Digital detox: A beginner’s guide to divorcing your phone

Smartphones have become essential in our lives, but how easy is a digital detox? MAS Member Elisabeth Easther takes a 3-week break from checking notifications and scrolling social media to find out. 

The first iPhone was sold in 2007, but I was a late bloomer and didn’t get my first until 2012. “Why would anyone want to take pictures with a telephone?” I asked the early adopters.  

Fast forward 13 years, and I’m rarely more than a few feet from my smartphone. I pick it up countless times a day to check the time, the weather, my steps. I look at Facebook to see if a neighbour has too many limes, or their doorbell cam filmed an intruder. Instagram pulls me in: what are people I barely know doing now? There are news apps, maps, book sites, and rewards cards for fuel, groceries and flights.  

I also have email, 4 messaging apps, banking, a ukulele tuner and 2 audio book providers. The entire world is in my palm, and while I’m not a gamer, I do like Wordle. I can take pictures, make notes and record voice memos. I even make phone calls.  

My phone is an integral part of my life. Being separated from it feels weird. 

Full disclosure, when I talk on the phone, I occasionally put it on speaker so I can browse. And I sometimes watch TV and scroll, which is called ‘second screening’, although I draw the line at using my phone in cinemas or theatres. So wrong. 

I estimate, completely unscientifically, that I benefit from about 7% of the things I see online, yet looking has become pathological, and I have reasonable self-control. And I especially despair when I see young people hunched over their phones, faces glued to screens. Not to mention parents with strollers, dog walkers, commuters waiting for the bus. We’re all being sucked in.  

Keen to understand my attachment, I made an effort to disengage. Not exactly cold turkey, just less. I decided on 3 weeks, which is apparently how long it takes to make or break a habit. How addicted was I?  

Days 1 to 3 

No news, no socials, no scrolling. After an entire waking day, I felt a lack, although I was allowed to search for stories. I also did Wordle. I had my winning streak to consider, and these are my rules. But without the constant refresh, which is ironically enervating, I felt empty.  

I also allowed myself to check the weather, so whenever I picked up my phone out of habit, I’d navigate to MetService and let my thumb hover before I reminded myself, “No scrolling!” The weather app became my nicotine patch; the smallest hit to get me through the cravings. But the urges were powerful, regular and distracting. 

Days 4 to 7 

Still weaning, I tidied my photo gallery of duplicates. I went through all my texts back to 2020 and binned more than half of them. Some senders were dead, so I could not delete their messages. My WhatsApp went back to 2017; I deleted loads of those too, and hundreds of numbers from my address book. My head and eyes felt tight after one such session, because I’d replaced one compulsion with another. 

At the end of the first week, screen time was down from 3 and a half hours per day to 2 hours and 4 minutes. I’d gone from 97 pick-ups to 47, but I was still using. Please also note this tech break does not include laptop hours, which are significant as I work at a computer. Baby steps.  

Week 2  

This week there would be no unnecessary googling. No Goodreads, no queries about films, and no weather unless I hoped to do laundry. As replacement therapy, I was allowed 2 RNZ news bulletins per day; they are the opposite of clickbait. The pull to scroll had not lessened, and I failed to adhere strictly to my rules. 

I continued to reflexively open browsers then gape at the empty page. Even after 10 days of self-imposed restriction, the pull was strong and I’d linger at open windows. Like I was missing something but I didn’t know what. I was genuinely upset when I heard Robert Redford had died a good week after the fact.  

LinkedIn, Facebook and Instagram started sending emails. They asked if I knew what my friends were saying with little teasers of their posts. Naughty tech giants trying to lure me back.  

Week 3 

The itch still wanted to be scratched. I baked more. I gardened. When I took a break, I’d stretch or read or walk. This week was easier. I wasn’t missing news or socials, and I felt much more at peace. I forgot to listen to the news.  

`But what would I do moving forward? Would I be like the people who finish Dry July with an almighty bender? And some of what we see online is valuable. So how do I avail myself of the good stuff, the important stuff, and bypass all the rubbish? From funny cat videos to material that induces panic attacks, how can I use the internet, rather than have it use me? 

As for my conclusions at the end of this informal experiment? At the start, I absolutely craved the instant gratification. But when those urges faded, I felt cleaner and sharper, and the end of the world felt further away. I still have more questions than answers, but I will definitely continue to rethink the role tech plays in my life.  

Of course I can’t just throw my phone in the compost – for one thing, it’d never break down – but I can set parameters. And the fact that my trying to disengage was so hard and weird makes me all the more determined to continue to investigate and reframe my relationship with the digital world.

6 tips for digital boundaries 

1. Turn off unnecessary notifications. 
2. Make phone-free times and stick to them. 
3. Set specific limits and put your device on flight mode, silent or out of reach. 
4. Delete some of your more compelling apps. 
5. Don’t scroll during meals. 
6. Use the saved time in a positive way. Be active, socialise, meditate, volunteer, play music, write a novel. 

Check out more ways to have a healthy relationship with your phone, and if you love your phone as much as the rest of us, it's a good idea to get contents insurance. That way, if it gets damaged, you won't be put out for too long. Check out MAS Contents Insurance for more information.