Can’t Stop Scrolling? This Old Strategy Can Tame New Technology | Cal Newport

Imagine a thought experiment set in the 1990s. A child walks into their living room pushing a large A/V media cart. On this cart sits a television hooked up to a video game console, a pouch full of cigarettes, a stack of pornographic magazines, a radio blaring partisan political talk, and—sitting precariously on top of the pile—a telephone.

When the mother stops the child and asks what they are doing with such a chaotic, harmful collection of items, the child responds calmly: "Mom, there is a phone on here. Do you not want me to be able to talk to my friends?"

In the context of the 90s, this defense would be laughable. No parent would allow a cart of vices into a bedroom just because it also contained a communication device. Yet, this is precisely the trade-off modern parents make when handing a smartphone to an 11-year-old. We accept a device loaded with the world’s most potent distractions and dangers simply because it includes one or two utilitarian features we believe are necessary.

The solution isn’t necessarily to ban technology, but to dismantle the cart. By returning to "single-use technologies," we can provide the benefits of digital tools without the bundled toxicity of the smartphone ecosystem.

Key Takeaways

• The bundling problem: Smartphones combine useful tools (communication, maps) with harmful distractions (social media, unrestricted internet), making it nearly impossible to curate a child's experience.
• Single-use strategy: Using separate devices for separate functions allows parents to control the "when" and "how" of technology use.
• Communication without distraction: VoIP landlines and "dumbphones" provide safety and connectivity without the addictive algorithms of a smartphone.
• Offline entertainment: MP3 players and offline gaming consoles restore the joy of media while removing the risks of online interactions and streaming services.

The "Media Cart" Fallacy

The primary argument for giving children smartphones usually revolves to safety and coordination. Parents need to tell their children when baseball practice ends, or children need to call home if a bus is late. These are valid needs. However, the smartphone is a "Swiss Army knife" solution that solves these minor logistical problems by introducing major psychological ones.

When all features are pushed into one device, control becomes an illusion. In the media cart analogy, a parent in the 90s could easily say, "You can use the phone, but the TV stays in the living room, and the magazines go in the trash." Each technology was distinct, physical, and easy to curate. Today, digital convergence means that access to a phone number often implies access to everything else.

"We turn a blind eye to all of the terribleness on these devices because there's some reason—well, my kid needs to tell me when his play practice is over."

This bundling creates a path of least resistance. It is easier to buy one device for $10 a month than to set up a complex ecosystem of standalone tools. However, the long-term cost of that convenience is often the mental health and attention span of the child.

A Practical Guide to Single-Use Technologies

If we reject the smartphone, we must replace its utility. The goal is to deploy modern, single-purpose tools that fulfill specific needs—communication, music, gaming—without the "media cart" baggage.

1. Communication: The Modern Landline

For home-based communication, the solution is a return to the landline, updated for the internet age. Devices like the "Tin Can" phone utilize internet connections (VoIP) but function exactly like traditional corded phones. They plug into the wall, have no screen, and cannot send texts.

This allows children to call friends, grandparents, or 911. It facilitates long conversations without the distraction of notifications. Interestingly, reintroducing this technology highlights how much digital literacy has shifted; children today may struggle with the concept of holding a receiver to their ear or memorizing phone numbers, skills that encourage focus and patience.

The Compromise for Texting: If group chats are a social necessity, consider a "family kiosk" approach. A refurbished iPad logged into iMessage, kept permanently plugged in at the kitchen counter, allows a child to participate in social planning without taking the device into their bedroom. The lack of privacy acts as a natural filter for inappropriate behavior.

2. Mobile Safety: The Utilitarian "Dumbphone"

There are legitimate scenarios where a child needs to be reachable outside the home. The solution is a cellular phone designed purely for utility, such as the Punkt phone or similar minimalist devices. These phones operate on 4G networks but feature button-based interfaces and no web browsers.

The user experience on these devices is intentionally frictionless only for calling. Texting often requires T9 input (pressing number keys multiple times for a letter), which is tedious enough to discourage endless chatting. These devices should be treated like tools, not personal possessions. They are "checked out" from a drawer for specific events—like a sports clinic or a trip—and returned immediately upon coming home.

3. Entertainment: The Offline Music Player

Streaming services like Spotify are fantastic for selection but terrible for focus. They often require smartphone synchronization or introduce the temptation to browse. To foster a love for music without the screen time, consider high-fidelity MP3 players (DAPs) that do not connect to the internet.

This approach revives the "iPod model" of music consumption:

• Curation: Children or parents must actively select and load music onto an SD card.
• Ownership: Using CD drives to rip MP3s or purchasing DRM-free tracks teaches the value of albums over algorithmic playlists.
• Focus: The device does one thing—plays music. There are no interruptions from texts or app notifications.

4. Gaming: The Offline Console

Video games are not inherently bad, but online gaming introduces interaction with strangers, predatory microtransactions, and infinite play loops. The single-use solution is a console like the Nintendo Switch, used exclusively with physical cartridges and without an internet connection.

This setup mimics the console era of the 1990s. The console lives in a public space or is checked out for travel. Multiplayer is restricted to "couch co-op" (playing with friends in the same room) rather than digital lobbies. By physically separating the gaming device from the internet, parents can enforce boundaries—such as "no gaming until the weekend"—without fighting software locks or parental control apps that kids often bypass.

Why This Matters for Adults

While this strategy is critical for developing brains, the philosophy holds equal weight for adults. We often justify our own digital addiction with the same "media cart" logic. We might doom-scroll social media for hours simply because we unlocked our phone to check the weather.

"Convenience is not necessarily the most important thing, especially when you're talking about your own entertainment or distraction."

Adults can also adopt single-use devices. Using a standalone camera, an MP3 player for running, or a dumbphone for weekend outings can help break the reflex to constantly check a smartphone. By adding friction to our digital lives, we regain autonomy over our attention.

Conclusion

The transition to single-use technology requires more effort than simply handing over a smartphone. It involves buying distinct hardware, ripping CDs, managing cables, and explaining to other parents why your child doesn't have an iPhone. However, this friction is a feature, not a bug.

By curating the technologies we allow into our homes, we prevent the "media cart" from rolling into the bedroom unchecked. We grant our children the tools they need to function in the modern world while protecting them from the engineered distractions designed to exploit them.