Here comes Lent: Put down that phone and make soup

Using your screen-devices less is good; putting that time to good use is even better

What we have here are two think pieces that, at first glance, may not seem to be related.

First the stick. Then the carrot (even though I am no fan of carrots).

Last spring, I saw something rather painful during an Alaskan cruise. We were deep into a nook in the Glacier Bay Basin and the ship was making a slow 180-degree turn that let passengers all over the ship enjoy the stunning views.

At one point, I turned around and saw a small boy sitting in a deck chair, lost in his video game on a smartphone. Then I saw a few smiling people taking photos of him, using their smartphones. I guess these images were headed to social media. I have to admit that I was tempted to do the same thing.

I was reminded of that scene the other day when I hit this passage in a Catherine Price essay — “Are You Struggling With Your Own Screen Time?” — posted at After Babel, the must-bookmark website of Jonathan “The Anxious Generation” Haidt and his research team:

One night about ten years ago, when my daughter was just a baby, I had a moment when I noticed that she was gazing up at me, while I was gazing down at my phone — and it broke my heart. That was not the impression I wanted her to have of a human relationship, let alone with her own mother, and that was not how I wanted to live my own life.

I realized I needed to change, but I couldn’t find a book that provided me with a practical solution. So I decided to write that book. I designed How to Break Up With Your Phone to combine an exploration of why our smartphones and apps are so compelling (and what our screen time is doing to us) with a step-by-step, evidence-backed, 30-day plan for how to take back control. The goal isn’t to dump your smartphone completely (unless you want to). It’s to create a healthier relationship with technology in which your phone makes your life better, not worse.

Obviously, this is another book that some of us are going to want on our screen-culture bookshelf.

I say that because, whenever I speak on these issues in church settings, I have a few adults approach me asking questions that sound something like this: OK, I know that it’s important to face the issue of kids and cellphones — but what if my husband and I are always sitting together with cups of coffee while staring at our phones?

Part of the problem, of course, is that smartphones are now integrated into our careers and just about everything else. If you feel that phone vibration during church, don’t you wonder if it’s (a) a family emergency, (b) some “essential” work text or (c) just a “breaking news” bulletin about something in politics or sports?

Maybe you now know that Instagram is a problem. But, alas, that is also where you see family photos and, well, you get all of those vegan recipes that you will want to use during Great Lent (which is just around the corner).

You will want to read the smartphone-control tips in the Price essay. But here are two info-bites near the top that are, well, bracing. The first concerns her advice that people sit down and write a break-up letter with their phone:

It sounds silly at first, but it can be a surprisingly powerful way to clarify your motivations and goals. For example, here’s a sample breakup letter that I included in the book:

“Dear Phone: You fill my head with so much stuff I can’t hear my own thoughts. That’s the thing I resent the most. Why should you get to dictate what I think about, and when? I want to go back to a time when I had to entertain myself, to experience the way boredom breeds creativity, to learn the contours of my own mind and allow it to work at its own pace. . . . I want the ability to stand still in a silent room . . . as silent as I can get with a three-year-old, anyway. As for my boy, I want him to see me, and know he is seen. What’s best for me is what’s best for him, too.” —C

Then there is a chart offering a look into the mathematics of smartphone use: