Six months ago, I found myself sitting in a coffee shop, supposedly working on an article, but instead I was switching between seven different apps, responding to notifications, and feeling my chest tighten with each ping. My heart was racing, my breathing was shallow, and I realized I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone more than five minutes without checking my phone. That's when it hit me: the device that was supposed to make my life easier had become my biggest source of stress.
But during a week I was particularly scattered and finding it difficult to concentrate, I shared with my then-therapist how it felt like workdays kept slipping through my fingers. When she asked what I was using to time myself, I came to an embarrassing realization. Of course, using my phone to stay focused was always going to prove counterproductive. She smiled and gave me a simple suggestion, "Try a kitchen timer instead."
As our attention spans and cognitive abilities are increasingly damaged by digital overuse and AI-mediated shortcuts, the ability to focus deeply and learn something in depth is quickly becoming a critical skill. Never have we had such broad access to information. And never have so many people felt unable to concentrate long enough to truly master anything. Learning is everywhere, yet depth feels elusive.
It makes sense, right? Every day, we're told how shitty our attention spans are because of our phones. We can't get through 90-minute movies anymore without a quick scroll. We can't just sit down and read a book off our shelf. We have decision fatigue trying to pick a recipe to cook instead of just looking in a cookbook. So turning to more analog things for the betterment of our bodies and minds makes total sense.
But holding a photograph feels different. In recent years, Polaroid has leveraged the intrinsic value of collecting personal artifacts and tapped into the population's growing primordial desire to reflect fondly on what once was. The Polaroid Flip Instant Camera proposes a deliberate unbundling from the phone as a direct invitation to slow down and choose moments rather than hoard them. It's instant photography tempered by intentional, meaningful production.
The bag is the source of all her entertainment: Loaded with portable activities like crossword puzzles, knitting needles, and watercolor paints, it's a deliberately screen-free way for Campbell to spend her in-between moments. The 31-year-old has dubbed this her "analog bag," and considers it a key weapon in her constant battle against doomscrolling and brain rot.
When we slow down enough to truly notice, everyday life reveals quiet moments of wonder. A child's gleeful laughter, the rhythm of a shared meal, or the gleam of sunlight on a playground fountain-these are the small, unfiltered joys of being alive. But in this technological age, these moments are often interrupted. We reach instinctively for our phones, eager to capture or share rather than simply feel.
More and more people are ditching their iPhones and Samsungs for so-called "dumbphones" or "feature phones". Once mocked as relics of the early 2000s, these devices are enjoying a quiet comeback. From teenagers wanting fewer distractions to parents worried about screen addiction, the UK is seeing a small but significant trend that surprises tech companies. And while Brits simplify their devices, they still find ways to enjoy modern pleasures-from streaming to new casinos
A designer's concept for the iPod Nano Ultra imagines a collision of rugged adventure with a compact music player, providing focused functionality without distractions.