I guess at some point I had to write this all up. So here we go.
One day I woke up and was a radical: I don't use a smartphone, I don't use Amazon, Apple, or Facebook in any of its variants. And I was able to avoid Google more or less completely, until my workplace started using their email services. None of these decisions felt radical at the time. Mostly, they were not even real decisions. There was no particular point when I said to myself: "I am not using Facebook ever", or solemnly threw my iPhone from a bridge. I don't delight in provocation, or despise something just because everyone else does it. I somehow grew into it, gradually, just going my way, while the world around me went a different way. It was like everyone else had become radical. Am I just nostalgic, unwilling to embrace change? Well, let's find out. Let's look back and see how it all came about.
I really loved computers in the 80s (when using them meant programming them). I actually still do like them. And I was always fascinated with networking them. As a teenager I even dreamt of wiring our house with little lights, switches and primitive sensors controlled from my room, which was as far as I got to conceiving of a "smart home" (my parents did not exactly share that enthusiasm). I was among the early adopters of laptops, and of broadband, and dabbled my way into writing html and css because the possibilities of the www were completely captivating. But still none of this proves that I am not just a nostalgic, maybe it even speaks in favour of it: It looks like I still prefer using computers the way I did 20 years ago (Who seriously writes html by hand these days?). But it is also possible that there is some truth in my inclinations, which goes beyond just wanting to stick to old habits.
So when did my split with the mainstream of digitalised life happen? It must have been in the mid 2000s. The establishment of the first social networks - myspace, studiVZ, then both crushed by Facebook. I had little use for them. I thought they were essentially for people who cannot code their own webpages or don't know how to access IRC or the usenet - remember that one? Social networks with fixed templates for interaction simply didn't fascinate me, nor did I have a need to use them. At the time they were just one of many products I came across and didn’t choose to use.
I admit, Facebook's practices of conquering that market did put me off, too. That nasty trick of getting into people's contact list and then sending out messages as if the user had personally written them. Over the years I had already grown to dislike Microsoft for their brutal and calculated illegal practices, and any business practice that focused on lock-in effects rather than on the quality of the product. I disliked proprietary formats and interfaces as basically a form of ransomware: They would effectively encrypt your data and hand the key to a single company that could fold tomorrow, or change their policy without you being able to leave. Plus they would be able to record everything you are doing. My computer was basically the second half of my brain. I didn’t want anyone to run my brain for me. This is how I got into Free Software and open standards.
And then came along smartphones. A powerful computer that fits into my pocket — this was actually pretty attractive. But it would never be controlled by me, but by an entity that would want to make money off me. I could not even access the file system or process list, or control the network configuration. This felt way too personal, too close to my skin. It felt as personal as when now youtube or medium attempt to shape my user experience in the image they have of me (based on the false assumption that I enjoy things that are similar to things that I have enjoyed before). The point is: I feel watched. I feel every tiny movement I make has repercussions in my (electronic) environment. And this makes me intensely nervous, self-conscious, and makes me feel exposed. I have never felt at home on a device, let alone being fascinated by it, if I was not the one controlling it, especially: controlling which data goes in and out. Vulnerable narcissism or just general oversensitivity?
The strange thing is that this is not how anyone else seems to feel. Is it because I understand how technology works? But also all of my programmer friends just shrug at these thoughts. Some share my sentiments, in a leisurely inconsequential fashion. None share my digital life-style. I guess they need to use phones more than I do. They have become such a basis for everyday life, that whatever is wrong with them, the feeling prevails that one cannot seriously expect anyone to change their use of them. Which is in turn why they have become so pervasive: There are not as many unique uses for smartphones as people think there are — I know that from experience. And living through your phone, if you look at the whole deal, is not nearly as efficient and making life easier as many feel it does, focusing on the magic of one app or another. It's a bit like digital assistants, where the case is even more extreme: The way they improve life is actually quite minimal compared to the effort it takes to make and run them. And where it is not, it is not just because they are the better tool, but because of a strange consensus that we are now going to do everything through them, and should switch off the alternative ways of reaching the same goal. Yes, mobile computing is often useful, and sometimes even amazing. But still a little less so than most people take as given.
At least for me there was really never much use in smartphones. There never was a killer app. None of my desires could only be fulfilled though them that would otherwise be out of reach. Yes, having a portable phone, dumb or smart, is life-changing, especially as a parent or in a highly dynamic job. But we used to pity and not envy doctors who had to wear pagers 24/7. I have no particular desire to always be online. I am online way too much already, on a daily basis. I really don't need to extend this to those 3 minutes at the bakery. Especially since smartphones are awkward to use. Tiny screen, no real keyboard, and constantly in the need of charging. The thought of another device to carry on my travels, needing maintenance, being prone to losing or breaking, and being actually quite expensive, felt never particularly desirable.
And then I saw how smartphones changed people, and whole societies. The distraction. The addiction. The incessant self-reflection and performing. The advertising. The commodification and self-commodification. It is not too long ago, that people found it weird to consider advertisements to be useful information. It is not too long ago that one would have interesting conversations on trains or airplanes. This special, little feeling of intimacy that sprung from being thrown into a situation together for a couple of hours. But now your physical neighbor is not the person easiest to communicate with anymore.
Note that none of this does make me feel vindicated, zealous or morally superior. I never tried to talk anyone out of their smartphone. It did not increase my desire for a smartphone, either.
I guess I get the maps feature. This is essentially useful for when you are not at your computer. But it’s alone not a killer feature for me, nor is it why people ever got their phones in the first place (Though it’s one of their favourite justifications. That’s basic psychology). I am not proud of it, but I can still find my way around with a mixture of screenshots, brains, talking to passers-by and the occasional real map. Yes, it’s just a little bit more awkward.
Other apps? Oh yes, i see that, especially for many specialised situations and jobs, and for games in all forms. But which ones do actually make ordinary life better? I am lucky enough that most of my friends do not primarily socialise through Twitter or Whatsapp. And I am through with gaming. Yes, there will be that fateful moment when I literally will not be able to go through a door or access my money without a phone. For a while it was also a little bit of a game, a proof of concept, to go without a smartphone and see how long I can get away with that. I thought the moment had come last year, but eventually I got a reprieve. But when I finally will hit the wall, I will have to get a smartphone reluctantly — not happily or as the normal course of events. I will not accept this as the necessary nature of our times, but an unconscious choice people made. Or I finally will have to become a real, vocal radical, build a narrative, and stand my ground.
But for doing that I need this reflection of where my motives really come from. I hope I have not lost my sense of distinguishing and looking at each new situation for itself, rather than following a generalistic and blind attitude of conservative (or progressive) behaviour. I like blogs, I dislike service-based digital infrastructure (because I don't trust that providers will not abuse the power that controlling an infrastructure provides). I like email and I distrust centralised messaging apps. I like the idea of Solid pods, and dread the spread of Libra, and I’d love to learn using current programming frameworks. So I think I can say I do like specific new technologies (I have actually bought a shedload of cutting-edge technology in a music store). That I adopt fewer and fewer of them is because more and more of them run on specific technologies that I don't endorse, and this means: I shun them for specific reasons, not out of a general hatred of technology. Tech and I can still get back together.
Still it's just weird that I am the only one having gone that way. I am used to being in the minority. But the only one? Of course my isolation is the very result of my abstinence. I guess I should be able to find a Facebook group of like-minded people.
