Why does it feel uncomfortable to think about how much you use your phone?
As I’ve previously mentioned, I gave a talk last week at the Oxford Internet Institute about phone use, and whether or not it’s habitual (spoiler: it is). In writing that talk, I ended up thinking a little more about psychological discomfort and I thought it’d be worth fleshing those thoughts out a little more.
Mental Discomfort
One of the questions I opened my talk with yesterday was supposedly a simple one: “How many times will you check your phone tomorrow?”
I asked the question because I was hoping to cause a little discomfort - asking the question of myself certainly makes me a little uncomfortable. A little nagged. “Alright mum. God. Give me a break.”
The really interesting question is exactly why that simple question makes us feel uncomfortable.
Self-Image
Dual process theory says that there are two cognitive processes involved in thinking: System 1 is fast and automatic, while System 2 is slow and deliberate.
Am I kind? Thoughtful? Intelligent? Ultimately I’ve formed a mental image of myself and it’s wholly a system 2 production.
However, like most people, System 1 directs a lot of my behaviour and actions. My regular phone use, my late night Chess playing, my reflexive reactions to life’s many problems: these are all just as much a part of my behaviour as the system 2 reflections, but I don’t view them as part of what makes me “me”.
Why does asking about my phone habits evoke such psychological discomfort, then?
Colliding Systems
Asking questions about my phone use forces me (the system 2 me) to directly consider the behaviour of my system 1. And being forced to truly reflect on who I am, and how I spend my time, is an exercise in discomfort when there’s a gap between who I’d like to be, and who I actually am..
There are similar questions that can evoke that same dull discomfort (in different people):
- How much did you drink last night?
- How many calories did you eat last week?
- Do you often shout at your children?
- Were you always kind to your siblings?
Ultimately, these are all questions that can force us to try to objectively answer questions about behaviour that our reflective selves would rather we hadn’t/didn’t carry out.
Steering into the Discomfort
The solution, as far as I’m concerned, is that we should continue to force ourselves to answer these questions. Ignoring calories and our eating habits is no way to get on top of our weight. Feigning or achieving ignorance on drinking will not save us from alcoholism. Being defensive about our phone use is similarly self-defeating.
If you’re interested in spending less time on your phone, a key first step is being honest about both that desire, and the amount of time you currently spend on your phone.
We’re absolutely horrible at reflecting and self-reporting on behaviour that is initiated by our system 1. How many times have you seen people shocked at their calorific intake, completely unaware of just how often they were snacking? Or not able to believe just how much they’re drinking on a regular basis?
The worrying part from my perspective is the fact that ordinarily, you need to pick your room carefully if you’re going to cause mass discomfort by asking a simple question about a person’s behaviour. Asking a room of academics how many units of alcohol they drink in a week is not likely to cause widespread discomfort. Similarly with calories. And yet, when it comes to phone use, I suspect there are very few rooms that exist at the moment where I couldn’t elicit discomfort by asking people to reflect.
Conclusion
No life-changing advice or anything like that I’m afraid. Listen to my talk. Phones are becoming globally ubiquitous. People’s use of major apps is incredibly strongly habitual. None of us are very good at reporting how long we spend on our phones. The apps themselves are finely tuned to engage system 1 and bypass system 2.
Ultimately, I guess I’d say that if you’re made uncomfortable by reflecting on how much you use your phone, it’s not too late to change things. You’re not helpless. You’re just at stage 1. There’s a long journey ahead, but people have been wrestling themselves into better shape for a long time. You can do it too.