The Man Without a Phone Notices What We Miss

•2 min read

The modern smartphone has been with us for only about two decades, yet it has already changed daily life: our behavior, expectations, and even the way we pay attention. A century ago, cars transformed physical landscapes. Smartphones may have done something similar to our minds.

That is one reason I value my friendship with Adrian. He has never owned a cellphone: not a smartphone, not a flip phone, not even an early brick-like model. He truly lives without one.

"It's entirely thanks to never having had a portable device that I got away with this," he told me. "Once you start, it's impossible to go back."

His lack of a phone sometimes annoys his friends. Once, he took a train to visit my family and did not realize that he needed to change trains. He missed the connection, ended up in the wrong place, and had to ask someone for directions. After taking a very long route, he arrived three hours late. He had finished the small book he always carries and seemed completely calm. Experiences like this do not convince him that he needs a phone.

I asked what he does when he gets lost. He looked confused. He rarely gets lost, he said, because he studies a map before leaving and writes the route on paper. If he does lose his way, he asks someone. "That's the whole point of being out and about," he told me. "Finding your way, in every sense."

I cannot remember the last time I went somewhere without my phone knowing exactly where I was and how long the trip would take. We have spent years removing life's small uncertainties: waiting for a train, or filling the empty minutes before someone arrives. We almost never have to be bored.

Adrian, however, is good at waiting. He reads. He also looks around and notices what the rest of us miss: an old detail on a building, the unusual name of a coffee shop, or a stranger he can talk to. He is not completely cut off. He uses a computer and email, and carries a notebook filled with addresses, quotations, and the names of people he meets.

"Amazing how a smartphone is becoming almost compulsory," he says. We built a world around the assumption that everyone carries one. As a result, carrying one has become almost necessary.

I envy Adrian, but I know I will not throw my phone away. Perhaps those of us who plan to keep our phones are asking the wrong question. Instead of asking how to spend less time on them, we might ask what deserves more of our attention.

Recently, I have tried Adrian's approach. I talk to people while standing in line. I call restaurants instead of immediately opening an app. I slow down while shopping and sometimes find something I was not looking for. I may never give up my phone, but I can still try getting a little lost.