On the importance of disconnect: giving you, you

For conversation's sake, I think I've had a phone with me almost constantly for every day of the last 20 years. Way back when, it was tapping out SMS (160 char or less!) on a Nokia, with their T9 predictive text firmly in muscle memory.

The Sony Ericsson had a camera accessory, taking SMS to MMS with grainy photos no-one could see, Nokia took it to 5 (!!!) megapixels with the N95, and credible media playback.

Slowly 'phones' could do more: wallets, navigation, video, until they are the one device to rule all our needs, and ultimately us by dopamine delivery: a device that can give you almost any content almost anywhere, with near perfect noise cancellation.

None of this is new. YouTube is chock-full of 'dumb phone' reviews: phones that are conceptually more akin to the T68i than the modern hand computer, with most of them ending with 'ultimately this failed because...'

Apple Watch as Dumb Phone

For a long time I've espoused that the Apple Watch is the perfect dumb phone: just enough connectivity, just enough (all-protecting) entertainment to be useful, but with limited enough connectivity to be a chore to really use.

What I've come to realise of late, is that the Apple Watch is not dumb enough.

Eschewing Connectivity: leaving it at home

What I've realised, is that it's beneficial to have 0 connectivity. 0 distraction unless I intentionally bring it with me. I have taken to going out for walks, to the coffee shop, with either nothing, or just my partner. I am forced to be present in the world: if the noise in the coffee shop is distracting, I either have to abandon my book that I might have brought with me (currently Queer by Frank Wynne), join in, or find what I am actually looking for. My partner and I are present with each other in a way one can't be when one can just quickly look something up, or receive a text or a call.

How do you do the thing that the phone does?

• Pay: take my bank card. I'll admit, it took me a minute to find it.
• Take photos: take my camera. Sure, it's 1.2kg, but it means that I'm intentionally thinking about taking photos, not just in case.
  • WHAT IF YOU MISS THE PHOTO? I probably will. Several. My partner introduced me to this thing, a memory picture. Using my wetware, I can enjoy the image now, and retain notes for later should I wish to recreate it, either in my imagination, or some other medium.
  • Don't want a 1.2kg monster? Gazillions of dinkier models abound, eg the DJI Osmo Pocket 3 (~£330 second-hand), and it'll even record videos!
• Handle information: pen and paper.
  • Directions? Write them down. Mebbe a wee drawing, or take a map. Remember that you can - and this is a thing ASK OTHER PEOPLE. I know. It makes you vulnerable; they could give you dishonest or wrong directions,
  • Thoughts? Write them down.
  • Contact information? Write it down.
  • The pen and paper is an insane piece of technology that has been fetishised out of all sane proportion by EDC, but my Dad would take junk mail, fold it in half (the magic of A4 --> A5), rip it in two with a rule, and bind them with a bulldog clip. Or you can buy a Calepino.
• Listen to music or an audiobook: I have a Sony MP3 Walkman that I bought for £100 or so on eBay. It's not great: the processor is slow, the screen is dim, but it runs Android so it can run Plexamp and Audiobookshelf. I mostly use it when I'm running, putting it in a waterproof pocket if it's raining.
• Read a book: take a Kindle, or the paper tome.

Convoluted? Depends on your world view. Means owning more things? Yep, definitely. Notebook, MP3 player, camera. Each an intentional choice that reflects what I want to do.

What does this disconnect give you?

Essentially, it gives me, me. I am my own thoughts, not the constant chittering of the internet.

What's more valuable than being given yourself?

But what if...

I have taken a radical view of the world: if something has happened, it's happened.

I need to be responsible about managing expectations, so professionally, making sure I'm not indulging in disconnect whilst on-call; personally telling friends and family about the wonders of not hearing from them for hours, and then I'm off.

Am I some crazy chick on the internet? Sure. Mebbe. Here are some other people espousing the same thing, more eloquently:

Looking forward to hearing from you when you get back from that walk. If I need you, I'll leave a message on your machine.