Tag: Smartphones

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Family Productivity Relationships Smartphones Social Media Technology Wellness

Instead of Screen Shame, Let’s Talk Screen Sense

“And every person there had their face stuck in a screen!” The last word always rings with a special condemnation.

Photo Credit: rawpixel.com

“… and all she did was stare at her phone the whole time!”

The vitriol can get pretty heated in some quarters, coming in dark looks and blasts of righteous fury that our grandparents’ media never received.

You’ve heard similar comments. Reading between the lines, they suggest that screen time is wasted time, that to use one’s phone is to be obsessed with nonsense or to be hopelessly oblivious to the real world. As people look into their black mirrors—be it a mobile device, tablet, laptop, or television — they’re trading down.

Don’t Misunderstand

Now don’t mishear me or assume you know where I’m going here. This piece is not an unqualified green light for screens at the expense of all human interaction and relationship.

I believe it’s critically important to be fully present and invested in the lives of the human beings around us. There are times to put phones away, and sensible boundaries must be drawn to protect relationships. My family observes device-free dinners, and I don’t take my phone into the bedroom at night. I’ve been known to leave my phone at home when headed out for a family time or date night.

We’re doing the next generation a great disservice if we model an always on, always connected, screens-over-people lifestyle.

The Digital World IS the World

That said, the fact is that the digital world has become our world. Our relationship with screens is not some passing fad — it’s here to stay. Those of us that rely on devices for work may interact intermittently with screens throughout most or all of our waking days. And as we move forward, screen time will only continue to grow in ways that we cannot fully imagine or understand today.

Some of the apps that I spend the most time on each day, like Google Drive and Docs, are only a dozen years old. Where will we be in another dozen years? None of us can predict with certainty. What we do know with certainty is that digital technology and the infrastructure that supports it keeps improving. Your next phone will likely live on a 5G network, for example.

But wait — I’m not done.

Not Acceptance by Inevitability

The point here is not to simply throw our hands in the air and accept the onslaught of screens saying “See, we had no choice!” This is not a message of resigned acceptance by inevitability.

The deeper point to be made here is that screen time is more complex, more nuanced than we would like it to be.

By nature, we gravitate toward simple explanations of life. That’s why black and white dichotomies are so popular.

Here’s one you’ve heard: book time = good, screen time = bad.

Put under closer scrutiny, that rule just doesn’t hold any water. Reading a book can be a wonderful, intellectually stimulating act. Yet it can also be socially isolating and strictly consumptive. Depending on the content (as online), the effect can also be as morally corrupting or mind-numbing as any other medium (think Mein Kampf).

Is reading a book time well spent? As it turns out, the answer depends on context and content.

Screen Complexity

And so it is with screen time. It comes in many shades and varieties of value and virtue. Creation is different than consumption, interaction is different than isolation, and function is different than addiction. But all can happen on screens.

In any given day, I use screens to journal, set goals, check calendar events, read scripture, evaluate student work, plan lessons, write articles, edit audio recordings, publish podcasts, engage with other educators, message family and friends, read and write emails, manage shopping lists, order coffee, book reservations, record great quotes, take and share notes, listen to podcasts, manage finances, track my fitness, FaceTime my parents, follow the news, record photos and video, enjoy movies with my family, read books, and on and on I could go.

I’ve got to be real with you here. Even as I browsed my devices to compile that list, I had to fight the screen guilt. Which is kind of funny, but not.

Because when I scan that list of activities — far from an inclusive list, mind you — there’s nothing there that I would change. There’s nothing on that list that’s addictive, destructive, or damaging. It’s just what my life looks like in 2018. In fact, many of those activities actually facilitate some of my life’s most meaningful moments, achievements, and relationships.

Screen time conversations are never easy. As spouses, parents, friends, educators, and leaders, we must make thoughtful decisions around technology — for ourselves and often for others — on a daily basis.

Screen Guilt is Not the Solution

Whatever choices we make, living in a constantly conflicted state of guilt about screen time cannot be the solution. Instead, it’s about using screens strategically: creating more than consuming, connecting more than isolating, educating more than entertaining. It’s about deploying technology to strengthen our communities instead of weakening them, and building relationships instead of destroying.

It’s about living with screens judiciously. Transparently. Unapologetically.

Because it’s not about screen shame. It’s about screen sense.

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Business Communication Entrepreneurship Productivity Smartphones Social Media Technology Twitter

5 Reasons to Niche Down on Twitter

Why multiple Twitter accounts will actually simplify your life and improve your focus.

Photo credit: rawpixel on Unsplash

You like Twitter, but you’re using one account for news, politics, sports, humor, inspiration, and work. You can do better — a lot better. To fully optimize your Twitter experience, you need to create niche accounts. Confused or unconvinced? Here’s the what, how, and why.

What I Mean

What I’m recommending is that you create multiple Twitter accounts — preferably one for every major domain in your personal and professional life. Start with two or three and then consider adding from there. Here’s why.

5 Reasons Why You Need to Niche Down on Twitter

It lets you stay in one headspace at a time.

I’m a teacher. When I want to look for education inspiration, I open my teacher Twitter account. I don’t want to see sports headlines or the latest comments from Donald Trump. I want to read education gold that will continue to inspire and transform my practice. By only following committed educators in this account, I set parameters for the content I see in my feed.

You’ll tweet to an audience who cares.

My sports fan network doesn’t care about the latest big ideas from my teachers’ conference, and my education network doesn’t want to hear about how my favorite team is doing in their big game. Misdirected tweets will only irritate your audience and cost you followers. Instead, add value to your network by tweeting the right content to the right audience.

It supports intentionality on social media. 

I have a handful of accounts at the moment, but I’m only checking a few on a regular basis. Other accounts are for occasional amusement and take up little of my attention. Since my Twitter time is limited throughout the day, I want to be able to make thoughtful and discriminatory choices about which content I’m consuming and where I’m engaging.

It facilitates professional networking. 

I use my professional and podcasting Twitter accounts to reach out to other educators via direct message. That works very well when I use niche professional accounts that make it very clear who I am and what I’m all about. I suspect that wouldn’t work as well coming from my sporting account.

It’s convenient. 

Despite what you might expect, it’s not much of a hassle to flip back and forth between accounts. The Twitter app makes it quick and easy, so don’t let the hassle factor discourage you.

Nothing but Wins

It’s been a few years since I split my Twitter presence, and I absolutely love it for all the reasons listed here. My content, engagement, and feeds have never been richer or more focused.

If you’re looking to get more out of Twitter, it might be time to niche down.

Categories
Communication Smartphones Technology

Living in the Moment with my Phone

Smartphones are amazing. And alarming. They allow us to do so much, yet limit how much we can do. Since the appearance of the first iPhone in 2007, we’ve experienced a cultural shift the size and speed of which rivals anything in recorded history.

In the space of a few years, these shiny little computers have become ubiquitous across the culture. As recently as the year 2000 they were nonexistent. In 2010 they were a novelty. By 2020 there will be virtually no productive adults in society without one.

Of course this current state of being has been oft-repeated and much discussed over the last decade. It’s a conversation not about to go away any time soon. I won’t belabour the point by listing the endless conveniences offered or distractions created by these devices. You’ve heard it all before.

With this massive cultural shift comes questions around norms. How do phones change the rules of social behaviour? It seems every other person has strong opinions in this area. You’ve heard many of them: no phones at the dinner table, don’t acknowledge your phone in the middle of a face-to-face conversation, don’t break up by text message. These three particular examples enjoy broad social consensus because they appear to place higher value on actual human interactions over virtual ones. A good thing, to be sure.

I guess the suggested norms that I’m most resistant to argue that the mere presence of a phone is enough to degrade so-called “real life” experiences. You’ve heard these suggestions, too: writing with a pen on paper is more intimate than typing on a device, reading paper versions of religious texts is more meaningful than reading those same texts on a screen, walking on a beach at sunset is more wonderful without the option of snapping a picture.

In the age of organic, phones are GMO.

This is the religious orthodoxy of what I will call the school of real-life purism. These self-appointed defenders of real life are often – although not always – Luddite in their attitudes to technology in general. Nature good, technology bad. Pen good, keyboard bad. Conversations good, FaceTime bad. And so on. These critics feign a sort of low-key, casual ignorance around technology, but press them enough and you’ll unearth a strongly held distaste for devices of any kind.

For the most orthodox of the screen-free variety, it boils down to this: technology is stealing away our very lives. It’s tearing at the fabric of our human existence. In somber tones they lament the day when missing an exit on a freeway in a strange place might cost a stop at a gas station to ask for directions. Look what Google Maps has cost us in human interactions, they protest. They’ll shake their heads at all the transit passengers with music in their ears, mourning all those lost conversations between strangers. They’ll decry the death of the newspaper, assuming that journalism is disappearing instead of evolving.

Some of these arguments have a small seed of validity, just enough of a semblance of truth to make us feel guilty about our use of devices. But it’s easy to romanticize and overstate the qualities of life before smartphones. I remember well the transit norms of yesteryear, and they didn’t include an expectation to strike up conversations with strangers on the bus. No, Grandpa didn’t start the day with his head buried in a screen. But he sure liked his morning newspaper. Contrary to what you might think, recent studies show that modern dads spend more quality one-on-one interaction time with their children than the dads of 50 years ago. It seems technology hasn’t destroyed us just yet.

One of my favourite points of contention with the most orthodox of these real life purists is their supposition that to be fully present in a moment demands the phone be put away. (Thankfully my wife isn’t one of them.) I love photography. I enjoy the thrill of the capture. And I like seeing the captures of others. And so when I’m on a paddleboard at sunset, when I’m biking the seawall, or when I’m hiking a mountain, you’d better believe I’ll have my phone with me.

Does that mean I’m somehow less present in the experience? I think not. In fact, I like to argue that my loves of photography and Instagram makes me more observant, more curious, more easily delighted by the small details of everyday life.

My personal rationale is simple: I use technology to amplify experiences. I use technology to document them. To comment on them. To organize them, share them, and recall them conveniently. Ask a no-device purist what they did in March of 2012 or August of 2014. If they’re human, that mental recall might be tricky. But without checking to be sure, I know my chain of daily photos will tell me exactly where I was, what I was doing, and what was interesting during those months. My digital footprint is recording the story of my life.

No, I’m not advocating for a mindless embrace of all things digital and shiny. Clearly we need to defend human relationships where they are threatened by digital activities. We need to discriminate in terms of our application of screens. We need to be mindful of how our devices shape our time and money expenditures. We need to focus on applying technology in ways that solve problems, create beauty, and build relationships.

But let’s not make the false distinction between technology and so-called “real life.” Let’s not treat technology as more powerful than the medium that it is. The humans are still in charge, and it’s still entirely possible to be fully present, to fully experience relationships, to remain fully alive in the Digital Age.