Sowing Anachronism: How to be Weird in Public, and Private

Flip phones, dip ink, Vespers, and other time machines

The Sower by Vincent van Gogh, 1888

For those of you who prefer to read off paper rather than the screen, I have converted the post into an easily printable pdf file. Remember to come back and share your thoughts and comments! You can access the file here:

Sowing Anachronism: How to be Weird in Public, and Private

---

Several years ago, when we lived in the thick of the suburban jungle, we would load up the jogging stroller with a toddler, strap the youngest in a carrier, while our eldest sauntered alongside, and embark on an urban pilgrimage to the grocery store. I (Ruth) carried along the same backpack I had used while hiking the Camino¹, except now it was filled to the brim with milk, pasta, fruit and vegetables, and had baguettes strapped on the sides. Although we did not manage to do all our shopping this way, we made it a regular habit to walk² rather than drive, trading convenience for a less tangible reward. It was one of the small anachronisms that resisted the unbearably fast pace of life, and prompted many a driver who zoomed past to take note and wonder: Why would anyone choose to do something so slow and effortful?

Now that we live on the edge of Mennonite country, we frequently encounter horse-drawn carriages conveying families to the grocery store or church, young ruddy-cheeked men and women cycling long distances to school or work, or gaggles of children walking alongside the fields toward home. Most of us cannot imagine (and may not desire) to return to such a seemingly cumbersome pace of life. Yet in an age where technology has wholly reformed our imagination, visible models of anachronism serve an essential role in reminding us that slowness and effort make us more human.

As a reader of School of the Unconformed, you may be looking for guidance that supports a tectonic shift in our relationship to technology amid a sea of a ubiquitous digital deluge. This sea is vast, and its surface remains mostly unbroken, reflecting the present tech default of, “anywhere, anything, anytime, for anyone”, with rare examples that make ripples by modelling the opposite of “only in certain places”, and “not everything”, and “it depends on your age”.

Among those making waves are

Jonathan Haidt

and

Zach Rausch

, who are endeavoring to “battle the hydra” of social media harms with reforms on governmental, institutional, and design levels. When reading over their work (especially the open-source Google document that contains the citations and summaries of current and proposed social media reforms), one feels hopeful, yet simultaneously overwhelmed by the immensity of the task of reining in the “many-headed monster” we have created.

“You talk as if god had made the Machine,” cried the other. “I believe that you pray to it when you are unhappy. Men made it, do not forget that.”

- from The Machine Stops by E.M. Forster, 1909

It is essential that we remember that we as individuals have agency. We do not have to wait for reforms moving from the top toward us. We can start from a bottom-up direction and instigate seeds of change by unsettling the assumptions about omnipresent technology use.

Haley Baumeister

recently commented in the lively discussion on

Dixie Dillon Lane

’s post Tech in the Family, “People can't practice or do what they've never seen done. This is true of more analog and *human* ways of living in 2023. And modeling such lives can be contagious.”

While we cannot possibly expect to offer suggestions for anachronistic practices that speak to everyone³, we would like to inspire you to stand out, to model different choices, and yes, even to be weird in public (and private), by sharing some of our own decisions that we have made over the last two decades. Depending on your own relationship to technology and life philosophy, they may strike you as absurd, reasonable, or as not going far enough, but we hope that the examples will spur you on to spread your own seeds of anachronism.

But we act in hope that repeated exposure to the Good, the beautiful, and better will eventually win over hearts and wills and triumph over ease, convenience and in some cases addiction.

Hadden Turner

Part I: How to be weird in public

Flip your phone

One of the most anachronistic choices you can make today is going cell phone-free, using a flip phone, or moving to a “light phone”⁴. While there are situations, such as taking care of an elderly or ill parent, when being reachable is important, most everyday situations do not require us to be as tethered as we are. Never having had a cell phone, I can confirm that this choice is very possible — albeit at times inconvenient — and builds a solid foundation for cognitive liberty. Friends and family know that they can reach me by landline or e-mail, and that I will get back to them when I am available.

Helpful phrases (all have been frequently tested with friendly tone and demeanor, with results ranging from raised eyebrows to interesting exchanges and offered discounts).

• This is my all-purpose phrase:

  “Do you accommodate people who choose not to use a cell phone?”

• “May I ask why you choose to prioritize customers who place orders digitally over customers who are present here and now?” (when standing in line at coffee shop)

• “I choose not to use a cell phone. Can I still take advantage of your offer without a QR code?”