A few months ago, I downloaded an eight-ball simulator to my iPad in search of a way to relax on a Friday night. The game was fun, at first. Although it made the usual pitches for buying “gems” and “coins” for power-ups, the designers had made it possible to play without having to spend money. But they also built in all the techniques such games use to keep you playing. Over the next eight weeks, what had started as an evening’s entertainment turned into a joyless grind that I nevertheless couldn’t break away from. I even deleted the app one night, only to download it the next morning.
After a few days, I deleted the app a second time and thought about how to keep from falling prey to its distracting lure again. At least, I tried to think about it. It wasn’t very long before I distracted myself with woodworking videos on YouTube. When I got bored with those, I turned to political blogs. After catching up on them, I opened the App Store to download the game again — or find another and begin the cycle anew. The game wasn’t the only problem.
I wrote about the struggle in my journal and concluded that the iPad itself was the problem. It made it too easy for me to fritter away my time. I shut it down and put it in a drawer. That was on a Thursday night. I promised myself I wouldn’t take it out again until after the weekend. Although I was tempted to break my promise to myself mere minutes later, laziness came to the rescue. Get off the sofa and go all the way to the next room? Heck, no!
Instead, I caught up on books and magazines. I worked on my novel. I wrote in my journal more often. I did tasks I’d been putting off for my business. I had so much more time than I’d realized because it had all been vanishing into the iPad screen.
By Monday, I was reluctant to get the iPad back out of the drawer I’d shoved it into. Why risk falling back into the wasteful behavior I’d escaped? But I realized that being afraid to use it at all wasn’t necessarily healthier than indiscriminate use had been. If there were any legitimate uses for it, I’d be foolish to give them up out of fear.
Two use cases came to mind. When I teach Scrum.org Live Virtual Classes, I sketch concepts for my students. I also design woodworking projects. I don’t need it to write — I use old-fashioned pen and paper for that. I can check and send email from my phone when I can’t get to a computer. And the less time I spend reading blogs, the better it is for my blood pressure.
I deleted every app that didn’t support teaching and designing. The one exception was the Peacock app, since Carolyn and I sometimes watch Premier League games on the patio over a late weekend breakfast. Once I’d reorganized the remaining apps, I shut the iPad down again and put it away.
Three weeks after the experiment began, I’ve booted it up maybe three times. Ditching my reflexive distraction has improved my satisfaction. I read more, write more, do more. The iPad itself was never the problem — only the way I used it.
