Bring Back Dumb Phones

Serious 2000-era nostalgia.

john oparah
John’s Day Off
4 min readMay 9, 2019

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I can’t explain it, but lately, I’ve found myself having serious early noughties nostalgia. The great music and horrible style and awkward technology — everything. No doubt I’m looking back on it with rose-tinted goggles, but to me, that time just seems kind of better. In reality, it wasn’t. 9/11, the Iraq war and excessive, aggressive business practices that damaged the planet in ways we’re dealing with now will testify to that.

But I was really young, then. I didn’t give a crap about any of that stuff. Hell, I didn’t even know about it. I just liked listening to Sean Paul’s “Temperature” if it came on and watching Codename: Kids Next Door and Ben 10. Life seemed pretty sweet. Adults’ work/life balance was kind of chill and neighbourhoods were safer. Computers and tech and all that stuff existed, sure, but for very specific reasons. I remember, I used to think Google was a literal place you’d go to find out about anything you want. Back then — and maybe it’s just me here — tech was more of a tool than anything. Life was still analog for the most part; technology was mostly non-efficient, but it made life easier. And that was its purpose: to exist as an aid to your life. To make things easier. To add to your life.

But, looking now (again, maybe it’s just me), it seems like tech wants to become your life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s absolutely mind-blowing the amount of things you can do with modern tech (you can build a website on your phone, you can open an online store right now, you can run lifelike graphics on a freakin’ laptop), but it seems to be creeping deeper and deeper into the crevices of our lives that’re closer to us. Into places we’d only let the absolutely closest to us have access to. And it’s sat there — watching. Collecting. Recording. Knowing us more and more. And, because of how we’ve grown up with technology as our aid and friend, we’ve forgotten that there are people behind these apps and products. Companies who want to make more and more profit. Sure, they provide services that we love, with features that help us connect more easily. But they also wants to get us hooked.

Think about it. Can you imagine a world without Instagram, right now? Can you imagine how different that world will be? Or was some version of Instagram and Twitter always going to exist? Are they Thanos? Are they inevitable?

I think that’s why I miss the 2000s at the moment. I’m not saying it was perfect. Far from it. There was still gross business misconduct, discrimination was rife, people were more ignorant and less informed. We still had creepy corporations and crap tech, but hey, at least they couldn’t mine us for personal data. And they were more creative with their ads.

Plus, back then, it was easier to get bored. Boredom causes people to pick up something. A skill, a new hobby. Maybe finally do that thing. Who knows? Not you, ‘cus in the future, there is no getting bored. There is a constant barrage of information about one thing or another; more content to consume; new trends to understand; dopamine hits to chase. Gets harder to do things.

Our phones are the centre of our lives now. They’re the hotspot of everything ‘us’. They’re our access box to the world of digital, our portal to our virtual selves, realistic or not. The balance has shifted in a new way. Which is bad, in my honest opinion. Having a digital life is awesome, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like a chase — a need — to maintain that life, dreading the follower count reducing, tending to our presentation of ourselves online. It feels like an avatar of us.

On top of all that, people are starting to prefer that virtual world. Which sucks, because it means less meaningful connections and more effort going into maintaining a facade. Less boredom and exploration. Less thinking and wonder. Less people being people. At least the companies make a profit. Yay.

I think tech should be a tool for amplifying who we really are. I don’t know how to make a better web, but I think working outwards from a point of “how does this make life/us/the world better?” might help. Perhaps.

I don’t know, I just miss a time when there was less information in my diet. Or when I could be more selective about it. When phones could text and call, but the real deal was meeting IRL. When kids still wanted to play outside and pretend and try to be creative. When real life came first.

Sure, tech brought a lot of good. It still does.

I’m just wondering: where’s it headed? And who’s in charge?

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