It took me three times but I finally did it. The smartphone-free life. Filled with bliss and riches (depending on how you count the rich life).
It wasn’t easy. But after three starts-and-stops, I can safely say I have not owned a smartphone for at least six months. I have not looked back, and I’m not going back.
Here’s how I got here and a little of why.
First Love
I got my first smartphone around maybe 2008 or ’09. I did wait a little longer than most people I knew when they first came out but I eventually jumped on the same bandwagon (or off the same cliff) everyone else did.
And I loved it. The apps. There’s an app for this. An app for that. You remember the days. We were in our first love and the world was infinite and opening up for us in almost every way. It was a beautiful thing.
I even pushed it on other people. My wife spent months saying, “You don’t need one. I don’t need one. We’re not getting one.” Eventually I got one and after she saw a certain sexy commercial that showed her all the things she could do with it, she eventually changed her mind and got one, too.
So I went through life like everyone else. I religiously and diligently downloaded all the software apps, upgraded my phone when I could, stayed up on the latest cool, helpful apps and games, etc., etc.
Until some time around 2017. I was living a pretty settled and predictable and comfortable life and started to wonder what it would look like if I got rid of my smartphone. I also read a piece by Andrew Sullivan (also on Substack) who wrote a life-changing article in New York magazine called “I Used to Be a Human Being.” His longform and in-your-face style changed my perspective, scared me about what I was becoming, what I had allowed to happen to my life, to my thinking and my habits. It shook me to my core, at least regarding what tech is doing to us.
I also read The Shallows by Nicholas Carr and it was another profound wake-up call.
I counted the cost, thought long and hard about it and finally decided to get rid of my smartphone. (I’ll write future posts about how exactly I did this, but needless to say, it wasn’t easy.)
In 2017, I ditched my smartphone for the first time.
Falling Off the Wagon
I lived without a smartphone for about a year. I loved it. But after some dramatic life changes—resigned from my job, lost my church, home, friends, some family, ministry, income, city I had called home, basically everything I had known—I was out West and without a job. Back on the market.
Of course, the first thing I did was get a smartphone. Obviously. For career-building purposes. I told myself I needed one to succeed, to find the best job out there, to land on my feet. I told myself I needed it for marketing myself, for LinkedIn, for networking. You know.
So I ran out, giddy almost, and signed up for a new phone.
A few months later, I landed a steady job. I’m not sure the phone really helped that much but who knows. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t.
Second Time
Once I landed on my feet, about nine months later, with a steady job, I started lusting again for the smartphone-free life.
I would look down at my new phone—do something inane that didn’t need doing, or check something that didn’t really need checking—and I would look up and daydream a little about what life was like on the other side. And then I would snap out of it and look back down at my phone. Then back up, daydream a little, then back down. Ad infinitum.
Until one day, some time in 2019, I finally mustered up the courage. My life was settled again and I felt like I could once again justify not having a smartphone.
I ditched it a second time. Yes!
Third Time’s the Charm
So I lived a little again in the glow of not being tied to a smartphone. I enjoyed it. I was flourishing.
But then, again due to job reasons, I told myself I needed a smartphone.
My phone was like a girlfriend I kept going back to (or mistress, I guess, since I’m a married man). I didn’t want to but I did. I would fling off my phone’s shackles and run about a free man, only to be wiled and seduced back in by some tech siren song.
This time I got a really cheap one—an iPhone 6 for $30. It was slow. Clunky. Its screen was cracked. It had barely any storage. It was so old certain apps didn’t even work. Its battery lasted about half a day before it needed charging again.
I guess I was punishing myself with this crappy piece of junk phone. Penance or something. But I still told myself I needed it for work stuff.
So I lived that way a little while. Until I got another job, was settled again—and after moving six times in 2.5 years, and cross-country twice in one year, and a ton of ups and downs—I felt like I was finally settling down enough to get rid of my phone a third and final time.
This was six months ago. And I’m never going back. Here’s why.
Why I Ditched My Smartphone
My kids. Plain and simple. In all honesty, if I was single, or dating, or newly married, or married for 10 or 20 years, I might not feel the same way about smartphones.
My kids are my number one reason I don’t own a smartphone. When I’m not working, and I’m home with them, I want to be present. Everyone always talks about being present now. It’s one of our eras catchphrases. But my question, for myself, was how can I be present with my kids if my phone is going off in my pocket, or if it’s sitting on the counter, beckoning, or if it’s in my hand?
Plus, one thing I learned quickly as a new father is that kids have a kind of sixth sense when they’re being ignored. They know when you’re distracted. Your friends or girlfriend or boyfriend or spouse or coworker might give you grace when you’re looking at your phone instead of being engaged with them but your kids will know and won’t be quiet about it.
The reality is, you can’t be present with other human beings, no matter their age, if you have a device as addictive as a smartphone anywhere near you.
My first child came in 2015 and after he was about one years old, I really started thinking about what kind of father I wanted to be. Did I want to be constantly pulled back and forth between giving him attention versus looking at my phone? What about at night, when I was with his mother? Did I want to be on my phone in bed with her when I should be talking to her or just sleeping?
I thought a lot about how, when I grew up, my parents weren’t on their phones all the time. Smartphones obviously didn’t exist in the ‘80s and ‘90s. My mom was around. She wasn’t ignoring me constantly. And my dad was around to some degree. At least when he was around he wasn’t staring down at the palm of his hand. I’m thankful for that.
I could say a lot more about this and I will in future posts. But after all the starts and stops of ditching my smartphone, and going back and forth three times, to eventually be here now without one, happy, satisfied, connected with the important people in my life, I have no regrets.
I know my kids (four of them now) will grow up knowing Dad chose them.