Let’s not deny it: technology is great, and these are 4 signs that you are addicted to technology. Few people can live without modern technology, from smartphones to smart TVs to laptops and more. However, there comes a point where enough is enough, and you simply need to draw the line.- On more than one occasion, you’ve been knocked off your feet by some idiot who couldn’t be bothered to look where he was going – if he had, he might have noticed that you were obviously halfway through a text and not able to pay too much attention to where you were going. (After all, predictive text is bad enough when you ARE looking.)
- You have reached the point where it seems absurd not to post a picture of your breakfast, lunch and supper to Instagram. That IS what the site is for, isn’t it?
- When Eskom has its rolling blackouts, you are less concerned with the logistics of cooking supper and having a hot shower than you are with conserving the power of your iPad, mobile phone and laptop.
- When you arrive at your friends’ house, you let them know you’re there with a WhatsApp message or Facebook / Instagram DM. Doorbells are so mainstream and for yesterday’s people.
- Family camping trips are completely out of the question. That would mean having all your gadgets die on you, or worse, having to leave them at home. Can you imagine doing that in today’s world?
When you see these signs, you know you are addicted to technology. If you are taking your smartphone to the toilet, you know you are addicted to technology.
Book Recommendation: If you are Addicted to Technology
Digital Minimalism: How to Overcome Technology Addiction by Mark Johnson
A Foundational Start on the Path to Digital Sanity:
If you found yourself reflexively answering “yes” to the diagnostic questions that open Mark Ernest Johnson’s Digital Minimalism, you’ve already taken the first, crucial step: awareness. This book serves as a compassionate field guide for that moment of recognition, offering a structured path from digital dependence to intentional use.
Johnson correctly frames our issue not as a personal failing, but as a designed dependency. The constant ping of a notification isn’t just a sound; it’s a psychological trigger, eroding our attention and fracturing our real-world connections. He wisely expands the conversation beyond just social media to encompass the entire “comforting” ecosystem of streaming services and always-listening devices that dominate modern life. This holistic view is essential—the problem is our *relationship* with technology, not any single app.
The book’s greatest strength is its actionable blueprint. Moving from theory to practice, it outlines clear principles of digital minimalism, translating a philosophical concept into daily habits. The focus on “Decluttering”—from social feeds to toxic digital relationships—is particularly potent. It’s not about ascetic deprivation but about creating intentional space, what I often call curating your digital environment with the same care you would your home. The promised seven-step plan to regain freedom provides a manageable scaffold for what can feel like an overwhelming change.
Digital Minimalism is a vital starter kit. For those drowning in digital noise, it throws a lifeline of structure and hope. It may not delve deeply into the corporate surveillance economy or advanced privacy techniques, but it successfully achieves its core mission: to help you pause, assess the cost of your connectivity, and provide the first tools to rebuild a healthier, more human-centred digital life. A recommended first read for anyone ready to stop scrolling and start living.