It’s been seven weeks since The Digital Breakup began.
First, a quick summary of some notable occurrences:
- There hasn’t been one emergency that needed me. My delusions of self-importance have been clarified.
- I still pick up the phone to “check it”. What am I checking it for? The apps I would normally check are gone, but seven weeks later I continue to reach for it, then realize there’s nothing to check. If that’s not an engrained habit, I don’t know what is. I’m still like a mouse pushing a button looking for the reward.
- I’m obsessed with knowing stuff I don’t need to know. The number of times I’ve reached for the phone to assuage my curiosity or answer a dumb question in my brain while I’m in the middle of doing something else is alarming. My attention is more divided than I ever realized.
- I’ve fallen way behind. Remember how I said I was going to carry a book and read it instead of checking my phone? I didn’t do that. I haven’t read more. In fact, I’ve probably read less. Since deciding to ditch the phone more often, I’ve fallen way behind on podcast listening and digital reading.
- I’ve noticed so many things I’ve been missing. While falling behind on podcasts, I’ve noticed how pretty the fall leaves are on my morning run. I’ve noticed how cute my dog’s face is when she runs uphill and starts to get really tired. I’ve talked to more people in my neighborhood. Turns out that when you’re looking up and not down, people notice and smile and sometimes an actual conversation ensues.
The two biggest lessons so far have come from both experience and further research on how our digital connections are shaping our social lives.
Reclaiming Single-tasking and Silence
I am a recovering efficiency junkie. I’ve always thought that the more I could cross of my list in the shortest amount of time, the better. Making dinner while listening to an audiobook while thinking about a new design idea for my job: check, check, check.
I’m learning that just because I can accomplish a bunch of stuff at once (and technology makes it easy) doesn’t mean I should. I have to be the boss of my technology or it will become the master. This has meant re-learning how to single-task. Cooking dinner and doing nothing else. Running in silence and letting the mind wander. Yes, I am “keeping up” with less, but I’m finding there is freedom in fostering selective ignorance. I’m also learning the value in silence, solitude, and boredom.
Which leads us to the most important lesson so far.
Reclaiming Conversation and Our Humanity
Six weeks ago, I mentioned the phone-on-the-table phenomenon and the related fear that we are slowly losing some of our compassion and connection because we’re not practicing. In her book Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age, which was recently adapted in this New York Times article, Sherry Turkle confirms this hunch.
She writes, “Studies of conversation both in the laboratory and in natural settings show that when two people are talking, the mere presence of a phone on a table between them or in the periphery of their vision changes both what they talk about and the degree of connection they feel. People keep the conversation on topics where they won’t mind being interrupted. They don’t feel as invested in each other. Even a silent phone disconnects us.”
She highlights recent research that calls out what might be the scariest statistic so far, “a 40 percent decline in empathy among college students, with most of the decline taking place after 2000.”
Wait just a second. What does all of this have to do with empathy? As it turns out, everything.
Though we may argue the presence of our devices isn’t hindering our conversations, we have to admit they are interruptive, and what we miss when our conversations are interrupted are open-ended and spontaneous discussions – the kind we can only have when we’re not bracing for the next interruption. Open-ended conversation is where we learn how to know someone else, where we learn empathy. Empathy makes us more human. It also fosters intimacy and vulnerability. Without uninterrupted conversation, we lower our capacity for some basic human ingredients. We also lessen our opportunities to learn who we are.
A few months ago I noted the power of storytelling and how we learn about ourselves in the stories we tell each other. But I can only see myself in your story if I actually hear your story.
The Empathy-Solitude Connection
Circling back to the importance of reclaiming silence, Turkle points out how our capacity for empathy and solitude are linked. Solitude (or silence or boredom) is where we find ourselves, where we develop ideas that give us something to offer.
Solitude gives us the mojo to be present for the people in our lives. If we turn these opportunities into frantic searches for connection, we won’t hear ourselves, and it’s in hearing ourselves that we prepare to hear the rest of the world.
As Turkle writes, “Our phones are not accessories, but psychologically potent devices that change not just what we do but who we are.”
That’s reason enough for me to keep the breakup going.
One more thing before you go…
An exciting news alert! Early membership to A Simple Year is now open.
I am thrilled and humbled to be joining Courtney Carver, Leo Babauta, Jules Clancy, Cait Flanders, Brooke McAlary, Rachel Macy Stafford, Tammy Strobel, and Colin Wright as we tackle a range of topics to help you slow down and simplify in 2016.
This year-long membership program will provide written content, live webinars, homework and other resources on many of my favorite topics: digital, cooking, money, busyness, relationships, and more. Check out the site for all the details and a special rate through November 20.