It’s a trap!
What disconnection and dieting have in common, and why success is unlikely
Once introduced as ‘magical, revolutionary products’, many of us have recently begun to question whether smartphones are deserving of the central role they play in our lives.
Although Australians have been enthusiastic adopters of smartphone technology, 39% of Australian smartphone users now think that they use their phones too much and more than a third of concerned consumers try, but fail, to curb their smartphone-use.
There is talk of addiction , of measurable anxiety at the prospect of not being able to access our phones (which have become more like bodily extensions than separate devices). Parents are worried about their kids’ phone use (although the opposite might be just as much of an issue ), and there is even a word for this new condition: ‘Nomophobia’ or ‘the fear of not being able to use one’s phone’.
Smartphone technology was supposed to give us more control over our lives, particularly our time.
But when you’re sitting in a communal study space with 10 other students, and a slight vibration against your arm results in 11 people checking their phones as if on command, you seriously begin to wonder: who’s controlling whom?
So who will save us from our addiction to phones? Don’t worry. There is an app for that! Loads of them actually.
Enter stage left: screen-time control and monitoring apps.
It seems a little counter-intuitive, but apparently our phones can be both the villains and the saviours.
Even though I am happy to say that with 2 kids under 5, my attention remains firmly focussed on my analog life (more by necessity than choice) — I downloaded the app ‘Moment’ to get a better idea of what these apps can allegedly do for you:
It’s basically a very detailed version of the iPhone’s ‘SCREEN TIME’ function, measuring (amongst other things) how many times a day you pick up your phone, when and where you use it, and how much time you spend on which app.
There is also a family function that gives parents and kids the same power to enforce agreed screen-time limits, which makes ‘Moment’ one of the few apps that goes beyond purely focussing on parental control, and acknowledges excessive phone use as an inter-generational issue.
However, I find the concept of using an app to control your excessive app use questionable.
It means that to keep track of your screen-time, you still have to look at your screen. Considering that one of the metrics to measure how well you’re going is the number of times you pick up your phone, I don’t find it helpful that ‘Moment’ sends you notifications about your progress, which make you look at your phone.
But let’s put the actual usefulness of these apps aside and look at the bigger picture.
As a student of nutrition science, I have been itching to explore the parallels to a similar concept I am familiar with from a public health context, namely that of obesity and obesogenic environments.
It might seem a bit of a stretch, but bear with me…
The public discourses around unhealthy levels of digital media consumption (via our smartphones), as well as those around unhealthy levels of food intake, focus heavily on individual choice and responsibility.
But raising awareness and recommending healthier options to individuals can only take us so far.
The big question is: how sustainable are strategies that target behaviour on the individual level (e.g. apps to track your screen-time — or your food intake), whilst ignoring the environment we operate in?
What is increasingly being recognised, is that the struggle around health-promoting behaviours is not simply one of individual choice, but rather one of behavioural determinants.
This term is commonly used in public health contexts to describe environmental, economic and social factors — such as societal ideologies — which almost unnoticeably influence the choices we make day-to-day, and the ways in which they organise the environments we operate in (Neoliberal capitalism, I’m looking at you!).
To illustrate their complexity and inter-connectedness, nothing beats a good visual, like this one by shiftn (true to their motto ‘clarity in complexity’).
If we wanted to re-appropriate this diagram and use it in a digital media context, replacing the word ‘food’ with the word ‘media’ and the word ‘energy’ with the word ‘time’, would already take us most of the way there.
And here are just a few of those determinants:
(1) environmental: an ever-increasing selection of apps, literally limitless levels of online content — complete with unlimited data plans and a fast approaching 5G network;
(2) social: the convenience (and, in a globalised world, the necessity) of using digital platforms to stay in touch with friends and family - the very humanness of social interaction;
(3) economic: digital media industries (e.g. the ‘big players’ in the platform economy) who are constantly ‘nudging’ us towards the choices that promote their agenda of economic growth, exploiting users whilst pretending to empower them.
But if individual changes alone aren’t enough, where do we start?
Well, there are a few ideas out there already that look beyond individual responsibility.
The French recently attempted a policy-level approach to address ‘info-obesity’: In January 2017, a law took effect giving employees of large organisations the ‘right to disconnect’, and to not answer emails outside of work-hours.
A laudible idea, but without re-training of staff to reduce the total amount of inbox traffic, and without penalties for ‘law-breakers’ it lacks the teeth required to do any real damage, and truly change workplace culture.
OFFTIME’s Alexander Steinhart started with an individual-level approach to curbing our digital ‘junk food ’ consumption, but also offers a workplace-tool for employers.
Still, although the apps’ ‘executive assistant’ function might help you ‘train’ some of your colleagues and friends in more appropriate communication practices, it is more of a band-aid solution.
Alas, with surprisingly few options available to address ‘info-obesity’ in any impactful way, a true public health approach might yet be our best bet.
And whilst there might not be an app, there’s a charter for that.
The Ottawa Charter works to:
(I could not have said that any more concisely)
Yes it looks and sounds boring. Yes it would require some serious ‘nudging’ in the right direction to get this going (we’re yet to see it implemented to address obesogenic environments). But a sharing of responsibility is a good place to start. And it might actually be a way to turn the Titanic, instead of just moving the deckchairs.
