Dear Reader,

My flatmate and friend Ben recently broke his phone by way of smashing it off the concrete of the footpath outside of Doyles whilst trying to share his Instagram with a pretty girl. 

The results of this have been remarkable. 

Ben had been unable to work as of late due to the impending pressure of his final college exams, and so could not afford to purchase an adequate replacement for his recently deceased iPhone 9+. To resolve the issue, his father (with a coy grin etched across his face) produced a flip-phone which he had once owned sometime in the mid-2000s. It was supplied with the most bare essentials – a keypad to insert the number into; or labour for 10 minutes in order to send a text message; and of course, the game Snake. 

The phone came with a host of problems. It struggled to save contacts, forcing Ben to jot the down the person’s number on a little black notepad he saddled around like a private investigator in a low budget crime film. This is not to diminish its finer qualities however. The battery lasted forever and its brick-like frame could survive being fired at the pavement, which was fortunate given Ben’s tendency to drop it. 

The flip phone was the perfect excuse to ignore people you didn’t want to see. For example, upon being confronted by a rather inebriated ex-situationship – who asked why he never took the time to text back – Ben produced his phone from his left pocket and with a flick of the wrist gave a fairly steadfast explanation.

These social benefits became clear enough, but what was more surprising was what happened when he got bored. 

A hangover meant the absence of Instagram was largely felt. Being unable to cocoon into his mattress and doomscroll for hours made the empty hours feel more void. He gradually began to fill this void by checking off mundane tasks. He became unusually proficient at doing his laundry, so much so, that he once took it upon himself to clean my clothes too. He liked to keep up with the news and current affairs but now could no longer consult the RTE news app, and so, he resorted to buying the paper. 

He picked up an array of new hobbies and renewed former ones. For instance, his DJing skills have grown, and thank god, because Dublin has been crying out for more white men in their 20s on the decks. Through sheer boredom he now constantly has the time to hang out with friends – which we’re all happy about because he’s some man around the town. 

All of this to say that it has taken two to three weeks for his life to improve dramatically. 

I’m currently trying to follow suit. I want to read more books, I want to learn to play the banjo, I want to find the time to walk around Dublin more often. What Ben’s experience has taught me is that the answer lies in boredom. It’s a lot easier to find motivation when you’re so bored you’d rather clean your flatmates’ laundry rather than sit with your thoughts for another minute. 

The answer lies in boredom – and social media has deprived us of that. Maybe getting rid of smartphones will solve that, maybe we should all get flip-phones. Make Trinity bored again.