Life Without a Smartphone

Spray paint art by Banksy.

I don’t own a smartphone. Never have. My friends and family don’t understand. They call me a luddite, a troglodyte, a technophobe. I don’t care. I have no desire to become captive to the cellular gods. People ask me, “Don’t you feel excluded from modern day living?” Yes, I answer. And it’s wonderful. I’m not addicted to a device. I don’t spend hours swiping, ogling, scrolling, tapping.

I’m annoyed by people who talk on their phones while shopping. I don’t understand people who photograph meals then post pics online. I’m infuriated by drivers who weave on the freeway while looking at their phone.

The benefits of smartphones are extolled as if no one ever lived without one. You can discover anything at any time, people say. You can find directions, get restaurant reviews, check Instagram, listen to any song anywhere. A friend used his iPhone to take photos after a car accident. He later confessed the accident occurred while he was looking at his phone. I witnessed a young woman staring at her phone while crossing the street. She was nearly struck by a car but seemed more upset by her dropped phone than the fact she nearly died.

I’m not against technology. I love my laptop, I appreciate online banking, I’m reliant on Zoom. But I’m repelled by smartphones. Everywhere I look I see hypnotized zombies staring at their phones while eating, driving…