I spoke with my lecturer, ever so briefly, about how my generation uses our phones.
She was curious about this and asked with intrigue and inquisitiveness.
She joked that she had given me my next topic for this column.
I thought, if one person is wondering this, then surely most are.
Then I thought, I can help with that.
The question of phone usage hardly ever occurred to me before this, an indication of how very normalised technology has become.
We have undeniably become desensitised to screens.
Phones, social media; we are all aware of their negative impacts.
Increased peer pressure, online bullying, mental health ... the list goes on.
Personally, I would say the most troubling effect of social media is its constant surveillance.
There is now a need to constantly perform that has wormed its way into most people’s mindsets.
It has become integrated into the way we view very normal, regular activities.
Perhaps we feel dissatisfied with our day-to-day lives, perhaps we worry about how others will judge us.
Now, with how easily we can access other people’s lives, this only invites those negative emotions, those familiar friends of jealousy and escapism, to flourish.
But we are too aware of these negative effects, so much so that we no longer recognise them.
In a way, they’ve lost their value, no longer able to deter us away from our phones.
TikTok has often become a place where I become ‘‘stuck’’ on.
I can’t move from my position, half on my bed, half on the floor, doomscrolling, as my phone steadily grows hotter in my palm and the battery rapidly declines.
And yes, I do in fact sleep with my phone tucked under my pillow, I always have it with me at all times.
That familiar weight in my back pocket is grounding and reassuring.
An addiction, it’s clear.
And yet we don’t treat it as seriously as it deserves to be.
Our reliance upon these small devices is complicated.
Screens are integral to everyday life.
You can’t escape the sound of typing in each lecture.
Perhaps the rare person might have pen and paper, but it’s certainly more efficient for speed when using a laptop.
Lectures are recorded, broadcast live for overrun health-science papers in three different theatres.
Most places on campus are only via card.
Often I feel at a loss.
How can an alternative be found when we already rely so heavily upon technology?
When I place my phone down and look around my room, my eye catches upon that stack of books I brought from home.
So eager, so determined that I would finish them promptly; they collect dust now on my shelves.
I think at this stage, just having people still willing to read is an impressive feat.
I often forget that, having come from a childhood that promoted books with ferocity, perhaps most people don’t actively seek out reading.
When I ask someone if they read and the response is “no” said naturally, in a tone marked with obviousness, I have to repress my shock.
Intertwined with this is the manipulation of books as a demonstration of superiority, a status symbol.
We are truly privileged to be able to read, to have access to books so easily.
Here they are, sitting around me on the shelves of Central Library, waiting to be chosen, and yet they hardly ever garner attention.
In a recent politics lecture, the statistic was mentioned that in 2026, 13% of the world’s population cannot read or write.
What a restriction on all of us, my lecturer commented, that the world is being denied these peoples’ intelligence, due to a counterproductive system.
And so certainly, there are levels to how our world revolves around screens.
When we turn on our phones first thing in the morning to check our notifications, social media, the time, these levels are incited.
It is essential that we become actively aware of how to balance these impacts, that we learn to use phones responsibly, with mindful care towards ourselves.
Seek out reading as an alternative, picking up a book for the time usually spent on a device.
Slowly, over time, it will become a habit that you naturally gravitate to.
Though, at the end of my French test, I left the room with my phone clutched tight in my hand, while my drink bottle remained behind.
Perhaps then, I need to follow my own advice.
• Eleanor Wong is a Dunedin first-year University of Otago student.
