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These 4 phones will drastically reduce your screen time
These 4 phones will drastically reduce your screen time

Fast Company

time6 days ago

  • Fast Company

These 4 phones will drastically reduce your screen time

Let's be honest: Your phone is a jerk. A loud, demanding, little pocket-size jerk that never stops buzzing, dinging, and begging for your attention. It's the first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. Enough! Now, I'm not talking about tossing your phone into a volcano. I'm talking about swapping it out for something simpler. And you don't have to go full Luddite. Here are some unique options that scratch the itch of modern connectivity without all the noise. Light Phone III The Light Phone is a name that's become a philosophical statement, and the Light Phone III is the next evolution in simplicity. Make calls, set alarms, get directions, use the calendar, take notes, and . . . well, that's about it. The E Ink screen from previous Light Phones is gone, replaced with a matte AMOLED (active-matrix organic light-emitting diode) display. It's still black and white and utterly boring, but it's more responsive. And it's got a stripped-down, point-and-shoot camera along with other modern comforts like 5G connectivity, USB-C charging, NFC (near-field communication), and a fingerprint sensor. The phone is available to preorder for $699 and is scheduled to ship in September. If you can't wait that long, check out its $299 predecessor or the similar Mudita Kompakt. Unihertz Jelly Max The Unihertz Jelly Max unapologetically answers a question no one asked: What if a phone had a 5-inch screen and were crammed into a rugged, chunky, see-through body? This $340 phone runs a modern-ish version of Android, which means you can download all the apps you want. But the screen is a little too small for comfortable browsing. The phone itself is a brick. The form factor discourages a lot of casual, mindless use. It's great for someone who needs the power of Android but wants to be reminded with every physical interaction that a phone is a tool, not a lifestyle. The Minimal Phone The Minimal Phone knows you love typing, but it also understands that your iPhone is an endless black hole of distraction. The solution? A full QWERTY keyboard and a proper E Ink screen, just like a Kindle. Available for preorder, this $400 to $500 phone isn't for scrolling through Instagram stories or cruising TikTok all day. It runs a custom version of Android that has an app store with only the essentials. The physical keyboard and the black-and-white screen are brilliant psychological deterrents. The only thing you'll be tempted to do is write an email or a very long text message. It's a phone designed for anything but mindless consumption. Wisephone II Now for a twist. The $400 Wisephone II looks like a smartphone with a big, bright screen and a familiar rectangular shape. Oh, and it's got a Samsung logo on the back, just like . . . wait a minute: This is a Samsung phone. It's actually more than that. It runs on a deeply modified version of Android: no social media, no explicit content, and no web browser. Its purpose is to handle calls, texts, photos, and apps that aren't built to monetize your attention. Basically, a modern device without the digital baggage that comes with it. Aside from the $400 price tag for the phone, you'll need a Wisephone service plan (from $25 to $70 per month), or you can use your own plan and pay just $15 per month for the customized operating system, a curated list of apps, and software support.

Is America headed for an age of dumb phones?
Is America headed for an age of dumb phones?

Business Insider

time19-05-2025

  • Business Insider

Is America headed for an age of dumb phones?

Count him among the "appstinent" — one of a growing number of Americans, mostly millennials and Zoomers, vowing to live a life free of endless scrolling. "Screen time was just crowding out other things," says Thurmond, who's 41. "That's not where I want to get my entertainment, and it's not really where I want to have any substantive conversation. I prefer to do that kind of stuff in the analog world." Three years ago, Thurmond became worried that his smartphone use was making him less present, less social, and less productive. He traded in his Android for a Light Phone, a so-called " dumb phone" that allows him to text and make calls but doesn't give him access to email and social media. With its simple interface and limited features, it's built to ward off phone addiction. The switch wasn't totally seamless. Thurmond, a self-professed "long-winded texter," struggled with the phone's E Ink keyboard, which can take some time getting used to. And not being glued to his phone also meant he was slower to respond to texts, which quickly became a point of friction with his now ex-girlfriend. But as he reduced his screen time, Thurmond realized he didn't need his Android as much as he thought he did, and that many of the Light Phone's inconveniences were actually "benefits in disguise." He started calling people rather than texting, which led to more satisfying interactions. He began each morning sketching out the day's goals on a whiteboard, rather than "just reacting to things" like emails. And instead of using his Android to unlock the Citi Bikes he uses to get around New York, he requested a $10 key from the company. "I was more relaxed, because I didn't have all this stuff rattling around in my brain," he says. "I was just more fulfilled by things in day-to-day life." "Appstinence," a play on abstinence, was coined by Gabriela Nguyen, a 24-year-old graduate student at Harvard. Nguyen, who grew up in Silicon Valley and got her first iPad when she was 9, came to view her addiction to phones and social media as the enemy of productivity and living in the moment. She found her calling in encouraging people to wean themselves off their phones. Last year, she started a club called APPstinence at Harvard and launched a website of the same name. "After adopting this lifestyle, it felt like this incredible, secret, competitive edge that I wanted to share with other people," Nguyen says. Still, even Nguyen isn't completely phone-free. She has three dumb phones, including the Light Phone, which she alternates between based on their usefulness to whatever task she's tackling. For her, appstinence is a bridge to a healthier relationship with technology. "Leaving social media is not a resignation," Nguyen says. "It's not this idea that you've been defeated, now you have to do a walk of surrender." As evidence mounts of our collective phone addiction — and the toxic effects of social media — there's a growing appetite for the Gospel of Appstinence. Searches for dumb phones have been surging. From Amsterdam to Brooklyn, there's a growing trend of nightclubs requesting that revelers leave their phones at home — or at least keep them off the dance floor. Adults like Thurmond and Nguyen, who grew up when the internet and social media were just taking off, are perhaps the most desperate to reclaim the attention and focus that technology has taken from them. But lately, the appstinence movement has also begun to capture teens and college students, many of whom grew up seeing their phones as integral to their social lives. A recent survey by the Pew Research Center found that most American teens have access to smartphones — and nearly half reported being online "almost constantly." Samantha Palazzolo was in sixth grade when she got her first iPhone, and she spent most of her middle and high school years glued to it. "I would stay on social media, scrolling instead of going to sleep, even if I was tired," says Palazzolo, who's now 20. She began questioning her social media addiction during her freshman year at the University of Illinois. After waking up one morning feeling deeply embarrassed by an Instagram story she'd posted the night before, she began reflecting on how social media was consistently killing the vibe. "Going into college, everyone was telling us, 'You're going to remember these moments forever,'" she says. But her phone was distracting her from her actual experiences. "We were going out to these parties and people would just be scrolling on their phones," she says. So she and two friends bought flip phones — an old technology that was totally new to them. She loved how the antique-looking gadget served as a natural conversation starter in social situations. And to declare her newfound freedom from social media, Palazzolo turned — where else? — to social media. Her TikTok paean to flip phones went viral, garnering over 18 million views. She also joined a growing number of Gen Zers on TikTok who unbox and offer reviews of their favorite dumb phones. Cult favorites include an HMD Barbie-branded model of the Cat S22, a flip phone compatible with most apps but with a small enough screen to deter doomscrolling. Sen Killingsworth was an even earlier convert to appstinence. At 15, he traded in his smartphone and started hosting phone-free events at his high school. A few of his peers parodied his events in mocking posts on Instagram — precisely the kind of online bullying he was hoping to get away from. But Killingsworth stuck with it. Today, he runs the Reconnect Movement, which hosts phone-free events across college campuses "to create a fully engaged, uninterrupted social environment that Gen Z rarely experiences." Killingsworth, who's now 22, recently partnered with Nguyen and Jonathan Haidt, the author of " The Anxious Generation" and a leader in the growing phone-free school movement. Together, they've linked up with Truth Initiative, which advocates against youth nicotine addiction, to plan an international "day of appstinence" to encourage Gen Zers to delete their social media apps. "It's like a muscular atrophy of our social skills," Killingsworth says of our phone-centric lives. Luckily, he's found that the condition is temporary if it's caught early enough. "They come right back in 15, 30 minutes," he says. Thurmond's journey to appstinence started in 2022. Craving more in-person interactions as the COVID pandemic wound down, he began hosting monthly digital detox events, which attracted people whose phone use had exploded during the lockdowns — including one man who had spent most of his time messaging with an AI chatbot. The attendees, Thurmond realized, were far more diverse than the people in the algorithm-fueled bubbles of his social media. At one of the events, Thurmond invited Joe Hollier, a cofounder of Light Phone, to make a presentation. The Light Phone is unabashedly a niche product — a "simple device" that's "designed to be used as little as possible." Given its price tag of $699 for the latest model — $100 more than an iPhone 16e, but with far fewer features — only a true believer would consider buying one. Most of the customers are between 25 and 40. "The whole value is in it not distracting you, but giving you the peace of mind that if there's an emergency, you have a phone," Hollier says. The idea for the Light Phone came to Hollier a decade ago. At the time, he and his cofounder, Kaiwei Tang, were taking part in a Google incubator program for creatives who were developing apps. But Hollier and Tang found the experience to be more insidious than inspiring. In the world of phone apps, addiction wasn't a byproduct of success — it was the goal."If an app was sticky, then there was a business model to be made," Hollier says. He wanted to do the opposite. Hollier developed a prototype of the Light Phone while completing his bachelor's degree at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. Since then, riding the wave of the appstinence movement, he's sold 100,000 phones. In 2023, the company collaborated with pgLang, Kendrick Lamar's creative agency, to release a limited-edition Light Phone. It sold out in less than a day. But Hollier has also witnessed the limitations of his dumbed-down phone in our hyper-online world. One couple gave a positive report after taking a Light Phone out with them on a date. Being unplugged was so refreshing, they said, that it gave them butterflies again. But the evening took a turn when they couldn't order an Uber, and they got into an argument as they tried to figure out the best way to get home. And even the biggest boosters of appstinence can find themselves pulled back into the habit of constant scrolling. Palazzolo, who just graduated from college, says she still uses her flip phone a few nights a month when she goes out with friends. But she expects to start using her smartphone more as she hunts for a job and perhaps moves to a bigger city. A dumb phone may be liberating, but a digital age requires digital tools. "It's really impractical," Palazzolo says. For those who are sticking it out, the hardest thing about liberating themselves from smartphones has been existing in a world of phone addicts. Thurmond feels this acutely when traveling around New York City and navigating hordes of people staring into their devices or using them to create content. It's like giving up alcohol while living 24/7 in a bar.

The age of dumb phones is here
The age of dumb phones is here

Business Insider

time18-05-2025

  • Business Insider

The age of dumb phones is here

Matt Thurmond seems like a poster child for tech-forward millennials. He runs an AI-assisted platform for mortgage professionals. He leads a nonprofit that connects longevity researchers, investors, and startups. He was the copresident of a technology conference at Harvard, where he got his MBA. So it's a little surprising that Thurmond is almost never on his phone. Count him among the "appstinent" — one of a growing number of Americans, mostly millennials and Zoomers, vowing to live a life free of endless scrolling. "Screen time was just crowding out other things," says Thurmond, who's 41. "That's not where I want to get my entertainment, and it's not really where I want to have any substantive conversation. I prefer to do that kind of stuff in the analog world." Three years ago, Thurmond became worried that his smartphone use was making him less present, less social, and less productive. He traded in his Android for a Light Phone, a so-called " dumb phone" that allows him to text and make calls but doesn't give him access to email and social media. With its simple interface and limited features, it's built to ward off phone addiction. The switch wasn't totally seamless. Thurmond, a self-professed "long-winded texter," struggled with the phone's E Ink keyboard, which can take some time getting used to. And not being glued to his phone also meant he was slower to respond to texts, which quickly became a point of friction with his now ex-girlfriend. But as he reduced his screen time, Thurmond realized he didn't need his Android as much as he thought he did, and that many of the Light Phone's inconveniences were actually "benefits in disguise." He started calling people rather than texting, which led to more satisfying interactions. He began each morning sketching out the day's goals on a whiteboard, rather than "just reacting to things" like emails. And instead of using his Android to unlock the Citi Bikes he uses to get around New York, he requested a $10 key from the company. "I was more relaxed, because I didn't have all this stuff rattling around in my brain," he says. "I was just more fulfilled by things in day-to-day life." "Appstinence," a play on abstinence, was coined by Gabriela Nguyen, a 24-year-old graduate student at Harvard. Nguyen, who grew up in Silicon Valley and got her first iPad when she was 9, came to view her addiction to phones and social media as the enemy of productivity and living in the moment. She found her calling in encouraging people to wean themselves off their phones. Last year, she started a club called APPstinence at Harvard and launched a website of the same name. "After adopting this lifestyle, it felt like this incredible, secret, competitive edge that I wanted to share with other people," Nguyen says. Still, even Nguyen isn't completely phone-free. She has three dumb phones, including the Light Phone, which she alternates between based on their usefulness to whatever task she's tackling. For her, appstinence is a bridge to a healthier relationship with technology. "Leaving social media is not a resignation," Nguyen says. "It's not this idea that you've been defeated, now you have to do a walk of surrender." As evidence mounts of our collective phone addiction — and the toxic effects of social media — there's a growing appetite for the Gospel of Appstinence. Searches for dumb phones have been surging. From Amsterdam to Brooklyn, there's a growing trend of nightclubs requesting that revelers leave their phones at home — or at least keep them off the dance floor. Adults like Thurmond and Nguyen, who grew up when the internet and social media were just taking off, are perhaps the most desperate to reclaim the attention and focus that technology has taken from them. But lately, the appstinence movement has also begun to capture teens and college students, many of whom grew up seeing their phones as integral to their social lives. A recent survey by the Pew Research Center found that most American teens have access to smartphones — and nearly half reported being online "almost constantly." Constant scrolling has changed us in ways large and small. Samantha Palazzolo was in sixth grade when she got her first iPhone, and she spent most of her middle and high school years glued to it. "I would stay on social media, scrolling instead of going to sleep, even if I was tired," says Palazzolo, who's now 20. She began questioning her social media addiction during her freshman year at the University of Illinois. After waking up one morning feeling deeply embarrassed by an Instagram story she'd posted the night before, she began reflecting on how social media was consistently killing the vibe. "Going into college, everyone was telling us, 'You're going to remember these moments forever,'" she says. But her phone was distracting her from her actual experiences. "We were going out to these parties and people would just be scrolling on their phones," she says. So she and two friends bought flip phones — an old technology that was totally new to them. She loved how the antique-looking gadget served as a natural conversation starter in social situations. And to declare her newfound freedom from social media, Palazzolo turned — where else? — to social media. Her TikTok paean to flip phones went viral, garnering over 18 million views. She also joined a growing number of Gen Zers on TikTok who unbox and offer reviews of their favorite dumb phones. Cult favorites include an HMD Barbie-branded model of the Cat S22, a flip phone compatible with most apps but with a small enough screen to deter doomscrolling. Seán Killingsworth was an even earlier convert to appstinence. At 15, he traded in his smartphone and started hosting phone-free events at his high school. A few of his peers parodied his events in mocking posts on Instagram — precisely the kind of online bullying he was hoping to get away from. But Killingsworth stuck with it. Today, he runs the Reconnect Movement, which hosts phone-free events across college campuses "to create a fully engaged, uninterrupted social environment that Gen Z rarely experiences." Killingsworth, who's now 22, recently partnered with Nguyen and Jonathan Haidt, the author of " The Anxious Generation" and a leader in the growing phone-free school movement. Together, they've linked up with Truth Initiative, which advocates against youth nicotine addiction, to plan an international "day of appstinence" to encourage Gen Zers to delete their social media apps. "It's like a muscular atrophy of our social skills," Killingsworth says of our phone-centric lives. Luckily, he's found that the condition is temporary if it's caught early enough. "They come right back in 15, 30 minutes," he says. Thurmond's journey to appstinence started in 2022. Craving more in-person interactions as the COVID pandemic wound down, he began hosting monthly digital detox events, which attracted people whose phone use had exploded during the lockdowns — including one man who had spent most of his time messaging with an AI chatbot. The attendees, Thurmond realized, were far more diverse than the people in the algorithm-fueled bubbles of his social media. At one of the events, Thurmond invited Joe Hollier, a cofounder of Light Phone, to make a presentation. The Light Phone is unabashedly a niche product — a "simple device" that's "designed to be used as little as possible." Given its price tag of $699 for the latest model — $100 more than an iPhone 16e, but with far fewer features — only a true believer would consider buying one. Most of the customers are between 25 and 40. "The whole value is in it not distracting you, but giving you the peace of mind that if there's an emergency, you have a phone," Hollier says. Appstinence may be liberating. But a digital age requires digital tools. The idea for the Light Phone came to Hollier a decade ago. At the time, he and his cofounder, Kaiwei Tang, were taking part in a Google incubator program for creatives who were developing apps. But Hollier and Tang found the experience to be more insidious than inspiring. In the world of phone apps, addiction wasn't a byproduct of success — it was the goal."If an app was sticky, then there was a business model to be made," Hollier says. He wanted to do the opposite. Hollier developed a prototype of the Light Phone while completing his bachelor's degree at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. Since then, riding the wave of the appstinence movement, he's sold 100,000 phones. In 2023, the company collaborated with pgLang, Kendrick Lamar's creative agency, to release a limited-edition Light Phone. It sold out in less than a day. But Hollier has also witnessed the limitations of his dumbed-down phone in our hyper-online world. One couple gave a positive report after taking a Light Phone out with them on a date. Being unplugged was so refreshing, they said, that it gave them butterflies again. But the evening took a turn when they couldn't order an Uber, and they got into an argument as they tried to figure out the best way to get home. And even the biggest boosters of appstinence can find themselves pulled back into the habit of constant scrolling. Palazzolo, who just graduated from college, says she still uses her flip phone a few nights a month when she goes out with friends. But she expects to start using her smartphone more as she hunts for a job and perhaps moves to a bigger city. A dumb phone may be liberating, but a digital age requires digital tools. "It's really impractical," Palazzolo says. For those who are sticking it out, the hardest thing about liberating themselves from smartphones has been existing in a world of phone addicts. Thurmond feels this acutely when traveling around New York City and navigating hordes of people staring into their devices or using them to create content. It's like giving up alcohol while living 24/7 in a bar.

Can dumber phone cure ‘Brain Rot'?
Can dumber phone cure ‘Brain Rot'?

Observer

time11-04-2025

  • Observer

Can dumber phone cure ‘Brain Rot'?

Dear readers, I have a confession: I am suffering from an ailment that the younger ones call 'brain rot,' the inability to think deeply after too much scrolling on my phone. These days, it's tough to even finish a book. Plenty of people have this problem. So many, it has birthed a category of minimalist tech products striving to rid us of distractions, from the Ai Pin, the now defunct artificially intelligent lapel pin that took notes, to phones with only basic features. The latest example, the $600 Light Phone III, from a New York City startup, is a stripped-down phone that does barely anything. The newest version, which began shipping in March and is set for a broader release in July, can place calls, send texts, take photos, show map directions, play music and podcasts; and not do much else. There is no web browser. There is also no app store, meaning there's no Uber to hail a ride, no Slack and no social media. There isn't even email. 'You use it when you need to and when you put it back it disappears in your life,' said Kaiwei Tang, CEO of Light, the startup that has developed multiple iterations of the Light Phone over the past nine years.I was curious to see if the Light Phone could cure me of brain rot, so I used it as my primary phone for a week. There were moments I enjoyed it. While waiting for a train, resting at the gym or eating alone, I was not tempted to stare at the phone screen and I felt more mindful of my surroundings. Phone calls sounded nice and clear. The maps app did a fine job navigating me around town. It reminded me of simpler times when we used phones primarily to converse before putting them away to focus on other tasks. But over the week, the downsides of a dumber phone chipped away at my enjoyment; and overall I felt more stressed and less capable. I suddenly found myself unable to get into a train station, look up the name of a new restaurant or control my garage door. Some of that has less to do with the Light Phone itself, which is a so-so product and more to do with how society as a whole has become dependent on advanced smartphone features. Here's how my week went running errands, commuting and going out with a lower-tech phone. GETTING STARTED When I set up my review unit of the Light Phone over the weekend, the phone, which looks like a black rectangular slab, was pretty bare-bones. The phone's menu was a black screen showing a white-text list of its features: phone, camera, photo album and alarm. To add more tools, I had to use a web browser on my computer to access a dashboard, where I could install features like a maps app, notepad and timer. Now that I was ready to go, I was determined to live, at least for a while, without my iPhone. COMMUTING TO WORK On Monday morning, I started my commute to work, taking a train from Oakland, California, to San Francisco. When I arrived at the station, I realised I couldn't enter without my iPhone because years ago I had converted my physical transit pass, the Clipper Card, into a virtual one stored in my smartphone's mobile wallet. The Light Phone lacked a mobile wallet to load the virtual transit card, so I sheepishly went back home to get my iPhone and ultimately showed up to the office a half-hour late. TEXTING FRIENDS AND TAKING PHOTOS I added a few of my closest friends to the address book on the Light Phone and sent them text messages explaining my experiment. Typing on the device's keyboard felt sluggish in part because there was no autocorrect feature to fix typos. As a result, conversations were terse. Hilarity ensued when I sent people photos. Poorly lit and grainy, the images looked as if they were produced with a phone camera from at least 15 years ago. RUNNING ERRANDS One afternoon, I had to drop off an Amazon return at a UPS Store. I chose the most convenient shipping option, which involved showing a QR code for scanning. The problem? The Light Phone had no email app or web browser to download the code. Instead, I loaded it on my computer screen and snapped a mediocre picture with the phone. When I brought the package to UPS and presented the photo, I held my breath, hoping that the image was clear enough. The UPS employee held the scanner up and, after three attempts, I heard a beep and a shipping label printed. What a relief, but also, what a hassle. Bottom Line While I admire the goal of the Light Phone, my experience demonstrates there's nothing we can realistically do or buy to bring us back to simpler times. So many aspects of our lives, including getting around town, working, paying for things and controlling home appliances, revolve around our highly capable smartphones. Tang, Light's CEO, acknowledged that the Light Phone was not for everyone but added that parents have considered buying the phone for their children to be less distracted in school. The company is also working on adding more tools, such as mobile payments and the ability to request a Lyft car. — The New York Times

Can Using a Dumber Phone Cure ‘Brain Rot'?
Can Using a Dumber Phone Cure ‘Brain Rot'?

New York Times

time06-04-2025

  • New York Times

Can Using a Dumber Phone Cure ‘Brain Rot'?

Dear readers, I have a confession: I am suffering from an ailment that the younger ones call 'brain rot,' the inability to think deeply after too much scrolling on my phone. These days, it's tough to even finish a book. Plenty of people have this problem. So many, it has birthed a category of minimalist tech products striving to rid us of distractions, from the Ai Pin, the now defunct artificially intelligent lapel pin that took notes, to phones with only basic features. The latest example, the $600 Light Phone III, from a Brooklyn start-up, is a stripped-down phone that does barely anything. The newest version, which began shipping in March and is set for a broader release in July, can place calls, send texts, take photos, show map directions, play music and podcasts and not do much else. There is no web browser. There is also no app store, meaning there's no Uber to hail a ride, no Slack and no social media. There isn't even email. 'You use it when you need to, and when you put it back it disappears in your life,' said Kaiwei Tang, the chief executive of Light, the start-up that has developed multiple iterations of the Light Phone over the last nine years. 'We get a lot of customers telling us they feel less stressed out, they become more productive, they become creative.' I was curious to see if the Light Phone could cure me of brain rot, so I used it as my primary phone for a week. There were moments I enjoyed it. While waiting for a train, resting at the gym or eating alone, I was not tempted to stare at the phone screen, and I felt more mindful of my surroundings. Phone calls sounded nice and clear. The maps app did a fine job navigating me around town. It reminded me of simpler times when we used phones primarily to converse before putting them away to focus on other tasks. But over the week, the downsides of a dumber phone chipped away at my enjoyment, and over all I felt more stressed and less capable. I suddenly found myself unable to get into a train station, look up the name of a new restaurant or control my garage door. Some of that has less to do with the Light Phone itself, which is a so-so product, and more to do with how society as a whole has become dependent on advanced smartphone features. Here's how my week went running errands, commuting and going out with a lower-tech phone. Getting Started When I set up my review unit of the Light Phone over the weekend, the phone, which looks like a black rectangular slab, was pretty bare-bones. The phone's menu was a black screen showing a white-text list of its features: phone, camera, photo album and alarm. To add more tools, I had to use a web browser on my computer to access a dashboard, where I could install features like a maps app, notepad and timer. Now that I was ready to go, I was determined to live, at least for a while, without my iPhone. Commuting to Work On Monday morning, I started my commute to work, taking a train from Oakland, Calif., to San Francisco. When I arrived at the station, I realized I couldn't enter without my iPhone because years ago I had converted my physical transit pass, the Clipper Card, into a virtual one stored in my smartphone's mobile wallet. The Light Phone lacked a mobile wallet to load the virtual transit card, so I sheepishly went back home to get my iPhone and ultimately showed up to the office a half-hour late. Going to the Gym I ran into a similar snag one evening at my rock climbing gym. To get in, members use their phones to log in to the gym's website and generate a temporary bar code that gets scanned at the entrance. Because the Light Phone lacked a web browser, I couldn't create a bar code, so I had to wait in line at the front desk. Texting Friends and Taking Photos I added a few of my closest friends to the address book on the Light Phone and sent them text messages explaining my experiment. Typing on the device's keyboard felt sluggish in part because there was no autocorrect feature to fix typos. As a result, conversations were terse. Hilarity ensued when I sent people photos. Poorly lit and grainy, the images looked as if they were produced with a phone camera from at least 15 years ago. 'Retro!' one friend said in response to a blurry photo of my daughter. 'Wow, that's bad,' another friend said about a dimly lit photo of my corgi, Max. Light's founders said they were proud of the Light Phone camera, which has a nostalgic feel to it. Running Errands One afternoon, I had to drop off an Amazon return at a UPS Store. I chose the most convenient shipping option, which involved showing a QR code for scanning. The problem? The Light Phone had no email app or web browser to download the code. Instead, I loaded it on my computer screen and snapped a mediocre picture with the phone. When I brought the package to UPS and presented the photo, I held my breath, hoping that the image was clear enough. The UPS employee held the scanner up and, after three attempts, I heard a beep and a shipping label printed. What a relief, but also, what a hassle. Lunch Date On another afternoon, my wife and I went out for an impromptu lunch date. I backed the car out and then had to ask my wife to use her iPhone to close our garage door with the app MyQ. (Our physical garage door opener stopped working years ago.) Then, we were trying to remember the name of a new sushi restaurant we had recently read about on a food blog. I couldn't help dig up the blog post on the Light Phone. Eventually, we made a guess and ended up at the wrong restaurant. It was nice, though, to have lunch together without the temptation to check my email. Bottom Line While I admire the goal of the Light Phone, my experience demonstrates there's nothing we can realistically do or buy to bring us back to simpler times. So many aspects of our lives, including getting around town, working, paying for things and controlling home appliances, revolve around our highly capable smartphones. This Light Phone experiment reminded me of glamping: paying a lot to have an artificially crummier experience. I can't think of many people whose jobs would let them realistically use a Light Phone as their only phone. Too many of us rely on tools like Slack and email to communicate. The Light Phone might be better suited as a secondary leisure phone, similar to a weekend car, for people to unplug when they are off work. But even then, the camera quality may be a deal breaker for some. Mr. Tang, Light's chief executive, acknowledged that the Light Phone was not for everyone, but added that parents have considered buying the phone for their children to be less distracted in school. The company is also working on adding more tools, such as mobile payments and the ability to request a Lyft car.

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