Looking over my shoulder, I surveyed my surroundings. My hands had become clammy, and my heart was racing. It was a Saturday night in Bristol – and I had somehow found myself alone, lost and walking through a dark back street. I was far enough away from the main roads that I was completely surrounded by silence; and I was sure I could hear footsteps coming from behind me, getting closer. Louder.
‘Why did I take this route?’ I thought to myself, desperately. I was vulnerable, and anyone dodgy who happened to walk down this same street could see that as an opportunity. I was sure I had walked this way before, but it was unrecognisable. I took a left turn, and another instinctively – but then realised I had completely lost my bearings. As panic set in, I recalled recent news stories I had read of women being attacked in the city. I imagined my name in the next headline.
I pulled my brick phone out of my bag and stared at it. Useless. No Uber to get me out of this sticky situation. No map app to help me find my way to the pub where I was supposed to meet my friends in five minutes. This had never happened to me before, and I vowed to myself it would not happen again. From that moment, every decision I made would be based entirely on my safety. The only reason I found myself in that situation to begin with was because I had decided to take part in a ‘digital detox’ a week earlier.
The Decision to Go Analogue
I had swapped my smartphone for a dumbphone when, after an accidental hour scrolling on social media and feeling increasingly anxious at the bombardment of bad news after bad news, I decided enough was enough. I was not going to keep obsessively refreshing my 24-hour news apps or lose hours at a time to mindless scrolling. I was going to remove myself from that world completely. Determined to transform my spare time, relationships and life in general, I embarked on an analogue experiment: with the aim that, if I liked it, I would never go back to my iPhone again. In my new world, I would only use the phone to make calls and send only the most necessary texts (and play the occasional game of Snake).
Initial Success and Growing Confidence
On the first morning of my experiment, I woke to the radio alarm clock next to me and reached for my smartphone – a routine I had had since my teens. But alas, it was locked away in a kitchen drawer. So instead, I stared into space, letting my brain slowly wake up without any stimulation. It was not surprising that my mood and energy were instantly boosted – and that feeling lasted all day.
In fact, that feeling only grew. For the first couple of days, I thought I had cracked the secret to feeling happy. Without the constant interruption of notifications or the desire to unlock and scroll on my phone for no reason, I felt present in the moment and creative. I was writing, reading and even calling people for catch-ups instead of leaving lacklustre comments beneath their Facebook posts.
The Turning Point: A Night Out in Bristol
But the real challenge came next: A night out in Bristol’s city centre. I was venturing out solo, preparing to leave my home without my iPhone for the first time in over 10 years. On a piece of paper, I noted down the bus routes that stopped outside my house, and slipped it into my bag. I had a couple of niggling doubts – such as whether anyone would think to update me if the plans changed, now that I was no longer in the WhatsApp group – but I just put them down to misplaced digital anxiety.
When my bus was cancelled, I realised my concerns were justified. But the meeting time was fast approaching, and I had visited the pub before, so I decided I could figure out how to walk there. And that is when I found myself lost on a dark back street, with none of the digital safety fallbacks I had become so accustomed to. What initially seemed like the best experiment of my life ended up being cut short after just a few days.
Eventually, I found my way to a main road and asked a passerby where the pub was. While I did eventually arrive – incredibly shaken but thankfully unharmed – I realised this experiment might not be a safe one.
Mounting Challenges and Isolation
As the week continued, more problems arose – most of them stemming from that first night out. I was no longer confident to be spontaneous when I met friends, having pre-planned my journeys to and from certain areas, which led to a few eyerolling reactions from friends. On top of that, I realised I could not get into clubs, events or gigs without emailing an e-ticket to a friend beforehand and ensuring we arrived together.
Without being able to rely on real-time public transport updates, solo adventures were off the cards. Even a simple journey into the centre for a coffee became an ordeal when my usual bus was cancelled, and I had to walk back in the rain, miserable because I could not remember which bus left from what stop. I also discovered that having a meaningful conversation by texting on a brick phone is near impossible given how long it took me to type compared to others; and, often, friends were too busy for a phone call. It left me feeling completely out of the loop, especially without my WhatsApp group chats. When I was actually able to organise seeing my friends, I was so nervous to leave the house without an iPhone that I often ended up cancelling. When I realised I had to navigate three different buses to see a friend who lived outside of the centre, it was easier to just give up and apologise.
Admitting Defeat
What initially seemed like the best experiment of my life ended up being cut short after just a few days, as I admitted defeat. I dug out my old iPhone and gratefully returned to ‘normality’ – because, while I had been excited to try ‘going analogue’, my confidence had dwindled, I was scared of leaving the house, and I felt isolated from everyone I knew. Most importantly, after that night out in Bristol, I realised I needed the safety features I had come to rely on with modern technology; like location sharing, to name just one.
Of course, I know I am lucky that my one bad experience was not ‘life-threatening’, but it was enough to leave me feeling totally powerless and completely out of control. Now, I just have to rely on my own willpower to stop scrolling. It does not always work; but at least I have regained my independence – and that is not something I will ever take for granted again.
