The Accidental Detox: Why Silencing Your Phone Isn’t Enough

I made a mistake this morning. I went to the gym and left my phone at home.

For the first five minutes, I felt the familiar, rising panic of a limb missing. How would I track my sets? What if an urgent email comes in at 7:15 AM? What if I get bored between reps?

But once the initial withdrawal symptoms subsided, something strange happened. I actually focused. I wasn’t just ‘not looking’ at my phone; I was entirely free of it. It made me realise that there is a massive difference between silencing notifications and severing the connection entirely.

The “Silent” Trap

We often trick ourselves into thinking that flipping the little switch on the side of the device is enough. We put it on ‘Do Not Disturb’, turn it face down on the desk, and congratulate ourselves on our discipline.

But for a neurodivergent brain—specifically one grappling with the chaos of AuDHD (Autism and ADHD)—a silent phone is still a loud object. It sits there, pregnant with potential. It is a physical reminder of the digital world waiting to be acknowledged.

Even when silent, the device demands cognitive load. It requires willpower to ignore. It’s like sitting in a room with a box of doughnuts and promising not to eat them; you might succeed, but a portion of your brain is constantly running the “don’t eat the doughnut” script. That is energy you aren’t using for creative thinking.

Object Permanence is a Superpower (Sometimes)

One of the quirks of ADHD is a struggle with object permanence—the idea that if I can’t see something, it ceases to exist. Usually, this is a nightmare. It’s why my keys end up in the fridge or why I forget to reply to texts.

However, in this context, it’s a superpower.

When the phone was physically absent—not in my pocket, not in my locker, but miles away—my brain stopped running the background process of monitoring it. The “potential” for distraction was gone. I wasn’t resisting the urge to check; the urge simply evaporated because the option wasn’t there.

The Strategic Value of Disconnecting

You might be wondering what my leg press routine has to do with brand strategy. Quite a lot, actually.

In my previous post, Protecting the Space to Pause, I wrote about how problem-solving thrives in quiet spaces. Brand strategy is not a reactive discipline. You cannot build a robust, authentic strategy while doom-scrolling or reacting to slack notifications.

Strategy requires synthesis. It requires taking disparate pieces of information and finding the thread that connects them. That deep, synthesising work cannot happen when you are constantly tethered to a dopamine dispenser.

If you want to build a brand that feels real—as I touched on in I Demand Real—you need to step away from the curated noise of the internet to remember what reality actually looks like. You need to be bored. You need to let your mind wander without a digital leash yanking it back every thirty seconds.

A Universal Need

While the sensory overload of a smartphone is particularly acute for neurodivergent people, the benefits of total disconnection are universal. Neurotypical brains are just as susceptible to the fragmentation of attention. We are all exhausted. We are all over-stimulated.

Silencing your phone is a half-measure. It’s a polite request for peace. Leaving it behind is a boundary.

So, here is my challenge to you. Don’t just silence it. Don’t just put it in a drawer. Next time you go for a walk, or to the gym, or to the shops, leave the device behind entirely.

It will feel terrifying for the first ten minutes. And then, it will feel like freedom.