As concerns grow over the impact of social media and constant connectivity on mental health, Helen Coffey tests the newly relaunched Nokia 3210, a nostalgic nod to simpler times.
The phrase “New phone, who dis?” was one I anticipated typing out with nostalgic delight as I powered on the new and improved Nokia 3210. This iconic phone from my youth, now relaunched in 2024, seeks to counteract the adverse effects of pervasive smartphone use. Unfortunately, my excitement was short-lived: before I could send a witty text, I realized that no one— not even my 72-year-old mother—sends text messages anymore. Everyone uses WhatsApp.
This starkly highlights how deeply smartphones have integrated into our daily lives. Every aspect of my existence—work, social life, love life, travel, and finances—is managed through a palm-sized screen.
I’ve always identified as an “analogue girl,” preferring books over Kindles, using a Filofax as my diary, and sticking to physical bank cards. My resistance to digital trends often meant arriving late to the tech party. I remember drawing maps on scraps of paper to avoid paying for mobile data and shocking a friend with my empty smartphone screen devoid of apps.
Fast-forward to 2024, and my resistance has crumbled. Like many, I’ve succumbed to the digital age’s demands. DataReportal’s 2023 research indicates that users aged 16 to 64 worldwide average six hours and 37 minutes of screen time daily, with three hours and 46 minutes spent on smartphones. Ofcom reports that UK adults spend 56 days a year online, with millennials like me averaging 41 apps.
This over-reliance on smartphones has left me uneasy. Research links rising mental health issues among children and young people to increased smartphone use. Even social media platform creators admit they’ve unleashed a monster. Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, author of The Anxious Generation, advocates for basic phones to curb smartphone dependency among children. The popularity of “dumbphones,” which only support calling, texting, and setting alarms, is growing, especially among Gen Z, 40% of whom worry about excessive smartphone use. The Guardian notes that Gen Z’s social media use has declined since 2021.
Privacy concerns, data harvesting, and manipulative algorithms have sparked trends like the #bringbackflipphones hashtag on TikTok. HMD, the company behind Nokia’s relaunch, saw flip phone sales double by April 2023, making retro tech cool again.
Inspired by this movement, I excitedly unboxed the new Nokia 3210, a model identical to my first mobile phone, to see if swapping my Samsung for this minimalist device could reconnect me with the real world. It’s priced at £74.99 and three times more expensive than the Nokia 105 dumbphone.
Initial challenges arose immediately. After plugging in the phone to charge, nothing happened. After ten minutes of frustration, I realized the battery wasn’t in the handset—a stark reminder of how long it’s been since phones allowed removable batteries.
Before switching SIM cards, I downloaded WhatsApp on my laptop to maintain social connectivity. However, modern conveniences need fixing. My train tickets, stored on the Trainline app, had no accessible code for printing. With a home printer, accessing paper versions was possible. Reluctantly, I used my smartphone to travel for work, knowing my boss wouldn’t accept “my burner phone ate my homework” as an excuse.
Despite the rocky start, the new 3210 featured classic games like Snake, providing a nostalgic escape from endless social media scrolling. The phone’s 4G internet and additional features like a torch, voice recorder, and calculator evoked memories of early web experiences and the days of MSN Messenger and Myspace.
Testing the 3210’s 2MP camera, I captured videos and photos of my friend’s pets. The quality was a far cry from my smartphone’s high-definition capabilities. Still, the simplicity prevented storage overload from countless unnecessary snaps.
As I prepared for my commute, I realized my Bluetooth headphones and Spotify were incompatible with the Nokia. Instead, I listened to the sounds of my surroundings, experiencing a rare moment of presence. On the station platform, I observed nature rather than scrolling through social media, feeling a mix of unease and calm.
The most significant benefit of reverting to an analogue phone was the absence of addictive features. The phone became a mere communication tool without social media and constant notifications. Initially, I felt despondent, repeatedly checking for non-existent notifications. However, I soon appreciated the absence of distractions.
At the pub, I listened to conversations instead of watching Instagram stories. On the train, I read a book instead of watching Netflix. Gradually, a sense of peace replaced the frantic connectivity.
However, the challenges of modern life without a smartphone became evident. Promoting my singing gigs on Instagram, managing online banking, navigating without Google Maps, and using various essential apps proved frustrating. The digital genie, once released, is nearly impossible to put back in the bottle.
This experience underscored the importance of delaying smartphone access for children. St Albans aims to become the first British city to go smartphone-free for under-14s, reflecting a growing awareness of the need for digital boundaries.
While I can’t entirely abandon my smartphone, I can streamline its use by reducing apps to essentials and imposing stricter usage rules. Simplifying my phone may complicate my life, but it offers a glimpse into a less dependent existence where stillness replaces constant stimuli. I might finally beat my 2002 high score on Snake.