When are you going to upgrade?” I don’t use a smartphone. Here’s why:
I don’t actually need one. My needs (and many of my wants) are met without a smart phone. I have a feature phone (dumb phone, non-smart phone, brick, soap bar, call it what you like) for calling and texting. I have a computer for word-processing, playing films and music, and accessing the internet. I have a camera for taking pictures and videos. For navigating, I use paper maps or look up directions ahead of time or talk to people. I haven’t yet become dependent on having constant internet access in my pocket when I leave my house. I’d rather stay independent.
I’d rather live in the moment than on the internet. Not having a smartphone forces me to be aware of where I am and to talk to other people if I am lost or in need of local knowledge. Having internet access in your pocket is a convenience, to be sure. But it is a convenience that I can live without. I reject the notion that faster and more is always better. Like writer and farmer Wendell Berry, before I adopt a new tool I’d like to ask, Will this make me and my community healthier? When I look around my community, I don’t see evidence of smartphones fostering health. I think you could actually make a case for the…
