Politics & Common Sense — Column by John Spencer
They say necessity is the mother of invention. But what about the invention that has become the mother of distraction? I’m talking, of course, about the smartphone, the sleek, glowing rectangle that has quietly, and then not-so-quietly, taken over our lives. It seems we’ve all been conscripted into a digital army, constantly at attention, ready to respond to the next ping, buzz, or notification.
This constant distraction is not just relegated to kids. I’ve seen them all, from the fresh-faced teenager to the seasoned retiree, all bowing to the same digital deity.
It’s a scene you can spot almost anywhere: a restaurant server pausing mid-shift to glance at their phone while a table of diners waits for drink refills. At the next table, a customer scrolls through social media between bites, barely looking up to engage with their companions. Step into a clothing store and you might notice an employee in the stockroom doorway, quietly checking notifications before heading back to the sales floor. Walk through a home improvement store and you’ll likely spot an employee strategically positioned in a quiet aisle, stealing a moment to check the latest digital post. Have you ever noticed an individual walking or crossing a street with their eyes buried in their phone?
The fear of missing out (FOMO) at its best, a silent protest against the demands of the job. This multi-tasking fallacy has many of us all believing we can perform our duties and manage our digital lives at the same time. The reality, of course, is that most of us are doing neither with any real competence.
The smartphone has become an extra limb, an essential appendage we cannot bear to be without. We have all observed a family at a restaurant, plates of food untouched, each member bathed in the cold light of their own screen. The conversation probably is less “How was your day?” and more “Did you see this?” followed by the silent sharing of a meme or a viral video. This example is a bizarre form of communal isolation, where we are together, yet utterly alone.
There is the audial assault. Ever noticed the trend of people speaking into their phones in public, as if sharing their search queries with the world? The other day, I was in line at a store and a gentleman next to me, without a care in the world, announced to his device (and to me, and to everyone else within a 10-foot radius), “Hey Google, what time does the Coeur d’Alene library close today?”
We have lost all sense of personal space, and with it, a good chunk of our privacy. Our most mundane questions and private conversations are now public domain, shared with both our devices and those around us.
In my opinion, the problem, it seems, is not just a lack of manners; it is an addiction. A compulsive need to fill every single spare moment with digital stimulation. A few years ago, the “digital detox” was a trendy concept. Now, it feels like a necessary intervention.
We’ve replaced the quiet moments of reflection, the casual conversation with a colleague, and the simple act of people-watching with the endless scroll. Many no longer invest in their jobs, learning more about their craft, or connecting with colleagues. Instead, many are investing time and attention into an endless stream of digital noise.
Psychiatric research has concluded that extensive smartphone use can disrupt sleep, triggers urgency, and when used thru social media, may fuel comparison, inadequacy and low self-esteem. Extensive use has been linked to depression, loneliness, and anxiety.
What is the cure for this societal sickness? Perhaps it starts with a simple acknowledgment. The first step, as it is said, is admitting you have a problem. It is my opinion that we need to be more cognizant of our behavior and recognize this addiction as a genuine issue, not a harmless habit.
I believe solutions are as diverse as the devices we use. Workplaces, from corporate offices to busy retail floors adopting and enforce clear “phones off” policies. Parents need guidance on modeling healthy digital habits for their children. Policies for classrooms should limit or remove phone access. This policy could be an essential step toward guiding students to focus on real-world engagement over constant digital distraction.
The smartphone is a powerful tool, but like any tool, it is only useful when used with intention. When we let it control us, we become less human, less present, and, frankly, not very smart at all.
