Science has discovered a simple way to free us from our addiction to mobile phones and social media: here's how it works
My phone has me completely absorbed. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing (brushing my teeth, watching TV, or crossing the street), I can't stop scrolling with it. When I manage to put it down, I pick it up again a few minutes later. Whenever I unlock my phone to check the weather, I end up spending half an hour on Instagram. Most of the time, I don't even realize I'm doing it.
And I'm not alone. People are spending more and more time in front of screens: most of us for a quarter of the day. Sometimes, the mere absence of the phone in my pocket causes anxiety.
Researchers say that checking your phone is like playing a slot machine. It exploits our psychological vulnerabilities, according to Maria Bridge, Chief Operating Officer of the Center for Humane Technology. We're addicted to the variable rewards in the form of dopamine that phones offer, much like addicts, she emphasizes. This constant usage has real consequences: a study conducted by a professor at the University of San Diego found that addictive phone use is associated with depression, poor sleep cycles, and a higher risk of suicide.
Our collective addiction to devices is no accident. Tech companies have designed their apps and devices to keep you hooked for as long as possible. The key to this addictive behavior is eliminating the "friction" between the user and the phone. Mark Zuckerberg said in 2011 that he wanted people to enjoy finding casual content on social networks. Over a decade later, smartphones have achieved that. You just have to take out your phone, unlock the screen, tap on the Instagram icon, where you're already logged in, and videos start playing to capture your attention. It's too easy and instantaneous, and it's seriously affecting people's mental health.
In an attempt to break my habit, I decided to reduce phone usage with a new app called One Sec. Although it's ironic to use an app to cure an addiction to apps, One Sec acts more like an intervention than a substitute. The app employs a simple trick: it asks me to breathe before opening certain apps. By forcing me to be more aware of how I use my phone, it has helped me reduce my dependency more than anything else I've tried. And I've tried many.
Dr. Anna Lembke, a psychiatrist, professor at Stanford University, and author of "Dopamine Nation," which explores the smartphone's role as a modern drug, explains that "we are hostages to these digital drugs." As our phones make our brains release dopamine, she says, the brain adapts by decreasing its own transmission of this substance to the nerves that reward us with signals like joy and pleasure.
In other words, we start depending on our phones to maintain our minds' basic dopamine levels, which compels us to keep clicking and swiping to avoid falling into a dopamine deficit.
The effects of this dopamine distortion on society are no joke. Studies have revealed that teenagers who spend 7 hours or more per day in front of screens are twice as likely to be diagnosed with depression or anxiety compared to those who use screens for just an hour a day. Similarly, adults who spend 6 hours or more in front of screens have a higher risk of depression. And even though most of us understand the downsides, we can't seem to quit. Whether it's due to an urgent email notification or the need to stay updated on social media, we always find a reason to pick up the phone and reconnect.
In recent years, as researchers have uncovered the negative effects of excessive smartphone use, the very tech companies that have facilitated this dependence—Apple, Google, Facebook, and the rest—have tried to take on the role of digital detox therapists. They have introduced tools to monitor and limit screen time, made it easier for parents to control their children's phone usage, and set limits on who can contact you during your downtime.
While these efforts are commendable, I can't help but think about the conflict of interest. Tech companies' digital well-being tools are never the default option, and when they are—like Instagram's alert that you've seen all the content in your feed—it's easy to ignore them and keep scrolling.
Moreover, studies have shown that these limits don't eliminate compulsive habits. In my experience, once the timer goes off the next day, I return to using my phone. These interventions are nothing more than patches, as the bottom line for these companies depends on keeping you hooked.
In my case, I got tired of my phone absorbing so much of my time, so in an attempt to break my addiction, I decided to use the One Sec app for two weeks. Launched two years ago, the app is simple: before allowing me to open certain apps, One Sec runs a full-screen animation (accompanied by a rhythm of subtle haptic vibrations) that guides me through a 10-second breathing exercise. When it's done, it gives me two options: I can choose "I don't want to open Twitter" if I no longer feel like checking my feed, or "Continue with Twitter."
Sandy Gould, a computer science professor at Cardiff University, has researched ways to curb our compulsive behaviors. When we perform actions on autopilot, according to Gould, we don't think much about the consequences. Most of our smartphone habits have evolved to work on autopilot.
The trick, then, is to change the use of your phone from automatic and compulsive to something more intentional. Adding an intervention forces people to think, "Why am I opening this?" which can help break our compulsive habits.
Unlike the limits set by companies, One Sec doesn't directly prohibit me from accessing Twitter but instead allows me to reflect and decide if I really want to use the app. After a couple of days with One Sec, I realized that I only opened Twitter when I had a specific purpose, like responding to a message or reading what people were tweeting about a particular news item. When I tried to use it without thinking, I felt that One Sec's exercise brought me back to consciousness.
Ian Anderson, a social psychology researcher at the University of Southern California, is not surprised that One Sec reduces app usage. "Setting limits like this helps us reassess our current habits and create better social media habits," he says.
Frederik Riedel, the app's developer, admits that his motivation was precisely to improve these limits. "I felt worse after spending 30 minutes on Instagram. So I asked myself, 'Why do I keep going back to this app, even though I don't want to, and even though I feel worse afterward?'" he explains.
In a study conducted by Riedel with the Max Planck Institute and the University of Heidelberg in 2022, it was found that among participants who used One Sec for 6 weeks, app usage decreased by 57%. I can attest to that figure: One Sec has reduced my compulsive Twitter usage by almost half. I used to open Twitter an average of 193 times a week, but now I only do it 86 times. If we assume each session lasts a couple of minutes, I've saved more than 3 hours of mindless scrolling.
One Sec already has nearly a million downloads, according to Riedel (Sensor Tower, an independent tracker, estimates around 600,000 downloads), and it employs various smart and subtle psychological mechanisms, in addition to the breathing exercise. After the 10-second pause, One Sec shows me how many times I've tried to open Twitter in the last 24 hours, and, as I've opted for the "intention selection" tool, it obliges me to specify why I want to open Twitter by choosing one of several predefined intentions, such as "Work" and "Can't sleep." The app can also send you a "Don't miss out" notification after spending a few minutes in an app.
A common flaw in similar apps is that you can get used to the tool's interventions and start skipping them automatically. One Sec overcomes this drawback by changing what it shows you before opening an app. Sometimes it's the breathing exercise, but other times it may ask you to follow a circle on a blank screen or turn on the front camera, so suddenly you see yourself.
Georgia Turner, a neuroscience researcher and doctoral student at the University of Cambridge, explains that these continually different messages from One Sec prevent people from becoming immune to the intervention over time and integrating the indication into their automatic routines. Bridge, from the Center for Humane Technology, has been using One Sec for weeks and has managed to control her impulsive email habits. She says it's the small psychological elements that make this app so powerful.
My only complaint about One Sec is that its browser extensions and Android app are too limited and lack the wide range of tools found in the iPhone alternative. The subscription price, $4 per month, is also high, but there is a free version if, like me, you only want to restrict one app.
More and more companies are trying to introduce "speed reducers" to slow down how we operate on the Internet. When Twitter added an extra step to retweet tweets with links, for example, the company claimed that 40% more users started reading them before sharing. Similarly, simple friction mechanisms like the one Twitter has implemented have proven effective in curbing the tide of misinformation on the Internet.
However, tech companies often have few incentives to make these changes, especially to the point where people stop using their apps. Bridge believes that the only way is to regulate the attention economy, which is worth a trillion dollars and "hacks our human psychology, putting profits before people."
There is some concern that additional technology may not completely curb our addictions. Although an app like One Sec can help me combat a compulsive habit, it doesn't free me from my phone. In some cases, when it prevented me from entering an app like Instagram, I switched to another one that hadn't been blocked.
In the long run, people will have to completely disconnect from their devices and not just rely on these tricks. "At some point, we'll have to separate from our devices so that our brains can rest and recover. It's not just about what we do on our phones but the amount of time we spend looking at them, holding them, almost as if they were alive, and we were their caregivers," explains psychiatrist and professor Lembke.