Reclaiming procrastination
Because phones have hijacked the art of wasting time (screens and minds #4)
This is the fourth in a loose series exploring the relationship between screens and our thoughts, behaviours and emotions. You can read the rationale behind the series in the second half of this post and the previous (standalone) instalments here and here and here.
I recently got myself temporarily unaddicted to my phone by having such a nice time IRL that it barely even occurred to me to look at it.
It was a couple of weeks ago, and Roberto and I were in Bath for the weekend to celebrate our ten-year (!) anniversary. We stayed in a hotel in the centre and spent the time eating nice food, pottering in little shops, buying books, visiting a beautiful garden on the edge of town, and lounging in the Thermae (a spa fed by thermal springs, basically the modern day version of the Roman baths — please go). We didn’t bring our laptops or iPads or devote any time to coding, in his case, or writing, in mine. Our phones hardly got a look-in.
I angst a lot about screen time and phone addiction, but I was struck by how easy it was to consign my phone to the bottom of my bag and forget all about it. It was easy because I had an acute sense of how limited our time there was: only forty-eight hours away from all forms of work and obligation, doing absolutely nothing except things we enjoyed, and I didn’t feel inclined to waste that precious oasis of time by devoting my attention to a screen in the palm of my hand. When my phone came out it was as a practical tool — a map or a camera — rather than a means of entertainment or avoidance or ego-bolstering or emotional retreat, and generally speaking I put it away again as soon as I could. I was extremely impressed with myself, and newly determined to stay in charge of my phone instead of letting it take charge of me.
Back in the ordinary run of things, it’s harder. I’m sure I’d be more inclined to leave my phone alone if I had a sharper sense of life itself as a ‘precious oasis of time’, far too limited and valuable to be wasted — which of course is exactly what it is. This is an attitude I could conceivably cultivate, and in many ways doing so is an ongoing project for me: reminding myself, over and over again, that life is something to savour.
But you can’t savour everything. There will always be bits you can’t be bothered with or wish were over, and phones are exceptionally good at helping us avoid them. I don’t scroll mindlessly because I enjoy it, but because it seems preferable, in the moment, to whatever I’m supposed to be doing instead: plodding through emails, cleaning the bathroom, getting up off the sofa to brush my teeth. Perhaps the secret to a healthy relationship with one’s phone is to just… do more nice things. It would be easy to curb my phone addiction, I’m sure, if I spent my entire life having as lovely a time as I did in Bath.
Since that isn’t entirely practical, I usually find myself going with the more punitive option: attempting to mould myself into an iron-willed person who never procrastinates. But this is doomed to fail, because I’ve always been a procrastinator. It’s a deep-seated habit. Part of the reason I’ve never truly committed to giving up Instagram is because I know that eliminating one procrastination tool will only make space for another. Before Instagram, I procrastinated on Facebook. Before Facebook, I procrastinated on MySpace. Before MySpace, I procrastinated on The Sims and AOL celebrity photo galleries.
But there was a time, many years ago, when I procrastinated by reading books. I got intimately acquainted with the oeuvre of Jacqueline Wilson when I was looking for an excuse not to do my violin practice. I can remember rereading the whole of The Bed and Breakfast Star in my dressing gown, fresh from the bath, because I couldn’t be bothered to get dressed.
Perhaps this is just what children do, or perhaps it was quaint even then (I grew up in a TV-less household, something for which I remain grateful to my parents even if I lack a few 90s cultural references as a result). Either way, it seems highly antiquated to me now. I recall it giving me an icky feeling, because I’d put off the thing I didn’t want to do instead of just getting on with it — but still! Imagine reading being an illicit treat rather than something to make time for, a distraction from other, worthier activities as opposed to a worthy activity from which to be distracted.
Every so often a thinkpiece emerges about what’s being lost with the decline in our ability to experience boredom. A corollary to that, I think, is the decline in our ability to procrastinate well. Procrastination may predate phones, but phones have taken it to a whole new level by turning time-wasting into a genuine waste of time. Think of all the procrastination reading, baking, cleaning and gardening lost to the pull of social media. What, without phones, might we be accidentally achieving in moments when we’re supposed to be doing something else?
It’s ironic, because at the same time digital culture has fetishised productivity to a troubling degree (blurring the lines between work and down time, encouraging us to monetise our hobbies, breeding a whole subculture of YouTube productivity gurus etc etc), it’s also robbed us of the opportunities we might once have had for ‘backhanded’ productivity, the kind that happens at the expense of things that are supposedly more important.
It’s difficult to see a way around this, when time-wasting is unintentional by its very nature. Good luck resolving to procrastinate more intentionally! I am, however, resolving to remember that not all procrastination is made alike, that there is a good kind and a bad kind, and that the good kind can bring something of value to life — that it is more than just a regrettable character flaw.
This week I good-procrastinated by talking to Roberto about superhero movies when I was supposed to be getting up and on with the day, and also by writing this post about procrastination when I was supposed to be getting ready for bed (#meta #irony #etc). In both cases I was technically wasting time, but in neither case was my time truly wasted. And I think that’s an important distinction.
‘Til soon,
Kx
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"Good luck resolving to procrastinate more intentionally!" Hahah! I love it. There are many other more productive ways and healthier ways to do it . Thanks for this reminder. Love it.
So much of this resonates with how I've been thinking more and more recently. I love the idea of backhanded productivity, those healthy outlets to avoid more uncomfortable things. There is something so indulgent about reading a book when you're not meant to