Here we are at the peak of an eternal technology era.

AI agents are on their way. Driverless taxis are making a debut. 4G is an old fashion. We’re heading to a seemingly great utopia.

Perhaps the greatest invention of this era is the smartphone. The small pocket device has evolved into various shapes while computerizing many aspects of our lives. But once saviors, our smart screens have become a source of modern suffering. We have been hitting the wall too many times, and it seems we had enough.

We have arrived at a hard-screen diet era.

In The ‘Enshittification’ of TikTok, Cory Doctorow shares his thesis of how platforms become useless by manipulating their audiences, each one at a time. First, they give massive attention for zero cost to newcomers; then they shift focus to their business customers; eventually, they turn against everyone to satisfy shareholders.

Search Amazon to find sponsored ads instead of what you’re looking for. Open Instagram to see what people you don’t follow are doing. Tweet an external link to be ranked as spam. Visit Facebook for a digital trip in a gigantic Times Square.

It’s a chain of deception—or perhaps the greatest scheme of the digital age. You don’t get what you search for. You don’t get connected with your friends. Your online browsing becomes aimless. Everything has become eshittified.

A similar, yet not identical trick is tied to what we used to call a cellphone.

Smartphones should have made us smarter. Or at least that’s what we thought. In the beginning, it was exciting. Suddenly heavy lifting became effortless in the palm of our hands: taking photos, exchanging emails, playing games, or turning on a flashlight.

What more could we ask for?

The rational mind has followed the linear path of progressive overload in tech for quite some time. Like in the gym, the more you work out, the heavier weights you lift to grow your muscles. But does using more technology over time yield the same results? As it appears, it only weakens our mental muscle. Pulling heavyweights of information is so exhausting that it hurts.

We indeed became dependent on our screens as our digital footprint increased. But after years of drowning in the ocean of allegedly tech advancements, there’s an emerging trend that might cross the boundaries of itself to become a positive, healthier norm.

In What’s the future of AI hardware? I wrote:

Yet sometimes it feels like things need to go back to basics. Reverse engineering culture to where it started. It seems when technology takes over, an urge to go backward appears.

As a way to improve our lives, we don’t strive to make our screens faster or smarter anymore. We want them better. And by better I don’t mean integrating fancy new features to maintain our ultra tech-savviness. I mean for a better relationship. Seeking a true purpose for our came-to-be hazardous devices.

This is what I call the Dumbification of our smart screens—and it’s gradually spreading.

The concept of Digital Minimalism isn’t new. It’s been a long time since the borders between phones and computers have blurred. The mobile phone used to be called a ‘cellphone’ simply because it allowed us to make phone calls (duh). Now we do anything we can to avoid this HCI activity. I suspect many of us have reached a point of having more Zoom calls than phone calls in our daily lives.

Phones are computers and computers are phones. We send messages, shop for groceries, or surf the web from anywhere we want. With too many artifacts serving the same purpose, it’s hard to distinguish their essence.

Abundance has made us miserable.

So what do we do? we buy a dumbphone, grey out our smartphone screens, lock ourselves out of social media, delete or even exit them completely. We make our digital life dumber.

I’ve got 98 apps installed on my iPhone, yet I’m using only 10% of them on a weekly, not to mention a daily basis. According to my unofficial survey, I may be at a decent place in the middle.

At some point this year I got sucked into Twitter so much that I decided to delete it from my iPhone. I wanted so badly to reclaim back my time, but it didn’t help much. It only made me delusional as I kept logging in through the mobile browser backdoor. Making myself a hard time entering the feed’s gate was a dumber, less convenient way to consume the endless feed, but it felt necessary.

Yet through the same Twitter, I discovered Dumbify—an app that turns the iPhone home screen into a minimalistic app launcher. Similar to how the Light Phone screen is designed, there are no colorful wallpapers or shiny icons. Only boring titles on a solid background.

The tweet's ripple effect was widely felt and beyond my internet corner. The app attracted many newcomers, reaching the top of the App Store’s productivity chart.
It seems people are into dumbifying their pricey devices for $4.99.

However, Dumbification goes far beyond a niche shortcut widget app.

Since 2014, The Light Phone has been making dumbphones from smartphone materials. Around the same time reMarkable started making a tablet solely for writing. Daylight is making an e-paper tablet. Boox is making a wide range of e-ink devices. Clearspace (ironically backed by YC) is an app that helps reduce screen time. There’s even a cool little blog about fighting screen distraction.

These ventures might still be within the realm of a trend, perhaps a rapid one. But they all help to shape a new reality where screens don’t dominate our lives. At least that's my hope.

In The Creative Act: A Way of Being, Rick Rubin ties the success of art to numerous factors. One of which I really like is the mood of the culture. A piece of art cannot succeed without suitable market conditions.

And it seems the mood right now is to run away from screens.

In April, Heineken and Bodega revealed the Boring Phone—a flip phone designed to prevent constant smartphone checks on nights out.

The 5,000-unit hipster dumbphone edition might be just a cool marketing campaign. Would it increase the sales of Heineken beers at bars? Nevertheless, I endorse such an initiative.

Unlike Eshittfication, which seems to be a one-way ticket, Dumbification doesn’t lead to a dead end. It’s rather a state where things start to shift gears but for the better. Whereas the former is an unfortunate result of mainstream corporate influence, the latter is still reserved for niche enthusiasts—whether (semi-)idealists or tech victims.

I don’t know if I’m part of a minority, but I prefer my desktop over my phone. I like to work on my computer for very defined tasks. Obviously, it’s way more easy to write and design on a laptop or external monitor. For me using the desktop is work mode.

One of my favorite writers on the internet, @Henrik Karlsson, says he doesn’t have a smartphone. Moreover, he only uses the computer at his workstation to surf the internet.

But for me, I’ve found it useful to only use the internet when I’m sitting in my study — as if I was going to the gym.
Internet: a user manual

Henrik lives on a remote island in the Baltic Sea, which probably helps. I live in a busy, tech-oriented city. I’m getting yelled at by startup jargon even at my neighborhood coffee shop. I want to sit and sip my coffee without hearing data metrics and foul language. Perhaps once I exit the big city chaos I’ll be able to reclaim more of my time and attention.

And Dumbification might be a mode of phasing out. As cliché as it may sound, it could help liberate us. Just as I like to work on my desktop, I’d like to work on my phone, but for basic needs like talking with friends and family, taking photos occasionally, or being able to respond to an email on my schedule. I certainly don’t want to juggle between multiple devices. Though, like most of us, that’s where I ended up.

I hope to see more dumb solutions for more “smart problems”. Some that would still keep me “smart”, but in a way that doesn’t completely unplug me. I’m still very much on the grid. Meanwhile, I silenced most notifications to wean myself off being overly online.

Dumbification might not win the ‘Word of the Year’ trophy. But it might be remembered as a seed of this year’s growing phenomenon.