Analog as Epilogue is a series of posts dedicated to exploring what an analog life could look like again. I want the epilogue of my life to be analog, and I want to live that from now til my dying day. Join me as explore a way of life that’s simpler and more enjoyable, one in which we live a little like our ancestors and propose this life as an alternative for the future.
It’s rather difficult in our day and age to be intentional about how we use our captivating technologies. I liken it to a knife’s edge. For thousands of years, we’ve had the “technology” of the blade. This comes with the responsibility for its proper and improper uses with skill, such as cutting bread and not our hand.
Electric, digital, and screen-filled technology is rather similar to a knife, but still rather new for us. Instead of thousands of years of experience as humans with this tech, we have about 20 years.
This is why using a smartphone is like using a knife. It can cut for good or ill, requiring skill and proper use. Before I stretch this analogy too far (and yes, most analogies fail at some stage), I’m not advocating for some sort of mastery of smartphone use to make the most out of this technology that has the calculating power to bring us to the moon and back. Rather, I’m advocating for a return to how we ought to use our hands.
This plays an important role in front of friends, family, and especially our own children. I’m incredibly aware of how every little action in word is seen, on display, being taken in and observed by my own children.
There have been countless times when my little ones catch me on my phone and encourage me to put it away. In the words of the wisest five year old I currently know, “Phones distract us from the most important thing: each other.”
“But wait,” you say, “there’s a mountain of tasks, to do lists, messages to respond to!” and yet, these all pale in comparison to the importance of being present to one’s own child, to other children who look up to us, and the communities around us. I think most folks agree on this, but then why do we unconsciously fall into bad habits of phone usage at home?
These precious moments of parenting young children quickly pass and before we know it, we will look back and wonder where the time went. I don’t want to be an empty nester one day, looking back with the regret that I took more time to do this or that seemingly important task before me instead of being attentive to the human being before us.
This is all well and good, but this reality played out story wise when I took my children to the playground. Thankfully, we are pretty blessed with an abundance of public playgrounds, and I’m trying to make a concerted effort to make my tax dollars work more for me by visiting them more.
In this particular moment, I was trying to make the most out of fading daylight as we wandered the park, exploring playgrounds at sunset. I was trying to be very intentional and kept my phone in my pocket. It was freeing to be able to take memories with my mind’s eye and sit with my thoughts, gazing at the children as they played and climbed, so proud of their different movements and little victories of conquering the ladders.
What was shocking to me was what I saw when the sun began to set and street lamps turned on. The parents of other children were rather quiet, silent almost. When I gazed at them, there was a literal sea of LED blue illuminating the faces of 10 different parents.
I doubt they could even tell you where their kids were if you asked them. Absorbed in their phones digital palantir, they were totally distracted. It felt reckless and irresponsible; even when I’m quick to advocate for children to be a bit more free-range.
I had to do a double take and considered taking a photograph to document the moment myself, but thought better of it to soak in the moment, thinking more deeply about what was happening before me. These poor children were playing at the park and their parents weren’t paying attention. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a similar experience so their home lives. Do these parents just sit on the couch with the TV on as children do whatever they want? What kind of example is set by these parents who are more attached to their phones than their kids?
Don’t get me wrong, I understand as much as the next person how much there is to do and how little time there is to do it in. Sometimes, you do need to take an urgent phone call or check out something pressing. I also understand that sometimes you need a mental break after a day of working, handling childcare, chores around the home, etc. Sometimes you just want to zone out for a minute.
But hyper smartphone use like this is abnormal. Really abnormal. And I’m just as guilty as the next person, but that’s all the more reason to be intentional about it.
Is it not more restorative and refreshing to simply sit on a bench and watch the squirrels squirrel away their nuts and climb trees, watching children swing from branch to branch going down slides and exploring the playground nooks and crannies.
Is it not more restful to put the phone and away and be present to the world around us?
These parents obviously recognized the good of being outside at the park, but they cut the benefits short by bringing the indoors with them outside.
Whatever happened to parents sitting on a park benches while the children played on the playground and - you know - strike up a conversation? Are our smartphones so good at fulfilling promises of connection that we’re willing to emotionally block the person next to us? And why is it that we wonder about the breakdown of American culture and society when we can’t even say hi to a stranger; which would open the doors for friendship (or a mere acquaintance) and broaden our echo chambered horizons.
Chances are, other parents in the park have way more in common with other than not. Same state, city, neighborhood, choice of playground, similar ages of kids, parenting, etc. More topics for conversation than one can count on a hand. I myself need to muster the courage to break through and say hello.
This particular moment hit home for me too because I had recently finished the Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt. While his book focuses on the alarms of social media use for children and teens, it didn’t touch much on the adult usage of these same platforms. But isn’t it precisely in the adult usage that will be of most influence for the children? How can we expect children to follow an example of excessive phone usage and not be impacted?
But then I learned this; I can’t control what others do. All I can do is be present to my own children and be intentional in my own little way. Perhaps other parents will wake up from their phone induced stupor and realize the wasted years. Perhaps more of us will actively reflect on our phone’s “screen time” review each week. Perhaps we’ll learn the lesson the hard way. But at least we can begin to live now in a more genuine way by enabling the proper use of one’s pockets.
For in the proper use of one’s pockets, perhaps we can turn our attention and our hands to be present to the most important thing; each other.
I’ve also observed this phenomenon and of course been guilty, myself. Agree - shove that thing back in the pocket and play with your kids. Pretty sure in our dying moments no one will say “gee I sure wish I spent more time on my phone.”