How switching to a flip phone deepened my friendships

On April Fools’ Day, I called my mom. I told her that for a month, I was “going flip phone” — meaning, abandoning my iPhone for one with no access to social media apps. And no, it wasn’t a joke.

My discontent with my screen time reached new peaks in late March after a stint in physical therapy and a string of near-constant rainy days.

But first, some context: I stare at screens all day for a living, and I’m no stranger to life affixed to a computer, palm-sized or not. I grew up in the 2000s, playing Neopets and the Sims 2. I later inherited my mom’s busted iPhone 3GS in 2011 as an eighth-grader, and said goodbye to my LG Lotus flip phone. I’ve been on Instagram since within a year of its launch.

For more than a decade, I lived by the idea of “good screen” and “bad screen.” That is, bad screen is work/school-related, and good screen is just for the vibes, like spending an hour or so in a Wikipedia rabbit hole. Good screen felt like a reclamation of my own time.

Until it didn’t.

Turns out, good screen is actually a farce. We didn’t know it at the time in the 2010s, but increased use of smartphones and social media was probably bad for my then-developing brain. According to an October 2024 CDC report, the percentage of teenagers who had symptoms of anxiety or depression was higher among those with four hours or more of daily screen time.

For me, the decision came about because I realized that my phone was getting in the way of doing literally anything else. Like going to a coffee shop with a friend. Or playing evening soccer and getting a drink after. Or hosting dinner parties. If there’s one thing I’ve learned while working here alongside Even Better’s Allie Volpe, the key to a good life is to get some sun early in the day, do regular movement, and socialize often.

So “dumbphone” it was.

The rules, my boss said, were simple. I had a $100 budget. (Him: “I mean, it goddamn better be under $100. It won’t do anything.”) And I had to go the whole way. That meant I couldn’t switch back and forth between phones. The only exception was using my iPhone for two-factor authentication apps.

“I wonder if you’ll have any friends left over by the end,” my boss, editorial director Bryan Walsh, slacked me. “Or maybe more because you’ll call them up on your telephone. Maybe you’ll get new friends, better ones.”

The strict budget ruled out fancy but still internet-free dumbphones like the Light Phone my colleague Adam Clark Estes tried out last month. So I first turned to older flip phones.

My partner’s parents had an old Motorola Razr chilling in a drawer, and I had always wanted one when I was a kid (or a T-Mobile Sidekick or LG Chocolate). But after hours of trying to figure out if the phone was compatible with my carrier, I learned that the infrastructure in the US for 2G connection was shut down this year. I couldn’t use anything that wasn’t at least 4G. I effectively had to get a new phone.

Naturally, I stalked the internet’s best resource for financial decision-making: Reddit. I checked out tons of posts on r/dumbphones, and finally decided to go for the (at the time) $90 HMD Barbie Phone. It had maps, texts, and a camera — but no app store. It technically does have internet, but it is so impossible to use that it might as well not be there.

When my friends heard about my little experiment, they were worried, thrilled, partially envious, and wondering how on earth we would plan our Formula 1 race weekend watch parties.

I didn’t set any intentional goal of how often to reach out to people or make plans. But in the absence of mindlessly scrolling on Instagram or TikTok, I was motivated to reach out to people.

Still, my texts were very stilted because of the numeric keypad. Some of my friends were annoyed about this within a week. One texted me to ask about my thoughts on tariffs, and I replied, “Hmm hard 2 say.” A few hours later, she texted me with some personal news that warranted a swift phone call. “I can feel yourself restraining your thoughts in your texts! But it’s nice to just hear your voice right now,” she said in that call.

This friend lives in a different city, so I don’t get to see her as often. But because we weren’t seeing what the other was up to on Instagram, we called each other a lot more often than we usually would have.

Speaking of Instagram…what a double-edged sword! It’s either a black hole of endless, pointless scrolling or it’s how you find out about the latest party, book release event, or restaurant opening. I definitely missed out on a lot of potential hangs by not being on IG, but at the same time, would I have actually spontaneously gone to any of them? I’m not so sure.

I did cheat a bit by opting to text friends via my personal computer whenever I had the chance to. This also let me participate in some group chats since the Barbie phone doesn’t have that capability.

And I called my mom way more. That’s saying something because I talk to both of my parents essentially every other day with my normal phone. I flew to see my dad in Tennessee and visited my partner’s parents in Westchester for Easter. I even planned an intergenerational return with my grandparents to Puerto Rico for May.

All in all, I about doubled the number of in-person hangs, although my memory is a bit fuzzy. I’m someone who lives and dies by my Google Calendar, and I wasn’t great at version control between my physical planner and the g-cal. And I don’t have many photo reminders of what I did.

However, I did not last an entire month.

I fell two days short, thanks to that sporadic trip to Puerto Rico. I had to order Ubers, consult spreadsheets, figure out access codes, find restaurants that everyone actually wanted to eat at, and keep in touch with people we were hanging out with. If you’re a caretaker or if your work demands that you be online 24/7, I’m not sure if a smartphone detox is right for you.

And honestly, there were some things I missed from my regular iPhone. Having no music during runs made me dread jogging, so I didn’t run for an entire month. I couldn’t scan QR code menus at restaurants. If I didn’t have directions written down somewhere, I was constantly anxious about getting lost since Google Maps on the Barbie phone wasn’t all that. I also took fewer photos. (Sorry, Bad Bunny, I know I should take more.)

Still, my life felt more full because of the burst of spontaneity encouraging deeper connections with my friends and family. My attention span also no longer seemed like it’s the size of a small pea. And while I didn’t start this experiment out of concern for my mental health, it did help me feel more socially connected, something that puts people at less risk for depression.

I’m now much more deliberate in valuing off-the-cuff hangs. Just last week, I went to a bar to watch the Knicks game, and called a friend who I haven’t seen in a few months. And yes, it was on the Barbie phone.

A version of this story originally appeared in the Future Perfect newsletter. Sign up here!