The Flip Phone Experiment: Dumber Phone, Smarter Brain
You may have been wondering what effects your smartphone really has on your psychology. How much of your brain power and agency is reduced by reliance on this technology? Is it even possible in this day and age to ditch a smartphone? “How would I connect with others?” the FOMO monster wonders. And would the benefits even be worth it in the end? I strongly believe in being the change I wish to see in the world. So I cut the cord, braved the wild, and returned with a cheat sheet. I can’t wait to share this journey with you- but first, a quick background.
The Why
As a millennial, I grew up in a time when people looked straight ahead while walking instead of down at a screen. I know, I sound like an old timer, but stay with me! “Back in my day” people made eye contact. Sometimes, even striking up conversation simply because they were bored. But boredom barely exists today in a world tuned to the relentless hum of overlapping pings, vibrations, and flashing notifications.
Cell phones started as humble, straightforward tools—just a way to make calls and send a few short texts. They were simple, no-frills devices that did one thing and did it well: connect people through voice. But over the years, these simple gadgets morphed into something entirely different. Today, they’re supercomputers in our pockets, with more processing power than the technology that sent astronauts to the moon. They’re packed with cameras, apps, games, GPS, and instant access to an endless stream of information.
With the rapid evolution of technology, it's worth questioning whether our brains are equipped to handle the sheer volume of information we’re constantly bombarded with. In the past, humans processed much smaller amounts of data, relying on our memory and attention for specific tasks. But now, we’re juggling a constant stream of notifications, social media updates, emails, messages, and endless scrolling.
Studies suggest that this overwhelming influx of information might be pushing our cognitive limits. Our brains, while incredibly adaptable, may struggle with the constant multitasking and task-switching required by this hyper-stimulated environment. In fact, research shows that our ability to focus has decreased in the age of smartphones, with the average attention span now shorter than that of a goldfish.
Interestingly, the majority of people I tell about my dumbphone experiment applaud it. They say things like “I wish I could do that, but I can’t with my work” or “wow that sound so freeing, I hate this thing (point to their smartphone).”
If technology is supposed provide freedom and increase our quality of life, why do people feel increasingly trapped and unhappy with it?
Devolution
Interestingly, if we look back at ancient civilizations like the Mayans and the Nazcas, we see a different relationship between human cognition and the world around them. The Mayans, for instance, developed intricate systems of writing, mathematics, and astronomy, all without the modern tools we rely on today. Their ability to map the stars, predict celestial events, and build monumental structures speaks to a finely tuned technology of the mind—where memory, focus, and mental calculation were key to survival and progress. Similarly, the Nazcas left behind massive geoglyphs, their meaning still partly a mystery, but indicative of a culture capable of complex thinking and deep understanding of the natural world. In India, even in modern times in the untouched countryside, it is common to see 8 year old kids able to recite the entire Vedas from memory - that’s akin to having the Bible memorized.
These ancient societies relied on their brains to encode, interpret, and transmit knowledge, without the distractions of modern technology. Their civilizations were built on focus, memory, and a finely tuned awareness of the world around them—skills that may be increasingly undermined in our tech-saturated age.
“At some point we have to ask: Are smartphones making us both dumber and more unhappy?”
While study after study shows that the mental health of the general population has rapidly declined since the advent of smartphones, I do not subscribe to the man vs. machine narrative. Man can never truly 'beat' machine (see innate human fallibility), nor can we be it.
However, at this rate, we’re on track to regressing to the intelligence of our early Neanderthal ancestors.
Devolutionˌ devəˈlo͞oSH(ə)n/
noun
This term refers to the process of declining or returning to a less advanced state, either in terms of complexity or development. In biology, it’s sometimes used (though controversially) to describe a process where a species appears to lose traits or abilities over time, going backward in some sense.
Making the phrase "as dumb as an ape", that much more apropos.
All this said, I still felt resistance to giving up all the luxuries and convenience afforded to me by my mobile device. So, I decided to run a month-long experiment with a flip phone to see how it went! .
Subscribed
Day 1: Initial Struggles
I chose the Nokia 2780—cheap and dumb, my two main criteria. As soon as I committed, I felt sudden trepidation, looking for excuses not to do it. At one point, the phone wouldn’t turn on, and I secretly hoped it was bricked—freeing me from my self-imposed experiment. But unfortunately (or fortunately), it started working.
Transferring contacts was a process since iPhones don’t store them on SIM cards. I had to log into iCloud on my computer, export my contacts to a VCF file, connect my Nokia via Bluetooth, and send the file. Thankfully, my 650 contacts transferred seamlessly. I also disabled iMessage on my devices to ensure texts would successfully reach the Nokia.
Navigating the contacts list gave me immediate anxiety. T9 texting felt archaic, but surprisingly, my muscle memory kicked in. I immediately felt both an old-school coolness and a hipster-like self-consciousness using it in public.
Expected Inconveniences
Texting: Bearable, but inconvenient. Instead, I’ve started calling people more—and I love it. I think my friends do, too. Most mental health experts will tell you that texting has been a plague on our psyches since its invention. It makes us less connected and ultimately less happy. One guideline I always give therapy clients: "Never convey emotion over text." Mirror neurons do not fire over text messages. A text should only be for close-ended questions like "What time are we meeting?" or "Are you free Saturday?" Anything else? Call them. Even better—schedule a time to meet in person.
Maps: Technically, there’s a maps app, but it's so slow and clunky that it’s basically unusable. I vowed not to rely on it. Instead, I looked up directions ahead of time, jotted down key landmarks, and set off. I was shocked at how poor my mental map had become. I got lost several times, once for over an hour. I even considered pulling over to ask for directions (which, honestly, I’m excited to do—it’s another way to spark human interaction).
Music/Podcasts: This was tough. I love listening to music and audiobooks in the car. But surprisingly, I haven't found myself bored. Not having GPS means I pay closer attention to my surroundings. I notice landmarks, interesting shops, and just feel more present while driving.
Payments: I started carrying cash more, which I actually enjoy. It helps me break free from credit card companies and encourages healthier spending habits. There's something oddly satisfying about physically handing over money to a cashier, making eye contact, and exchanging a few words.
OAuth Apps & Digital Logins: Most two-factor authentication codes come through as texts, so that’s fine. But WhatsApp, which requires a phone number for activation, was trickier. Every now and then, I booted up my old iPhone to sync WhatsApp on my computer.
The Camera Dilemma
This is a big one. The Nokia technically has a camera, but it is slow, low quality, and basically unusable. For the purposes of the experiment, I purchased a Camp Snap digital camera. It looked cute, retro, and was relatively cheap. I should probably post a separate review of that camera, but it was a colossal disappointment. Considering how simple it is, it could easily have been ¼ the size, which would’ve made it more convenient. Considering the simplicity and crappy photo quality, the $65 price point is clearly a nostalgia tax.
I chose to not carry a camera at all, which had surprising benefits. I noticed I was more attuned to my surroundings, taking in the details in order to better describe them to others. It made me think of another possible negative around smartphones—are they diminishing our ability to tell descriptive stories? My partner certainly noticed I was describing my hikes in more detail. Wouldn’t it feel more connecting to describe your vacations and experiences in detail with your friends, rather than flipping through a photo album? We all know the pictures never really do justice to the experience anyway. I theorize it may be better to describe the scene and leave the rest to imagination. The pictures end up limiting imagination.
Unexpected Inconveniences
Checking voicemail: Visual voicemail on my iPhone made it easy to delete spam messages. Now, I have to dial in, listen long enough to tell if it’s spam, and manually delete them. Minor, but annoying.
Spam calls: On my iPhone, I had focus mode enabled so only saved contacts could reach me. With the flip phone, I get several spam calls daily. Annoying, but manageable.
QR Codes Everywhere: I went to a bar where the only way to see the menu was by scanning a QR code. They had zero physical menus. Same for the karaoke sign-up. Are people without smartphones simply unwelcome now? This feels like some sort of -ism, most people in the world still don’t have smartphones. This might be my new litmus test for which establishments deserve my money.
The Positive Results
Attention Span & Focus: My ability to focus is way up. Even when I minimized notifications on my smartphone, I still compulsively checked it. Now, I don’t. There have been studies that indicate the presence of a smartphone in a meeting room, even face down on the table, still ends up sapping the attention span of attendees. Our subconscious is smart. It knows that a shiny object is there, waiting to delight us with dopamine. It’s akin to having a wheelbarrow full of pornography, candy, movies, and puppies sitting next to us. We can try to ignore it, but it still pulls some of our attention, draining our willpower reserves. Without it, my mental clarity has notably increased.
Connection: Since texting is a pain, I call people more. I’ve also struck up more conversations with strangers. These micro-connections are surprisingly nourishing.
Memory: Without instant access to my external brain, my memory is improving. Most notably, I’m developing a better mental map of Los Angeles. I’ve also started carrying a pocket notebook, which further enhances memory retention.
Happiness: This one is tricky—confirmation bias might be at play—but I do feel my baseline level of happiness is higher. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of going against the grain. Or maybe all these small changes add up to something greater. I suspect it’s the latter.
Final Thoughts: Will I Keep the Flip Phone?
Going into the experiment, I honestly had no idea if I would want to continue using the flip phone after the month was up. As I mentioned, I felt trepidation at even starting the experiment. However, the flip phone experiment has had profound, unexpected positive results for me. Do I think I would go back to my iPhone? I honestly don’t see myself doing so at this time. I am blessed to live a life where a smart phone is not a hard requirement the vast majority of the time. I had given up social media apps on my phone a long time ago, so I do not miss those. I can access social media in small doses on my laptop when I wish to.
I feel notably more present, connected, intelligent, and happy. Why would I give that up?
I have considered eventually upgrading to one of the more “advanced” dump phones in the future, such as the Light Phone, Punkt, or Minimal Phone. However, I don’t like the idea of paying $300+ for a dumb phone, and the added functionality those give over the Nokia, such as texting and maps, are things that I don’t feel I need. They end up being things that potentially take away from my pleasant dumb phone experience. So, I’m not sure yet. I do know that, for now, the flip phone will stay.
Finally, let me say that I don’t particularly recommend the Nokia 2780. I honestly think it’s a piece of shit. It has an app store, and built-in apps such as a browser and maps that are so slow and clunk as to be functionally unusable. The phone is much bigger than one would expect, too. I’d prefer a paired down, slimmer phone. An old school Razr would be superior for my preferences, but America has mostly phased out 2G and 3G towers, so booting up an old refurbished Razr won’t work.
Would I recommend the flip phone experiment? Absolutely. If you’re feeling like your attention, presence, or overall well-being has been hijacked by your smartphone, try it for a month. You might just surprise yourself. And please let me know how it goes!
Summary
My hypothesis? Smartphones are a net negative on our psyches and livelihoods.
