Introduction
Earlier this year, I realised I’d been struggling with my phone in ways I couldn’t ignore anymore. I’d tried to use it less, tried to set boundaries, tried to be disciplined. None of it worked for long. So I decided to remove the problem entirely and switched to a cheap dumbphone for a month. This is what led me to that decision, and what happened next.
History of My Phone Addiction
My origin story begins in my first year of high school with a hand-me-down
HTC Touch Diamond. Not long after, I got my hands on an iPhone 3G, and that’s when things really clicked.
That’s where my love for smartphones—and eventually app development—started. I built my first “app,” which is a generous word. It was really just an HTML page I made with
jQTouch to look like an iPhoneOS app, containing my school timetable. I somehow managed to serve it on my phone. I genuinely have no memory of how I hosted it. Probably my dad’s doing. Thanks, Dad.
My friends were quick to tell me I was addicted to my phone. One by one, as smartphones became ubiquitous, I saw them fall victim too. Around my fourth or fifth year of high school, WhatsApp group chats exploded. My attention basically got sucked into a black hole of memes, drama, and very important teenage updates. I flunked school that year, and looking back, it was a pretty pivotal moment.
Over the years, my relationship with smartphones stayed complicated. I loved exploring new apps. If there was a new social media platform, I was usually the first of my friends to be on it. But as I got older, it became problematic. My phone use bothered my girlfriend (now wife). I would usually respond that it could be a lot worse…
One holiday, I read
Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport on the beach, which really opened my eyes to how my phone affected me. That’s when I tried to curb my phone use.
I tried all the tricks—deleted social media apps, nuked notifications, set my phone to greyscale like a sad indie film. It worked… until it didn’t.
I always slipped back.
The Nokia Experiment
I used to blame this on a lack of self-control. But honestly, that’s nonsense. You wouldn’t tell a drug addict to “just have some self-control.”
I’d been floating the idea of trying a dumbphone before—not a Light Phone with “mindful design” and an
$700 price tag, but an actual dumbphone. One that could call, text, and maybe play Snake.
But there were reasons I didn’t follow through. My wife thought it was a hassle and wasn’t thrilled about adjusting her habits to accommodate my crazy experiment. Also, WhatsApp is a pretty essential communication tool here in the Netherlands. At the time, there wasn’t a way to receive messages without the app running.
And, most importantly: I literally get paid to build apps for smartphones.
So what changed? Work did. Due to a large project being delayed, I wasn’t going to be on a mobile project for the rest of the year. Suddenly, I had space to experiment without being wildly irresponsible.
I bit the bullet and bought a
Nokia 105 on Amazon. Thanks to leftover credit, it cost me about €10. I got a prepaid SIM and forwarded my real number to it.
The first few days were weird. I’d reach for the phone, unlock it, realize it did nothing, and put it away. I played Snake sometimes, but even Snake couldn’t scratch the itch.
But then I also almost immediately felt that things were changing.
I was more present, which my wife really appreciated. I started talking to my colleagues more—actual conversations! I had only recently switched jobs and had been hiding in my screen during lunch. Without my smartphone, I rediscovered basic social skills. Lovely.
I enjoyed reading again. Movies. Music. I put music on a thumb drive to listen in the car because I couldn’t connect via Bluetooth. It made me rediscover how nice it is to listen to an album as a whole, and the craft that goes into them.
Texting on a T9 keypad is hell, so I preferred calling. I used WhatsApp Web on my Mac to stay up to date with group chats. Thankfully, WhatsApp
no longer requires your phone to be on for Web to work. It turned the whole dumbphone lifestyle from “impossible” to “actually doable.”
Navigation wasn’t as much of a challenge as I’d anticipated. I’d realize, “Huh, I actually know my way around the neighbourhood.” Sometimes I looked up general directions beforehand and relied on signage. For bigger trips we just used my wife’s phone for navigation.
Some things simply require apps—banking, public parking, two-factor authentication. Whatever tasks I could, I tried to delegate to my Mac or iPad.
But even with the annoyances, my time with the Nokia was nice. I didn’t actually want to go back yet.
The End of the Nokia Experiment
And then my €10 piece of plastic betrayed me.
I brought the Nokia on a weekend trip with my wife’s cousins. At the restaurant, we had to order food via a QR code. This gave me the opportunity to do a hilarious bit where I tried to scan a QR code with my Nokia. Ten out of ten. No notes.
Later, we went for drinks. I lived the dream: phone in my pocket, no distractions. The next morning, I turned on the display… and it was completely broken.
Nokias used to be indestructible.
But Nokia isn’t Nokia anymore. And honestly, what do you expect from something that costs less than a cocktail?
The phone was unusable. I could’ve bought another one, but I felt like I’d won. I’d beaten the addiction! I could just go back to my iPhone with a few rules and be fine.
Returning to the iPhone (and Turning It Into a Pseudo-Dumbphone)
So, back I went to my iPhone 15 Pro. I removed almost all my apps. Even the ones I used to pretend were “productive,” like
Letterboxd and
Reeder.
I disabled all notifications.
No exceptions.
And for a few days… it worked.
Then I started slipping. Not into Instagram reels, thankfully, but into micro-browsing. Looking things up. Falling into tiny Safari rabbit holes. It turns out my addiction isn’t to social media or news or gaming.
It’s to the smartphone itself.
I love the device. The feel of it. The interaction. The playing. I’d start customizing my lock screen. Updating contact photos. “Researching” the remaining apps I still had installed. It all felt very normal until you realize you’ve opened the IKEA app for the fifth time that day.
Judging by Screen Time, I did better—usually less than an hour a day. But the cracks were showing. My wife noticed. She even suggested I get another Nokia—even though she wasn't thrilled when I bought the first one.
So I knew I needed a better solution.
Enter the Apple Watch
The answer was something I was already using in conjunction with my Nokia experiment: an Apple Watch.
I already had a Series 9 Apple Watch with 4G, which means it can operate almost entirely without my phone. It supports calls, iMessage, and basic apps. It’s basically a modern-day iPod strapped to my arm—just annoying enough to prevent overuse, but functional enough to live with.
Paired with AirPods, I can listen to podcasts via
Overcast. I listen to music—either
Broadcasts for radio or Spotify. The NOS app gives me the latest four headlines. Nothing more.
I can get directions in a pinch with Apple Maps. Check items off our shared grocery list in Reminders. Check my calendar.
I started using Voice Memos a lot:
- To note little things instead of taking a photo (like remembering where I parked the car).
- To record meetings, which I then transcribe locally on my Mac with MacWhisper and send to Obsidian. I’m terrible at taking notes, so this feels like cheating in the best way.
My iPhone now stays turned off in my backpack. I only turn it on when necessary. Need navigation for a longer trip? Turn it on. Need to pay a Tikkie? Turn it on.
But most days, I don’t turn it on at all.
How I Deal With This as a Mobile Developer
If you’re a developer thinking, “Cool story, but I literally build apps, I can’t ditch my phone”… yeah, I get it. I still love my job. But here’s how I make it work:
- I use the iOS Simulator a lot more. M-series Macs have also made using the Android Emulator bearable.
- If I absolutely need a device, I turn the iPhone on, test, and put it away. No installing random apps “for inspiration.”
- And instead of checking apps for UX patterns—which used to be my gateway drug—I use Mobbin. It’s like Pinterest for app design, without the risk of falling into an actual app.
It’s actually very doable.
What I Learned for My Work
I still love apps. They make life easier, better, and sometimes even fun. But I’m more aware now of the type of experiences I help create.
I want to build things that are useful. Not things that trap attention.
Also, phones—specifically phones—are addictive. Not Macs. Not iPads. Not Watches. The form factor matters. It’s personal, discreet, always nearby, and filled with a million micro-rewards. I can watch reels on my iPad, I guess, but… I don’t. It just doesn’t scratch the same itch.
Making your product available on iPad, the web, and even Apple Watch is a kindness to people like me—people who want to have utility without falling into the black hole of smartphone usage.
Conclusion
So this is where I am: mostly using the Apple Watch, iPhone turned off, and surprisingly happy about it. Maybe in the future I’ll laugh at this whole thing and wonder why I ever thought I was addicted. Maybe I’ll relapse. Who knows.
But for now, this works. And if you’re reading this, maybe think about your own relationship with your phone. Is it serving you? Or are you just feeding the glowing rectangle more hours than you want to admit?
Either way, there are ways to take control back. Even if it starts with a €10 Nokia.
