Letting Go of Computers
~whiskeyding
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I have owned computers since I was ten years old, when my dad
brought home a genuine IBM PC XT in 1983. They shaped my life and
my thinking, even as they shaped the world at large. I loved the
magic machines for a good many decades, but now I find much to
regret, on both the personal level and in society at large.

I've had to step away from computers, for two reasons. The first is
aesthetic. Computing has become a kind of ugly necessity, in which
the productive work we do must run in tandem with an endless arms
race against corporate and criminal scum. Another firmware
vulnerability, another third-party database breach, another search
engine rendered useless by AI-generated SEO garbage. The walled
gardens get tighter and smaller; the end-user profit squeeze more
pronounced.

It's just exhausting to keep track of all the fiscal, personal, and
moral hazards extant in using computing devices these days.
Preserving some shred of human dignity and autonomy in the digital
realm requires more and more technical skill that I simply don't
possess and have no interest in acquiring. It's an old refrain, but
getting more true by the day: Computers are no fun any more. Why
not bow out to the extent possible?

The other reason is very personal: Computers enable and encourage
compulsive and unhealthy behaviors in my life.

I got rid of my smartphone years ago for this very reason, but then
I transferred that crappy relationship to the desktop. Oh, I tried
to 'moderate' the issue. Time- and application-restricting
programs. Low-power computers. Good old discipline and self
control.

Nothing worked.

Anything Turing-complete in this household will be bent, somehow,
to compulsive dopamine hits. Whether it's surfing the net, playing
solitaire (as I did when I tried disconnecting the home internet),
or even playing freaking Rogue when I was using a terminal-only
computer without xserver. Any time my mind started casting about
for something to occupy it, well hey, the computer is easy and it's
*right there*. Already on, ready and waiting.

It wasn't even pleasureable for more than a few minutes. The web is
boring and toxic, and the rewards offered by game-playing have
largely leached away, leaving only the compulsion. I would stop,
eventually...after an hour or two or three, eyes blurred and
burning, another evening gone in which I may or may not have spoken
a word to my wife.

It's uncannily like when I would 'unwind' with a drink ofter work,
and then wake up at 1 AM with a headache and a dry, rancid mouth
and ask myself "why do I do this?" The regret, the earnest promises
to do--to be--better that somehow never quite materialize. All
exactly the same. This sort of relationship with poisonous
indulgences can go on for years, if steps are not taken.

And so, finally, after years of struggle and failure--they have
been. The computer is gone.

The key, I think, is to get rid of the accoutrements--the monitors,
the keyboards, the cables, the memory sticks and SSDs. It's so easy
to say "I have all this stuff, it's a shame I'm not using it. Let
me get some $50 box from the used computer store and play around
with this or that distro." Well, I've been on that merry go round
before. Sunk cost fallacy is real, and real dangerous in situations
like this. My friends are hopefully enjoying their new tech
peripherals.

There are cravings, as I try to relearn how to be in the world
without screens. I eye my wife's iPad, and think about asking her
for the passcode. The brain has itches to scratch, and so I must
occupy myself...but I also have to be able to be bored. To sit and
just let the physical world wash over you, without acute ambition
or thoughts of the future--turns out that's a skill one must hone.

I'm writing this in my journal, and my hand is sore. I'm unused to
longer-form handwriting. Later, if I decide to post this, I'll
transcribe it when I go to the library to check my email. I have a
couple of Tails OS USB drives for booting up public computers, as
there are still things in modern life for which computer access is
regrettably necessary.

I'll still pop into the Pub from time to time. I like all you
weirdos, and you've been very patient with my extended digressions.

Maybe I should write a temperance pledge for the
computer-afflicted. :)