From Then to Now
Starting with something I had never experienced before — being without a phone — I began to notice the true psychological impact of going without one for two months. Owning a phone has become so normal that we barely question it. It shapes how we function, communicate, and move through modern life. But what happens when you step away from it completely, whether intentionally or unintentionally?
Episode 1 explores and reflects on the behavioural and psychological changes that emerged during several months without a phone.
I sit between two very different periods of time: a life without a mobile phone, and a life where having one feels almost essential. It’s embarrassing to admit what my first phone was — a Motorola with a plastic flip front to protect the flimsy buttons, and an aerial longer than a 100‑metre sprint track. Phones have clearly come a long way since the days of 35p text messages and needing to stand on scaffolding just to get a signal.
Now, we live in a world where a phone isn’t just a phone. It’s a smartphone capable of doing almost anything — even acting as a spirit level to check whether a cup of tea is sitting straight on a table. We carry more technology in our pockets than the Apollo spacecraft had on board. To put that into perspective, the Apollo guidance computer had just 4 KB of RAM and 72 KB of storage (MIT Instrumentation Laboratory, 1968).
Although not impossible, it’s extremely difficult to be without a phone today. If you ever find yourself without one, you quickly realise the hurdles you face — not to mention the emotional impact.
About The Green Saftey Button
The Moment Everything Shifted
I don’t recall being without a phone since 1998 — until recently, when mine broke into an endless boot‑loop cycle. It’s a common issue, but not one you can easily predict. One of the suggested “solutions” was to seal it in a plastic bag and put it in the freezer to cool the CPU. Unconventional, but surprisingly effective… for five minutes, and then it broke once more. The other method was the classic 90s digital‑camera approach: drop it from a height. The freezer won the competition.
All that I had at my disposal at short notice was a tablet to put my SIM card into. Going from a chocolate bar to a garden slab is quite a shift. Carrying a tablet around meant many sudden life changes and adjustments.
It meant behaving differently towards it: not taking it everywhere, not using it for payments, no maps. But there were some more significant changes to the phone’s absence that I wasn’t expecting to experience. Here are some of them.
Compulsively Checking Without Cause
It was only through the absence of a phone in those earlier stages that I noticed the almost impulsive need to reach into my pocket to check it. Had the phone still been there, I might never have realised I was checking it for no reason at all. But because it wasn’t there — and I couldn’t act on the impulse — I finally became aware of it.
Over time, as I began to unlearn the behaviour, I realised just how automatic it had become. My attention was being pulled away from whatever I was doing, which was consequently reducing my overall ability to focus. To understand this better, I used the Pomodoro technique to establish a baseline. My attention span lasted only five to ten minutes — not even a full Pomodoro that lasts 25 minutes! Things did start to improve as time went on, as the impulse to check dissipated and I could spend longer periods focusing on real‑world things without interruption.
Phantom Vibrations: The Phone That Isn’t There
What I noticed early on reminded me of a study by Singh, Esht and Chahal (2022), which found that people with higher phone dependency are more likely to experience what are known as phantom vibrations — sensations in the areas where a phone is usually kept, such as the hips or legs. When a phone sits in a pocket against the skin, the brain becomes used to receiving frequent vibrations and begins to anticipate them. Small muscle twitches or normal nerve firings can then be misread as a notification, and the brain can learn to imitate the feeling of a phone vibrating by sending vibrational sensations to the place your phone is usually kept, even when the device is absent.
This is exactly what I noticed happening. Whether it had been going on before I realised, I’m not sure, but it wasn’t until I no longer had a phone in my pocket that I became aware my brain had remembered and rewired itself to initiate vibration‑like sensations in my right leg. This links strongly to the point above: when it comes to habit‑checking, the brain learns to “listen” for signals — even when they’re not there. The sensations did stop after a while in the phone’s absence after about week 3.
Increased Focus & Concentration
Phone content is designed to grab attention — sometimes by any means necessary. I explore this in more depth in another article (Wright, 2026).
Distractions come in many shapes and sizes, usually through the various apps available, particularly social media. They can reduce a person’s attention span to the point where focusing for any meaningful length of time becomes difficult, especially when these apps are used frequently and in short bursts. ADHD-like signs and symptoms start to emerge.
I’ve heard many people become acutely aware of this, be unhappy with their usage, and yet describe their experiences of how difficult it is to stop or reduce screen time. They almost describe being “under a spell” — fully conscious of the problem but unable to take action. Ironically, some clients I’ve worked with have are well aware that they don’t have the focus or attention required to break the cycle in the first place because of the action itself.
There’s no judgement here. The rise of the smartphone — and the subtle psychological implications of its use — has been an undercurrent in society for years. Only now are we beginning to recognise its impact.
My own awareness came through the absence of a phone. The constant low‑level distraction had been quietly reducing my attention span, increasing boredom, and creating waves of tiredness throughout the day. The same media content would appear again and again, but what other options were available that matched the unhealthy dopamine levels I had gradually adapted to?
After around the two‑week mark, something shifted. I felt an urge to pick up a book and dedicate a significant amount of focus and attention to reading it — I couldn’t put it down. It started with a book, but over the two months without a phone, I read three medium‑sized books, wrote four articles, consolidated a year’s worth of notes, went on more walks, and even cleaned the front garden, which had been waiting patiently for attention for two years.
Out of Place in the World
This was unexpected. After about a month, I went into town and nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the environment. But not long after arriving, I felt almost like an outsider to everything and everyone around me — almost disconnected. I watched people moving through their busy routines, talking, scrolling, rushing — and I felt separate from all of it. It didn’t feel like dissociation; it felt more like stepping back and seeing a much bigger picture. It seemed as though I was experiencing the world in sandbox mode — almost like someone visiting a foreign place, quietly looking through the window of a different world. It had an almost existential aspect to it.
I continued to experience this in other places and situations, so it wasn’t a one‑off. I still experience it now, and although it might sound unsettling, it isn’t. It feels peaceful and empowering — as though the noise of the world has moved a little further away, leaving more space to be in the world.
Social Attitudes
I took an online exam and, before it began, the invigilator carried out the standard 360‑degree room check — where I had to twirl the camera around the room. They then asked to see where my phone was in relation to the desk. I replied, “I don’t own a phone.” The invigilator looked confused and asked again, so I repeated, “I don’t own a phone, so I can’t show you it.” I had to swivel the camera around once again to confirm.
It made me realise that the invigilator had probably never encountered someone who didn’t have a phone, and so they weren’t quite sure how to respond or what to do next.
Many of my other interactions during this period involved reminding people multiple times, in different contexts, that I didn’t own a phone. I don’t think they fully understood what that actually meant — or they simply found it strange. Society seems not to understand why or how someone could be without something that the majority have. It feels a little like when applications first became accessible online, but people still needed paper versions. Comments such as “Have you not got a computer?” were common. From this, I gathered that it is almost expected that people have a phone — not merely a choice anymore, but an expectation to own one.
Conclusion
One of the strangest yet strangely rewarding experiences was living without a phone. It felt like rediscovering parts of myself I hadn’t realised were missing — things I slowly began to move back toward. The absence made me aware of how much phones interrupt connection, both with ourselves and with others.
Now that I have a phone again, I’ve changed some of my habits. Social media is on a separate device, which removes the temptation to constantly check it. I’m more aware of the impulse to reach for my phone without reason, and I try to stay focused on what’s in front of me rather than what’s on a screen.
I no longer take my phone everywhere, nor do I feel the old “just in case” panic. Yes, something might happen — but phones haven’t always existed, and we managed before. That anxiety was learned, and I needed to break it.
Overall, I’ve become less dependent on a phone for the sake of my wellbeing. I can’t unlearn what the absence taught me or the opportunities it opened up. It makes me wonder whether a simpler, more grounded way of living is still possible — one where we regain a little more control over ourselves.
What might you take from this? Perhaps start by looking at your current phone habits. You might even try being without one for a short while and see what comes up for you. Notice any shifts in your attitude, your attention, or your sense of connection. You don’t have to go without a phone completely, but it may be worth considering the impact your usage has — and what changes, however small, might support your wellbeing.
References
MIT Instrumentation Laboratory. (1968). Apollo Guidance Computer Program Final Report (NASA Contractor Report CR‑153). NASA. Available at: https://ntrs.nasa.gov/citations/19680014302 (Accessed: 16 June 2026).
Singh, R.K., Esht, V. & Chahal, A. (2022) Timed Vibration Sense and Joint Position Sense among Male University Students Experiencing Phantom Vibration Syndrome, Affecting Their Lifestyle. Journal of Lifestyle Medicine, 12(3), pp.171–177. Available at: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9798882/ (Accessed: 16 June 2026).
Wright, W. (2026) ‘“We’re Different…”: Methods in Advertising’, Wright Counselling & Supervision Service. Available at: https://www.wrightcounsellingwcss.com/blog/modern-advertising
Author - Benjamin Wright
Benjamin Wright is a therapeutic counsellor and clinical supervisor exploring the psychological impact of modern life, technology, and human connection.
For more Information Visit: Wright Counselling & Supervision Service