From Buffalo, New York. Dad of two kids. I switched to a dumbphone in 2022 to try and live a slower life. I write down what worked and what didn't.
The first one
Jobs holding the iPhone, Jan '07
I don't know how many times I rewatched Steve Jobs unveil the iPhone in January 2007. I
couldn't wait. I was on my parents' family plan at the time, and I went off on my own to
Cingular, which was the only carrier that had it, just to get one. There was no App Store yet.
There were no apps in the sense anyone means now. What there was, was Mobile Safari, the whole
internet in your pocket and a screen you could pinch, and that was my way in. I never looked
back, and for about fifteen years I never wanted to.
I say this so you know I'm not writing from the "outside." I loved that phone. I loved most of
the ones after it. Nothing here comes from someone who never "got it."
The in-between generation
me with the original iPhone, being a loser
I'm in my late thirties, as of writing this. As a millennial, we landed at an odd spot in the
timeline. I went through high school with a basic flip phone, dial-up at home, and the social
internet was mostly a buddy list, then later MySpace. Then the connected world arrived while
we were coming of age, and we grew up with it in real time. Our parents were already adults
with formed habits when the smartphone showed up. The kids after us have never known a world
without smartphones, DLC, and social media streaks. We remember both sides clearly, which
makes us a kind of control group, and it means the question "what was it like before" has an
answer we can give.
The answer, for what it's worth, is that before was slower and I was bored: I read more and I
was more often exactly where I was. That's roughly what this site is about.
Why I switched
My son was born in 2020 and my daughter later in 2022, and somewhere in there I noticed that I
was checking messages, Slack and email constantly, and that a lot of the moments I thought I
was capturing I wasn't in. I was taking photos of my kids more than I was looking at them.
Blink-and-you'll-miss-them moments were going by on the other side of a screen.
exploring new hobbies
So I bought a Light Phone II. It was one of the better decisions I've made. The first weeks
were strange, of course: long runs with no music, waiting rooms with nothing to look at. Thank
god for National Geographic. Then it got good. I picked up 35mm film photography. I read more
and wrote more. The runs without headphones turned into something like meditation.
What a phone is
This took me longest to see. A smartphone is essentially fifteen "things" glued together and
sold as one. That's the trick. You pull it out to check the time, the weather and the other
fourteen things come with it: the inbox, the news, the feed, a game, the store. You can't use
one without being offered all of them. Every check is a lobby with fifteen doors.
Downgrading is un-gluing. You give each job back to a thing that does only that job.
Specialization, single use devices. Some of those things cost twenty dollars and some you
already own. A few you'll find you don't need at all.
The cameraA 35mm point-and-shoot, one roll a month
The mapDirections copied down before I leave
The WalkmanRecords at home, nothing on the run
The alarm clockA ten-dollar clock by the bed
The calendarA paper planner, and the computer
The newspaperThe weekend paper, on the step
The mailboxEmail at a desk, twice a day
The flashlightOne on the keys, one in the car
The calculatorThe dumbphone has one
The walletCards, in a wallet
The notebookA pocket notebook and a pen
The watchA watch
The jukeboxAn album, start to finish
The Game BoyA secondhand one, and Snake in a pinch
The libraryA library card, in person
The phoneStill the phone. That part it kept.
an old EDC: Boox Palma, Punkt MP02, iPod, automatic watch, Contax T2 camera (a little
pretentious, I know)
The parts that are hard
Anyone who tells you this is painless is probably selling a phone, or maybe has a YouTube
channel. Some things are harder on a small phone, and a few are close to impossible because
the world has decided everyone has to have a smartphone. I'd rather you know them going in.
This is my list, and what I do about each.
Two-factor codes
Some logins want an app on a smartphone. Text codes work on any phone, a hardware key like a Yubikey works on a computer, and a few dumbphones have a browser that can get through. The one that only takes an app is the reason a lot of us have to keep a backup smartphone.
Banks and payments
A few banks are app-only now. Check yours before you switch, and if it fails the test, that's honestly a reason to switch banks as much as a reason to keep the phone.
Tickets, parking, chargers
Concert tickets that only exist in an app, parking meters that want you to scan something, restaurant menus behind a QR code. This is the part that's genuinely getting worse, and calling the venue to ask for the alternative is the only fix I know.
The group chat
WhatsApp needs a smartphone to verify itself every so often. iMessage and most of the rest work from a computer. The group chat that feels "urgent" usually isn't, but the one that plans the kids' carpool sort of is. Otherwise, it's like back in the day and logging into instant messenger on your computer. A bit fun.
A city you don't know
At home I don't miss the map (for the most part). In a new city I write directions down, read signs, and ask people, and I get a bit lost and find it more interesting than I expected. On a work trip with a tight schedule, I take an iPhone.
Rides and travel
Ride-share is the one I miss the most. A taxi stand still exists at most airports. Boarding passes print. A cellular watch can carry a boarding pass and call a car, which is why it's in the database.
Which brings me to the confession most of us make eventually: I still use a smartphone. Right
now my daily setup is the dumb.co Dumbphone 2 paired with an iPhone Air that sometimes stays
home or in a bag for the things above that still need an app. I went years with a dumbphone
only, but over time it became less practical, personally. If you can live without one, you'll
find the whole thing easier. If you can't, put it somewhere inconvenient and make it an old,
slow one.
Why willpower loses
I tried the moderate route first. Screen time limits, gray screens, deleting apps. I lost
every round, and I've come to think that's the expected result while trying to live "slower."
The thing in your pocket was built by very good engineers to be picked up, and you are not
going to out-discipline a budget in the billions. The
alternatives page exists because those steps help, and I'd try
them first. But a smaller phone is a different kind of move: one decision instead of a
thousand small ones a day, and it stops the argument you keep having with yourself.
If you've set rules and broken them, that's the product working as designed. The research page has what the studies say, caveats and all.
What I do with the time
directions, doodles, notes in a notebook
People ask what I do with the time, as if the point were to fill it. A lot of it I try my best
to fill with nothing. I sit outside. I go for a walk, phoneless, and think about what to cook
for dinner and how I'm going to cook it. I do read more and I do take better photos, and the
things to do page
is a list of what I tried. Treat it as options. The hours you get back don't owe anyone
anything. The change I notice is that I'm present for more of my own life, including the
boring parts, and the boring parts turn out to be where the good ideas were hiding.
Since then
A few years and a lot of phones later, I've used much of what's in the database at one time or
another. These are the ones I've lived with for more than a month.
Two movements shaped how I think about this. The Slow movement, which grew out of Carlo
Petrini's 1986 protest against a McDonald's opening at the Spanish Steps in Rome, argues for
doing fewer things at a pace where you can taste them. It's where this club takes its name.
Essentialism, Greg McKeown's name for the disciplined pursuit of less, argues for cutting the
trivial many to make room for the vital few. A dumbphone is a small, physical way to practice
both. It forces you to decide what you need from the thing in your pocket.
Privacy is part of it too. A phone that can't run apps collects a great deal less about you,
and that's a quieter kind of freedom that I've come to value more each year. It's also why
this site runs no trackers and why signing in, if you ever want to rate a phone, is a code
sent to your email and nothing else.
How I keep the data honest
Every phone in the database has a list of sources and a last-checked date. Where I couldn't
confirm a spec from the manufacturer, the field says unknown. Prices drift, and I fix them
when I notice or someone reports them. Nothing here is sponsored: no maker has paid to be in
the database, to be left out of it, or to have an endorsement made. I am in three affiliate
programs: Light's, Amazon Associates, and Bookshop.org's, on the reading list. Each of those
links is labeled where it appears, buying through one costs you nothing extra, and none of
them has any bearing on what an entry says or on the fact that phones and books I think are
better sit next to the ones that pay. If you spot an error, or you make a phone that should be
listed, email me at
hello@slowerliving.club, or use the suggestion form at the bottom of
the database.
Questions I get
Q.
So are you a "luddite?"
The Luddites were English textile workers who broke the new knitting frames around 1811. They understood the machines fine. The argument was about who the machines were for, and what happened to the people already doing the work. Two centuries later the word gets thrown at anyone who cannot set up a printer.
If the older meaning is on offer, I'll gladly take it. Ask what a piece of technology costs you, ask who collects the benefit, then decide. Often the answer is yes. I built this site, and there's a computer in the next room I'd be lost without. What I stopped doing is taking the whole bundle because it arrived in one box.
Q.
Doesn't that make you hard to reach?
Less than you'd expect. The phone rings and texts get received, which covers most of what reaching someone means. Email waits for me to be in front of my laptop, so a reply takes hours instead of seconds. I told the people who needed to know, and nobody has cared since.
In an emergency I'm easier to get hold of than I used to be, because the phone is boring enough that I notice when it goes off. The real gap is a group chat that lives only inside an app. Sort that one out before you switch, especially if via iMessage or WhatsApp.
Q.
Do I need a dumbphone to be here?
No, and most people shouldn't start there. The alternatives page is nine changes to the phone already in your pocket, all of them free, and for a lot of people that is the whole fix. A smaller phone is the move for anyone who has tried that and keeps losing.
If you want to test it, a $20 keypad phone on a second line for a weekend tells you most of what you need to know, and you're out twenty dollars if the answer turns out to be no.
Partly, yeah, and it's worth saying. A lot of work now arrives through an app: shifts, dispatch, deliveries, the portal a landlord posts to. If your income runs through one, the choice isn't on the table, and nothing I write about attention changes that. It also helps that someone else in my house can hold the app the school posts to, which is a kind of help not everyone has.
The cheap end of this is cheap, though. A keypad phone runs $20 to $60, secondhand ones go for less, and every step on the alternatives page costs nothing. The expensive version is a $600 e-ink phone, and nobody NEEDS to get that.
Q.
Is this site affiliated with a phone maker, a store or another club?
No, none of them. It's one person in Buffalo with a spreadsheet. Nobody who makes or sells a phone has a say in what the database says about them, and the affiliate links are labeled where they appear.
The clubs are independent of each other too. This site spent its first week calling itself a Luddite Club, then I counted how many clubs already answer to that name and picked a new one. The Brooklyn teens the papers wrote about are their own thing entirely. Start one where you live and it's yours.