Is it time to tackle your phone obsession? – Part 1

The first of a two-part article on supporting adults to have healthy relationships with their devices and use of social media, from Andrew Cowley.

“Just get off your phone!” I heard my wife say.

Last summer we took the short walk from Green Park station to the Royal Academy, a walk of no more than 500 metres. In less than five minutes, almost every person we passed was on their phone – on calls, texting, emailing, playing games or on social media. My wife’s comment came after the fifth person glued to their phone had bumped into her or got in her way. Many of the people we passed had no awareness of what was going on around them – of other people or of the traffic on the roads they crossed.

We have rightly heard much about mobile phones in schools, whether to ban, restrict or confiscate. In truth though, every school needs to consider context and the way young people are using them before determining their rules and the education around safe use of devices. However, in order for our children to be using their phones responsibly, it is the adults who need to set the example – and, in many cases, education starts with those who should (but don’t) use their devices appropriately.

The crux of my argument is that adults are obsessed with their phones and that both individual and collective wellbeing is impacted as a result.

Do we use our phones too much?

A few examples to consider, from my personal observations:

• As soon as they leave their front door, I see adults pull a phone from a bag or pocket. Can that call not wait? If you are checking the bus app, can’t you do that indoors?
• On a recent trip into London, whilst taking the escalator to surface level, every other person walking in the opposite direction was on a device. And at road level, the first twenty people I passed were on calls or texting.
• In the summer of 2022, at Elton John’s Hyde Park concert, there were many groups of people taking selfies to post on their socials paying little (if any) attention to the performance.

Having a phone out in public is a risk – it may be dropped and damaged, or snatched from the hand, often by a miscreant on an electric bike or scooter. If used with headphones or earbuds, there is even less awareness of individual safety, particularly when crossing roads. I have lost count of the number of times I have seen people slow down or walk with their head down over a screen (even on a quiet pavement), tripping on a tree root, bumping into passers-by or straight into an opening car door.

The risk to individual health and safety is just one side of the adult use of phones. The other is the level of self-obsession, of ego-boosting, that phones and their social media apps have encouraged.

Do we control our phones, or do our phones control us?

What are we modelling to children?

If as adults, we want to see our children use phones less, then we need to use them less. Children internalise the values they observe, so if they see adults using phones at mealtimes, they will do likewise.

If a screen is used as a reward (as a means of keeping a child occupied) or is taken away as a punishment, we don’t set the right agenda.

If phones are used obsessively in the presence of children, we send the message that this is acceptable behaviour, when in many cases the behaviour online is nowhere near acceptable.

It takes only a moment of overreaction, anger or misunderstanding for the phone to be used in cyberbullying, stalking or humiliation. Where adults do this, it becomes the model for children.

The dangers of obsession

Some adults are so obsessed with their social media that they will sleep with their phone by their side, rather than charge it elsewhere. The notion of “What are they saying about me?” or “What are they saying about this thing that I dislike?” can lead the terminally online to be engaged in discussion at times they should be asleep. Even allowing for a reasonable sleep, there are plenty of adults who check their phone as they wake, at a time when the rest of us might be in the bathroom or putting the kettle on.

False reality

One danger of such an obsession is the creation of a false reality – ‘Instagram versus Reality’ as it is sometimes known. There are individuals and couples who post images of their happy, bohemian and progressive lives and relationships who, in reality, are living in abject misery, arguing amongst themselves and not enjoying the bountiful friendships they project to the world. This ‘reality’ doesn’t actually exist.

For some, social media allows users to be antagonistic, controversial or contrarian. In many ways, it allows those people to think they are relevant or significant within the narrow confines of social media, a significance that they may not have in the real world. For the real obsessives, they can repeat an untruth often enough for it to become their truth; this becomes dangerous when it is believed as a truth by others, giving the relevance that the original poster might crave.

There have been two recent examples of the repetition of an untruth, or in some cases an outright lie, being someone else’s false reality.

• The tragic death of Nicola Bulley in early 2023. The disappearance of Ms Bulley in unexpected circumstances unleashed a torrent of conspiracy theories regarding herself, her husband or her best friend. TikTok in particular had users visiting the site of her disappearance to record video posts. The delay in finding a body only fuelled the misinformation.
• The disappearance of Jay Slater in Tenerife in summer 2024. Seizing upon events from Slater’s past and on rumours of the supposed activities of his peer group on the island, social media was so rife with misleading and inaccurate reports that the local police actually announced they were ceasing their operation. They continued to search without publicity, having been able to rein in some of the more outrageous suggestions.

In each of these cases, the social media posts were more about drawing attention to the poster, to make themselves feel relevant and significant. This distracted attention away from two grieving families facing heartbreak at a time of great uncertainty.