Why I Ditched My Smartphone

Chris Kiess
The Quintessence of Dust
8 min readJan 18, 2016

--

Recently, I sold my iPhone on eBay and didn’t replace it. I let my phone number of more than a decade free and declined my carrier’s “generous offer” to renew my contract for a discounted rate on a new phone. What was most interesting about this is how people reacted given smartphones are a relatively new technology. By “relatively new,” I mean smartphones aren’t like indoor plumbing or electrical outlets and fixtures in your home. They aren’t necessarily a no-brainer item we have to have. But, the reaction I get from people when I tell them I don’t have a phone is similar to the reaction I would expect if I told them I didn’t have running water or a toilette in my home. They simply can’t fathom not having a phone.

My wife asked me, “What if I fall in the store or something and can’t get ahold of you?” My response was she should be more concerned about calling an ambulance if she is seriously injured. Since I am not a doctor, I wouldn’t be of much service. But how will I know what happened to her if they whisk her away to a hospital via ambulance? I suppose I could always be paged via the store intercom. That is, after all, what we used to do before everyone was carrying around a phone with a hard drive in it.

One friend asked me how people would, now, get in touch with me? I do have a Google Voice number I don’t give out frequently. My pat answer to this question is, they can’t…or they can use email. They can even use a text message since I do have an iPad and you can text to an email.

I have received all sorts of questions concerning how I would manage to survive in today’s world without a Smartphone permanently attached to my person. But, mostly people just ask me, “why?”

It isn’t that I am too poor to own a phone. I actually make a pretty good living for myself though I do bristle a bit at spending approximately $75 per month just to have a way for other people to contact me on a phone — despite all of the other ways people can get in touch with me (multiple emails, Google+, LinkedIn, texting etc.). The real crux of the issue for me is simply having entirely too many devices, too many interruptions and paying for services I really don’t use.

Last year I began to become annoyed with all of the devices I was carrying with me. As of last fall, I had 2 laptops, a desktop computer, an iPad and an iPhone. With all of the OS updates and the unnaturally quick aging of electronic items, it has become a royal pain in the ass to keep everything working smoothly and updated. It has become something of a financial issue replacing computers, phones, tablets etc. And this is all a hassle, adding a layer of complexity to my life I simply don’t need.

The interruptions of having too many devices becomes an annoyance as well. I get texts on multiple devices, phone calls go through to my computer often (as FaceTime calls) and email notifications galore. Sure, you can turn all of this stuff off. But I began to wonder if I really needed to be this accessible — especially considering the costs associated with having this much technology.

Ultimately, I don’t use half of what I pay for — suggesting I don’t need it. I don’t use most of the data on my phone or iPad plan. I don’t tether devices to my laptop. I rarely even use one of my laptops or my desktop computer. My iPad is mostly used for gaming. And I realized in the past year, I can’t even stand to talk on the phone.

Corporations like Apple have created markets for product niches where you feel as though you have to have each product. The desktop computer, I theorize, has a larger screen and I am a designer. Thus it seems justifiable for me to have an iMac. But, I also need a laptop for travel. But, you can’t make a phone call anywhere with a laptop. So you better add an iPhone to the mix. But wait, what about recreational activities such as gaming, reading ebooks or just quickly checking email on a larger screen than the iPhone? Better get a tablet. Before you know it, you have devices for all sorts of different uses. And you can easily justify them.

But this issue follows me — cascades — to other areas of my life. I’d be willing to bet I could count one hundred shirts in my closet — maybe more. I have less sets of slacks, but between jeans and dress pants, I probably have a few dozen. At least a third of my clothes don’t fit me any more — either too big or too small. I keep them just in case I lose or gain weight — preferably the former, which rarely seems to happen. I have books I will probably never live long enough to read, videos I’ll never watch again and enough furniture to seat a family of 14 comfortably (and only two people live in our house).

The thing is: I’m not a hoarder. I don’t own much more than the average American. It’s just that we seem to collect things through life — most of which we don’t need.

I remember buying my first house nearly 20 years ago. My parents purchased a dining table with two chairs for my daughter and I. We had moved from a single bedroom studio apartment and I had a single couch and a waterbed. I don’t think I even owned a lamp or a rug. When we moved into the new house I remember thinking, “How will I ever fill up this much space?” A few years later, I had managed to fill the place up and was running out of room for all that we had acquired. Where in the world, I wondered, did all of this shit come from?

And that’s the real point of this article: It’s all shit we acquire and somehow justify owning. In many instances, we can’t imagine living without it. Indeed, I have heard people say this about their phones. But, go into any Goodwill store and take a good look at where a lot of that shit ends up. That shiny new phone or gizmo you once thought was so great will end up here. You’ll have forgotten all about it before you get home after dropping off your box of junk behind the Goodwill.

What is the cost of owning these items? A more important question would be: What is the cost of owning these items in relation to purchasing something more meaningful with the same funds? My phone cost approximately $200 for the device with a 2-year contract at about $75 per month for the plan. This equates to $2,000 over a 2-year period. So, I am spending $1,000 per year to carry this hunk of metal and plastic in my pocket. That money could be better spent on a vacation since I have been wanting to visit several places here in the US for some time. Or, perhaps I could invest the money — in five years having more than $5,000 dollars saved plus interest on the investment.

The point is, I don’t really miss my phone after 3 months of not having it. I don’t remember much about the ownership of this phone and have had a perpetual contract for the past decade. That’s somewhere around $10,000 I have spent in the past decade to own a phone. When I think back over the past ten years, I remember vacations, times spent in new places and major events in my life such as graduations or dinners with families and/or friends. But, my cellphone doesn’t pop up in those memories — meaning I am investing in the wrong place.

Thinking about all of the other crap I buy that I don’t need, I wonder if I couldn’t have traveled the world several times over. I certainly could have done something more meaningful with all of that wasted money — some of which I didn’t even have at the time. It’s like Tyler Durden stated in Fight Club,

“Man, I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables — slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need.”

This is who I have been for, perhaps, my entire life. But, I am beginning to think differently. I am tired of “working jobs I hate to buy shit I don’t need.” One of the keys to happiness, I believe, is being happy with what you have and not spending time thinking of what you might have some day. This isn’t just about money though. We often suppose we will be happy when we just get that promotion or that new toy or that new job. But it’s an illusion. Our wants and needs are never fulfilled and thus we must learn to be happy with what we have, with our today, with who we are now.

I theorize if I spend less time investing energy and thought in my future happiness (i.e. assuming I will be happy when I have x) , I can empower myself to not only invest my energy in who I am and what I have today, but I would also have more time, funds and resources to make an impact on the world through my life. Ultimately, this is about figuring out what your necessities in life are and what waste you can remove.

I look around my life and I see a lot of waste — a lot than can go and I’ll never miss it. The waste in our life clouds our vision and shrouds the truly meaningful aspects of existence. Anything that doesn’t push you closer to your goal of a greater and grander existence in this world is simply holding you back. So ditch your goddamn smartphones, the expensive cable and your 6 dollar daily lattes. Forget about the True Religion jeans and the widescreen TV you think will bring you happiness. Figure out what really makes you happy and why all the luxury surrounding you doesn’t make you any happier than before.

In the words of Tyler Durden:

“You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug. Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

--

--

Chris Kiess
The Quintessence of Dust

Healthcare User Experience Designer in the Greater Chicago area