As if a fate worse than death, during the ‘digitalSabbath’, of days upon days, and months upon months, life was simplychallenging. As the authorities completely pulled the plug on telephone andmobile services, minds that had over the years developed certain expectationsabout distractions and entertainments were suddenly disrupted. The first fewdays of digital disruption were surprisingly hard and dehumanizing. It wasdifficult to fight the urges to check technologies you’re not allowed to check.People reached compulsively to pull out their phones to discover/remember thatthe once-roaring gadgets were dead and gone. Addictive habits were revealed ina striking clarity—-moments of waiting in line, moments between activities,moments of boredom, moments people ached to check in on the favourite people,moments people wanted an escape from, moments people just wanted to ‘looksomething up’, moments people just needed some diversion from.
As time wore on, the detox symptoms woreoff. People began to forget about their phones. Nevertheless, at the slighthint of boredom, some surreptitiously glanced at apps like photo/video albums,camera, clock and time and games. As if a Godsend opportunity to spark apermanent transformation of one’s digital life—-one in which technologyserves only a supporting role for more meaningful life—- during the’declutter’, people discovered what was important and what they enjoyed outsidethe world of the always-on shiny digital. They’re surprised to learn thedegree to which their digital lives had become cluttered with reflexivebehaviors and compulsive tics. Those that successfully cultivatedhigh-quality alternative analog activities (reading books, painting, gardening,visiting relatives/friends, playing outdoor games etc.), eased distraction thatthe intrusive technology/digital tools enforced.
Phones have become woven into a fraughtsense of obligation in friendship. Being a friend means, being on call,tethered to your phone, ready to be attentive, online. During the ‘digitalSabbath’, face-to-face conversation came to be the most human-and humanizing.Fully present to one another we learn to listen. It’s where we develop thecapacity for empathy. It’s where we experience the joy of being heard/of beingunderstood. That Facebook Messenger/WhatsApp are the easiest way to keepup with friends is true but the lightweight contact with friends during the’digital Sabbath’ helped clarify which of these friendships were real in thefirst place. The value generated by a Facebook comment/Instagram ‘like’,although real, is minor compared to the value generated by an analogconversation or shared-real world activity. As Facebook was barred duringthe digital gag, the communities evaporated and failed to regroup and fightback. Physical communities with a depth that virtual communities can’t match,if I lie sick in Kashmir my online friend in Mumbai can’t bring me a cup oftea. Imagine how surreal it can feel to invest your newfound time andattention in your family, far less rushed and distracted, with no ear-buds inears or skipping buttons to tap, when antsy.
The rise of cell phone as a vital appendageis supported by the explanations. But then people born before mid-eighties havestrong memories of life without cell phones. They’d use payphones; sometimesthe particular persons were there or else they’d leave messages and hoped theygot it. Imagine waiting at the phone-booth in the queue of aspirants waiting touse the phone call. Before I finish with my call the person in line behind meslips into the phone booth and I’m still not finished with my call. There was atime and place when such things happened. No phone, no telex, no cell phone, nointernet, no nothing. Getting lost in a new city wasn’t a big deal. Parentswere comfortable with the idea that when they’re out the babysitter had no easyway to reach them in the case of an emergency. It won’t be a false senseof nostalgia for the pre-cell phone times.
In 90% of our daily life, mobile phonedoesn’t matter (makes things only slightly more convenient). They’re useful butit’s hyperbolic to believe its ubiquitous presence is vital. Life without cellphone is occasionally annoying but it’s much less debilitating as weexperienced it during the digital gag. ‘It didn’t hurt us’. Maybe it slightlyincreased complexity of talking with our family, which we did over Skype;annoyances like one was stuck in the traffic, running late for meeting, orsending an email but the experience was less drastic than we feared. Who knowsbetter than us that the urgency we feel to always have a phone with us isexaggerated? To live permanently without digital devices would be needlesslyannoying, but to regularly spend hours on the shiny gizmos is nothing butaddictive. Imagine, staring into LED-powered smartphones each night, sometimesfor hours together, often with these devices just feet or even inches away fromour retinas, and that too minutes before bedtime, leading to an impact onmelatonin release and thus ability to time onset of sleep.
As a matter of fact humans have bodies. Technologyhas been distracting us from our bodies. We’ve been losing our ability to payattention to what we smell and taste. As we remain absorbed in our smartphones,we’re more interested in what’s happening in the cyberspace than what’shappening down the street. It’s easier than ever to talk people abroad butharder to talk to our children/spouses over breakfast because they’reconstantly glued to their smartphones. Unlike our forager ancestors who werealways alert and attentive in cherry-picking their foods we do wandersupermarket aisles while texting messages and might end up eating our foods inhaste in front of screen, checking emails/texting WhatsApp while hardly payingattention to the actual taste. As the days of ‘gag’ are over and people race backto Facebook, to WhatsApp, to their old blogs, they may look up to think whythey’re doing it. The months-long digital declutter may soon help us realizethat these technologies weren’t actually adding much to our life.