Freed: A generation lost in smartphone space

I was in a crowded, but unusual room recently: a buzzing dining hall filled with 200 people, all talking enthusiastically.

Yet there wasn’t a single screen to be seen. There were no couples staring hypnotically at their phones instead of each other.

No one was sneaking glances at their texts beneath the table. No dinging alerts, loud phone conversations or apologies like: 

“Sorry, it’s an emergency, I have to take this. My cat is lonely and I need to talk to her on speakerphone.”

I was in London having dinner at a friend’s informal arts club restaurant where there were only two rules:

1: No phones.

2: No exceptions.

There was a huge 20-person oval table for people who had come alone, but with no phones there was nothing to do but talk to your neighbours, often strangers.

Overall, it was enforced socialization, and everyone seemed happier for it.

It was a reminder of another era when people only chatted face to face, not phone to phone. And I realized how much I missed it.

Increasingly, there are rules banning phones and social media in schools, including in Quebec. It’s a good start. But the truth is we could all use that ban. 

We used to tell our kids not to gaze at their phones around other people or during meals. But now almost everyone does, because we’re owned by our phones.

News junkies like me are hooked on the latest 24/7 breaking news updates of the previous breaking updates of the previous updates.

For others, it’s endless texting, gaming and scrolling, enhanced by dings, whistles and “likes” to keep you shooting up online.

For most young people, it’s their social media feed reminding them that someone somewhere is having a better time than them at a better bar or restaurant. 

So: “Compare and despair.”

The result: We are infinitely more connected than any humans in history to friends, colleagues and high school acquaintances we hadn’t thought of for 35 years — yet somehow we are lonelier. 

And we all know it because we’ve read the studies ourselves — on our phones.

We know our smartphones are rewiring our attention spans into that of goldfish with Netflix accounts. 

We know checking our feed every morning before speaking to another human, or gulping a coffee, isn’t recommended by any medical body — apart from Dr. Big Tech, who always prescribes more of the same.

Tens of thousands of highly-paid tech engineers work hard to keep us perpetually scrolling so their companies can assault us with ads. Or steal our data every 30 seconds, while we press AGREE, AGREE, AGREE like rats in a lab.

In recent months, lawsuits have found two major tech companies guilty of deliberately “addicting” people to their phones by using algorithms that keep us hooked, like tobacco companies did to foster cigarette addiction.

Our willpower barely stands a chance against this army of techno-nerds designing endless dings, pings, rings, bells, buzzes, vibrations, emojis, hearts, “likes” and other digital catnip to keep us hooked on our digital syringes.

Now with AI, it’s getting even more addictive as people hang out with AI “companions” instead of annoying human ones. 

AI always agrees and aims to please, unlike real friends who may argue instead of chirping “Fabulous idea, Josh,” even when it’s a terrible one.

In fairness, humans have always done things that are bad for us, like smoking, drinking, snacking, sitting, slouching and eating dessert.

The phone is just the latest chapter in a book called “Things We Do Despite Knowing Better,” which we are also reading on our phones.

What makes the smartphone uniquely devious is that it promises solutions to every problem it creates, with “self-help” apps right ON our phones.

Feeling anxious from social media? There are meditation apps on your screen between your Twitter feed and your Candy Crush game.

Insomnia from being online till midnight? Your phone will play relaxing whale sounds and rain patter, while you doomscroll Trump headlines at 4:30 a.m.

Worried you’re spending too much time on the screen? Your phone will provide regular reports telling you how worried to be and offering screen time limits at the press of a button.

But instead, you’ll push “SKIP FOR NOW,” just as phone designers planned. 

Some people are fighting back — against themselves. Increasingly, there are phone-free gatherings where you must lock up your phones like radioactive waste. 

Also, old-fashioned “dumbphones” that can’t connect to the Web, to wean you from your screen. 

In Quebec, we’ve banned phones in schools, and the more we do, the less isolated many students feel.

Maybe we all need to be barred from using our phones for several hours a day, as in my London dining room. 

Maybe we need a Quebec law with signs in every establishment saying: “No telephoning, Mon-Wed-Fri, 9-11 a.m. and 5-7 p.m. Violators will be ticketed.”

Maybe we all need a tech time out. So, if you’re reading this on your phone, put it down now …

Now.

You haven’t, have you? Then ask not for whom the phone scrolls — or chirps. 

It chirps for thee.

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