The Analog Way
We can all agree that digital tools have drastically improved our daily lives.
Our phones are the ultimate pocket Swiss knife, with thousands of upgrades to automate, and streamline little daily activities, like:
- Using a timer to make sure your food doesn’t burn in the oven
- Communicate instantly (or asynchronously) with people that are miles away from us
- Collect thoughts and memories using notes, or multi-media (photos, audio, video…)
- Learn from experts almost any field imaginable
It’s incredible how far we came.
Amidst all of the good things, so came the bad things.
The instant gratification of instant communication has made us anxious about not receiving answers as soon as we sent a text.
The reward system of social media has turned conversations into a war of who can dunk on other people the best (and receive the most likes and shares).
The feeling of being rewarded by user interfaces, and notifications has made us constantly check on our phones expecting the novelty, or hoping not to miss out on the latest news or cultural trends.
If I’d ask you what were the last 5 things you saw, read, or wrote on the internet, you might not even remember. I certainly struggle to do so more often than not.
One of the tools I’ve been using a lot was Logseq. A note-taking app that helps you to connect notes via bi-directional links, creating a network of concepts for yourself. Like our brain does.
But if you ask me how often I go back and read those notes, or whether I remember much of what was written, I couldn’t tell you.
The inconvenient path
In hopes to find a better way to interact with the world, I’ve been searching for analog alternatives to solutions that have been made convenient to all of us, starting with notes.
Using a Moleskine softcover to write down my tasks, thoughts, and ideas has helped me fixate them in my mind much better.
Maybe it’s because of the synesthesia of writing it down, or the lack of distractions when you’re holding a pen, and staring at a blank page. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you can only focus on the next phrase, or word, or letter as you’re writing them down.
It’s a little inconvenient, I admit. But in my opinion, we have been spoiled with convenience 24/7, and I do think my ADHD has been affected (to worst) because of it.
Another tool I replaced (not 100%) was my kindle.
Just the sensation of picking up a heavy book, or a short book, is enough for my mind to have a better sense of progress, and reward itself as I progress through a book.
Music has also played a part in this.
Whenever I used to open my music app, I would be bombarded by new releases, and algorithmic recommendations based on my latest activity.
That’s fine. I love finding out about new music. But I miss the feeling we had 10-20 years ago, when we would save up to buy an album from our favorite bands, and that’s all we could listen to until we had enough money to buy a new one.
I miss the feeling of enjoying full albums, some of which were made to be listened from start to finish. Most apps today make it hard to manage a music library, since they’re made for playlists of only “the best” songs.
Recently, while reading Norwegian Wood by Murakami, I discovered Beatles songs I haven’t heard before (and I was a huge fan of them ~15 years ago). This same book has also introduced me to some great jazz albums by Bill Evans, which have been my go-to.
To make it harder for myself to indulge in the temptation of constantly look for new music, I also bought an iPod Classic. It was a childhood dream to own one. I remember making drawings of the iPod when I was 12. Now I own one.
The great thing about iPods is you don’t have streaming services. So you have to pick and buy your albums. This inconvenience has become a type of convenience to me: by listening to albums from start to finish, I now have better time estimates.
It’s just a fun new way of interacting with music. Unfortunately, there’s no “Spotify Wrapped” to share by the end of the year. But I’m good about not having my taste in music become another data point for big tech to monetize on behind sketchy Privacy Policies and Terms of Service.
Downgrading the relationship with tech
Some things just remain the same, though. I have tried to live without social media for awhile. It’s hard.
Twitter is where I get my design news, and inspiration. It’s also the best means to connect with people that would otherwise be unreachable (via instagram or LinkedIn).
I did, however, change the way I use twitter. I no longer fall into the bait trap of outrage and engagement. Ok, ok, sometimes I do… but when that happens, I quickly check myself.
Instagram is where I get in touch with many people I otherwise wouldn’t be in touch with. It reminds me every once in awhile what people are up to, and it helps start conversations, or even lead to a social gathering.
What sucks is that Instagram was built to suck the life out of you, and sell it to advertisers. So I changed the way I use it: web only (even on mobile), and I mostly view stories + use DMs. I also view and share memes, but I really try not to do that too much.
I do miss sharing photos of moments with friends and family. Retro and BeReal have been great alternatives to that. But not many people use it, unfortunately.
Intentionally downgrading your personal usage of these digital tools can be a great path to a life of intentionality, focus, and overall happiness.
This concept works in general:
- Keeping your phone in the drawer, on “do not disturb” mode while working, or at social events
- Turning off all notifications all the time
- Deleting apps (use the web version if it exists)
- Replacing apps with simpler, more focused versions
It may not necessarily need to happiness, although it does remove a lot of the daily stress and anxiety.
Offline is a luxury
The trend in tech has been towards more and more surveillance, dark patters of data management, and algorithms that, either intentionally or not, are always trying to sell you the newest, shiniest smarter thing.
You have become a cog in their machine.
Being offline is the only way out of this hellish loop.
It’s time to break out of it.