What happens when a digital writer tries a digital detox? My week of 'intentional' smartphone use

If you've clicked on this story and read even just the first line, I've already succeeded in one goal.

I'm a writer working in a digital world, so getting you to read stories online is part of my job. But I know attention wanes and within seconds, some of you will jump to something shinier, newer, prettier.

You and I, we share this in common — we live in this digital space together. We read, we scroll, we consume. We carry the world in our back pocket, and there's always something to demand our attention.

I don't know about you, but I'm tired. I'm overwhelmed, and I need a break.

Avoiding the cat-video rabbit hole

I decide to take a page out of the book of University of Regina professor David Gerhard and his family. They'd been talking about tackling about what some call a "no-screen November."

"We do spend a lot of time on our phones. We'd all be sitting around at dinner and poking around our screens," he tells me.

Over the course of two weeks, I know for sure [my family has] had conversations that we wouldn't have if we were staring at a phone, instead of staring at each other.- David Gerhard

Gerhard pointed out it's a tough task to divorce ourselves completely from smartphones, when we use them for just about everything.

The challenge is to be intentional, to use the phone for what we need and then put it away rather than falling into a rabbit hole of funny cat videos.

"Over the course of two weeks, I know for sure [my family has] had conversations that we wouldn't have if we were staring at a phone, instead of staring at each other," Gerhard told me.

What might my family learn from doing the same, I wondered. I joke that my husband's phone is a mistress that's impossible to compete with: she's sleek, infinitely knowledgeable and always gives him the latest sports scores and analysis. I often want to break her in half.

'The algorithm is us'

My family grumbled a bit about it at first, but they agreed to go along with the experiment — one week of "intentional" smartphone use, meaning for the entire week, we'd only turn to our phones when absolutely necessary. No cat videos and Candy Crush for us.

The irony is not lost on me. I'm a digital writer who depends on the web and an "attention economy" for a living.

But Gerhard points out that it's not content itself that is bad. It's how we engage with content. Social posts and news that are tension-filled or that drive conversation — but that also aggravate us —  tend to get shared and commented on. Then we end up seeing more of it.

"We blame the algorithm, but the algorithm is us," said Gerhard.

Maybe if we changed how we consumed social media and news — purposefully and intentionally, rather than constantly and voraciously —we wouldn't feel so bombarded and we would get more out of it.

And what about friendships? My husband says he depends on his phone to maintain relationships with people who are far away.

But strangely, if your phone is good for maintaining relationships, why has its use been linked to sleep disruption, loneliness, anxiety, depression and even increased risk of suicide?

There are probably multiple reasons for this, but let's just take the example of a birthday.

Gerhard and I both had birthdays in November. I took five minutes to respond to messages on my phone, but Gerhard unapologetically tells me he simply ignored them, breezing right by without even making an obligatory Facebook post to say, "Thank you for all the birthday messages!"

"It relates to how we feel the need to be connected," he said of these posts.

But does it, really? Can a 10-second throwaway birthday wish substitute for face-to-face interaction over overpriced coffee, or a phone call, or even a more heartfelt, personalized message?

It's not even close.  

"If we're not careful, that connection becomes really surface," Gerhard points out.

How to go beyond surface

In a week of reducing phone use, I tried to go beyond the surface and forge personal, meaningful connections.

My husband and I survived without his mistress. We held hands and had honest conversations late into the night. My kids survived without gaming apps. And when we watched a movie, we enjoyed it together, laughing and crying together at the appropriate bits instead of watching with one eye on a social media feed or crushing virtual candies.  

At the end of a busy, active weekend, my youngest lay on my lap and drifted off to sleep. My mind was in a different space. I didn't feel anxiety or that hyperactive need to look at my phone to see what was new or what I should do next.

I just sat there, aware of her warmth, of every shade of gold in her hair, of her delicate features and her eyelashes fluttering to a close.

I didn't feel the need to reach for a phone and capture the moment, or hashtag it, #Adorable #MyWorld #Love.

The moment was fleeting but I was present. And it felt so much sweeter for that.