My relationship with my phone is something of a toxic one. Like so many people, it’s all but glued to my hand and I am embarrassed by my weekly screen time report. I go through waves of paring usage back but, ultimately, I am guilty of an astonishing number of hours scrolling mindlessly.
I justify the time spent on my phone as being essential for work. But, in reality, my most-used app is Instagram; Slack comes in as my sixth most-used, after WhatsApp, Spotify, Chrome and Maps. My boss is going to read this, so please know that I’m 100 per cent Whatsapping for work and The National and Outlook apps are around seventh or eighth on the chart. Let’s not quibble about the details.
I was alarmed when, in fact-checking the last paragraph, I saw that my screen time was down 22 per cent this week. My alarm wasn’t at my reduced usage, but the fact that my automatic response was something akin to a childlike celebration as if I had pleased a parent and I deserved a reward of sorts, which made me think: "Why am I at the mercy of this six-inch screen?"
But I am not here to speak about apps.
Last month, I went on a once-in-a-lifetime diving trip to Raja Ampat in Indonesia. It was a week of sailing around small, broadly uninhabited, islands, spending four hours a day 20 meters underwater and napping in between. It was pure bliss, which was only enhanced by the fact that I had no phone service for five of the seven days of sailing.
As a result, it meant I had five days with no ability to check WhatsApp and Instagram or to fact-check a conversation on Google. And I certainly had no need for Google Maps, other than to pin my diving locations. It also meant I had to let go of Slack and Outlook with no way of checking in.
Well, if I am being entirely honest, there was a digital get-out-of-jail-free card. I could have paid an astronomical amount for 5GB of WiFi on board, but at the rate I go scrolling, it would have lasted minutes and severely undermined my accidental digital detox. Still, I considered it a safety blanket as I dipped my toe into service-free waters.

On my five phone-free days, I felt incredible and, I’ll be honest, smug. I had evolved as a person, better than everyone else at the mercy of the aforementioned six-inch screen. I no longer needed my phone to be within a metre of my hand at every given moment. Instead, it served as little more than an overpriced camera. And Instagram? What of it, I barely gave it a second thought. Was I a bit annoyed that I couldn’t share photos of idyllic Indonesian sunsets and cute photos of myself and a turtle? Of course, I am only human. Except, I was now the evolved human, who didn’t rely on social media for instant gratification.
I also read, boy did I read. Yes, it was on a Kindle, so it was still a screen in my hand, but no blue light – we all know that's all that counts for digital detox. I devoured nine books in the time I was away. I am honestly not sure how I fit that much reading in around diving, napping, eating and sleeping. But I did, and it’s a humbling demonstration of what I can get done when I have a week off and I am not on my phone.
So, here I am now, three weeks after returning home. I came back with grand plans: every day when I get back from work, my phone is going in a drawer; I am logging out of Instagram long term; and moving my phone to the other side of the room, to eliminate any late-night scrolling temptation. The Kindle would be my only digital vice.
How has it worked out? Abysmally. I am playing hot and cold on Instagram. That being said, it’s easier to turn your back on the app when the algorithm is delivering little more than footage of the world literally burning. My phone has neither moved across the room nor been tucked away for the evening when I clock off work. I have read a bit, but not quite keeping up with any book-a-week aspirations I had.
Much like the kind of people who do not have a television as a symbol of sophistication and taste, I long to be someone who just doesn’t need a smartphone. But I have to accept that it’s not me right now. Checking out from the world was wonderful, and felt like a true luxury. Despite a brief moment of feeling haughtily changed by the week, ultimately, I am the exact same phone-reliant human I was when I set off for the trip… just doing 22 per cent better than I was before, for this week at least.
So, if you see me post some #latergram photos from Indonesia, please don’t comment on my digital weakness. Just enjoy the sunset.