Polly Vernon
LAST WEEK, I read a book, then had an epiphany. The book was Catherine Price’s
brilliant How To Break Up With Your
Phone. The epiphany was: my iphone has taken over my life, and that’s not cool. I sleep with it – charging and glowing, glowing and charging – by my pillow. I reach for it first thing, then over and over again through my day, compulsively and in moments of stress or quiet; whether I’m struggling to write a sentence, or bored by a sandwich. I don’t do anything without first asking it if I should be doing something else; I don’t go anywhere without first asking it how I get there, and how long it’ll take me ( in minutes and steps). At some point, my iphone has become a combination of needy child, controlling partner and overindulgent nanny to me. I know it has for you, too, which is why we’re at Peak App (see 10 Hot, page 29 for further intel).
‘Right!’ I declared. ‘Enough of that! I’m going to reconfigure my relationship with my phone!’ As I said those very words, as I set about planning a brave, new, phone-lite lifestyle (edited highlights: no Google Maps, less Instagram, occasional phone-free weekenders), I was struck by the sense that what I might in fact be doing was embracing The Newest Way To Be A Dick.
If modern life has given us anything, it is a fast changing succession of opportunities for dickishness. They come in the form of lifestyle trends, which wash into our worlds on a hashtag and a prayer, and suddenly anyone who’s anyone is being really annoying about how they’re Doing Them (really hard, and really well). How they’re totally Vegan-uary right now? Or, Mindful? Or into Hygge, or baking or The Life-changing Magic Of Tidying or chewing each bite 20 times because that leads to optimal digestive readiness and our guts are our secondary brains, hadn’t you heard? We leverage each trend to make ourselves appear more interesting, healthy, or cool, or to compete with anyone else who’s doing them, too, because, we were doing them first, actually, and anyway: for how long did you meditate this morning? Only 10 minutes, you say?
I can see how ‘I’m reconfiguring my relationship with my phone’ has New Way To Be A Dick potential. I can imagine competitiveness over who spent less time on their phone yesterday, according to tracking app Moment. Sneering judginess, when one friend retrieves her phone from her bag during brunch – but the other does not. Our impulse to dickery is strong. So very strong. Given which: remember I was the first person you knew who was on to this whole phone thing, yeah? Cool beans.