Simon Cowell's secret to happiness only works if you're a millionaire, as his fiancée Lauren Silverman revealed he has spent the last eight years without a mobile phone, calling the effect on his wellbeing 'extraordinary.' While many envy his digital detox, experts note that such a lifestyle is only feasible for the ultra-wealthy who can outsource daily tasks.
The Celebrity Digital Detox Trend
Simon Cowell has apparently spent the last eight years without a mobile phone, which his fiancée Lauren Silverman says has had an 'extraordinary' effect on his happiness and wellbeing. Reading this information was a bit like being told that drinking £2,000 champagne on a private island is a surprisingly effective way to reduce stress. I don't doubt it for a second; it just doesn't feel especially replicable.
Appearing on This Morning, Silverman explained that the Britain's Got Talent judge was 'ahead of the curve' when he ditched his phone eight years ago, freeing himself from the endless notifications, distractions and digital noise that most of us spend half our lives trying to wade through. 'The difference that it has made on him in a positive way, it's been extraordinary,' she said.
Again, I believe her. If somebody magically removed my work emails, WhatsApp messages inviting me to friends' amateur improv shows at 10pm on a Tuesday, Slack notifications, Royal Mail failed delivery alerts sent while I was ACTIVELY STARING OUT THE WINDOW WAITING FOR THE POSTMAN!!!, overdue bill reminders, spam calls, and calendar alerts reminding me to get my dog's anal glands expressed, I suspect I'd be a significantly more relaxed person too.
Privilege Behind the Disconnection
What interests me about Cowell's comments isn't whether he's happier without a smartphone because I have absolutely no trouble believing that he is. It's that we're increasingly hearing versions of this story from celebrities whose lives seem, at least on paper, far too busy to function without constant connectivity. But strangely, opting out of smartphones seems to have increasingly become a favourite pastime of the rich and famous.
Christopher Walken, for example, has never emailed, used social media or owned a mobile phone. Ed Sheeran hasn't had a smartphone since 2015, telling Jake Shane on his Therapuss podcast last year that prior to getting rid of his phone, 'I was just constantly in touch with a lot of people. I feel like with phones, everyone expects you to reply, and if you don't reply, it's rude. Sometimes you're just not in a headspace to reply; you're busy or doing whatever.'
Woody Harrelson says he dislikes being 'readily available to any human being at any time'. Elton John doesn't own a smartphone and has staff manage his social media presence. Tom Cruise famously claimed he had no phone, no email address, and no interest in either, telling The Daily Star in 2007: 'I have no iPhone, no mobile, no email address, no watch, no jewellery, no wallet. I simply want to be with my children and make movies.'
Which all sounds wonderful. It also raises an obvious question: who is doing all the stuff the rest of us use our phones for? Because if you squint a little into the fog of Cruise's statement, you'll quickly begin to make out the image of an exhausted assistant scurrying after the actor while carrying a bag that contains at least an iPhone and a wallet.
The emails still get answered. The meetings still get scheduled. The flights still get booked. The dinner reservations still get made. The contracts still get signed. The messages still get returned. Technology hasn't disappeared from these people's lives; they've simply reached a level of wealth and influence where much of it can be outsourced.
Wealth and the Ability to Disconnect
That's what makes this trend so fascinating. These celebrity digital detox stories are often presented as examples of wisdom or self-discipline, when they're actually examples of extreme privilege. Essentially, it's not exactly freedom from technology that's being celebrated, but freedom from having to personally manage the endless administrative burden that technology now carries.
When Sheeran talks about being exhausted by the expectation that he respond to everyone all the time, I completely sympathise. Most people probably do. The difference is that very few of us can solve the problem by deciding we simply won't carry a phone anymore.
For example, if an aspiring actor stopped checking emails, casting websites, and messages from agents for eight years, they wouldn't become Christopher Walken. They would become unemployed. The same principle extends well beyond acting: Even many schools communicate with parents of students through apps these days, while employers expect responses from employees on Slack, Teams, email, and WhatsApp at all times of day. Banks send authentication codes. Doctors want online bookings. Even ordering lunch can require downloading an app and agreeing to enough terms and conditions to sell a kidney.
That's not even mentioning the cost to the average person's social life if they were to totally disconnect. Try explaining to a group of friends in 2026 that you don't use WhatsApp and would prefer that all plans be communicated in writing.
The Changing Status Symbol
What makes all this especially striking is how completely the average rich person's relationship with technology has flipped. For decades, access to technology was itself a status symbol. The wealthy and powerful got mobile phones, computers, and internet access first. Being connected signalled power, wealth, and opportunity. Now we're arriving at a moment when the opposite increasingly seems true: The very wealthy can afford to disconnect, the rest of us cannot.
Meanwhile, a growing body of research continues to link excessive screen time with anxiety, distraction, poor sleep and declining wellbeing. Entire industries have emerged to help people spend less time on the devices that modern life simultaneously requires them to carry. The result is a strange contradiction: while we are more certain than ever that constant connectivity can be exhausting and even harmful, many of us have less control over it than ever before.
Cowell, meanwhile, has previously compared mobile phones to toasters, telling YouTuber Evan Carmichael in July 2025: 'I think they're boring. For me, I think it's like having a toaster with you all the time. It's like, it's a toaster, and a phone is just as boring. It's like, toast is nice and occasionally a telephone call is nice, but not all the bloody time.'
Silverman also revealed that she and Cowell's 12-year-old son Eric use a heavily restricted device with no social media access. That sounds lovely. It also sounds remarkably difficult to achieve unless you're either a literal child like Eric, whose life is managed by adults, or you're someone like Cowell, who has the option of returning to a state of childlike digital disconnection.
While it's hard to blame people like Cowell for making healthy choices for themselves, listening to celebrities explain how wonderful life is without a smartphone increasingly feels like hearing aristocrats recommend the benefits of country air to a Dickensian city orphan. The fresh air is probably wonderful. The challenge lies in acquiring the ancestral country estate.
Stories like Cowell's show just how dramatically things have changed. Once upon a time, privilege meant getting access to the latest technology before everyone else. Increasingly, it means having the freedom to ignore it.
