Your Smartphone Could Be Good for you
My phone makes me feel empty. Despite the endless stream of notifications and the illusion of connection, it’s like trying to warm your hands at a fire that’s already burned out: “It’s a hollow kind of dissatisfaction, one that lovers know all too well when separated by distance. They hear the sweet, comforting words of affection and might trust the sincerity behind them—but as sincere as those words may be, they can never replace the depth of a physical embrace, the warmth of touch that transcends what words can convey.” Similarly, I thought online therapy would offer the answer I had been searching for: a way to access help without the hurdles of time, scheduling, or proximity. The convenience of it all seemed perfect. No more waiting for an appointment or worrying about commute times—just a click, a conversation, an instant connection. What could be simpler? But over time, I realized that the very convenience that drew me in was also what left me feeling drained. The sessions, meant to offer solace, felt more like a distant analysis—detached, clinical, lacking the depth and humanity I had come to expect from real-world interactions. It was therapy without warmth, without the presence of another person in the room to help anchor the process. It was just words, and they never quite landed.
Joanna Rodriguez and Nadine Page argue in their article “Your Smartphone Could Be Good for Your Mental Health,” that technology has the potential to improve mental health through innovations like telemedicine, mental health apps, and even video games that reduce stress and help with conditions like anxiety and depression. They suggest that these tools, available at the touch of a button, offer new, more accessible ways to seek help. And while these developments are undeniably convenient, they miss a crucial point. Convenience doesn’t always lead to better outcomes.
As much as apps like SPARX, an app designed to gamify mental health treatment, or telemedicine platforms offer quick fixes for those seeking support, they don’t address the complexities of mental health issues. SPARX, for instance, uses role-playing games and interactive tasks to help users manage their feelings of depression, making it a useful tool for those seeking self-help. However, while it may offer some relief, it oversimplifies the emotional work required in therapy. These apps and platforms tend to provide surface-level relief rather than truly confronting deep-seated issues or navigating the complexities of mental health. The benefits they offer, though valuable in some contexts, are not enough to replace the long-term, transformative effects of in-person therapy.
Moreover, these tools often create a false sense of connection. In the article by American psychiatrist Alex Curmi “The Big Idea: Is Convenience Making Our Lives More Difficult?” a concept called evolutionary mismatch is introduced. This idea suggests that our natural instincts, honed over thousands of years of hunter-gatherer life, are out of sync with the modern world of convenience. We evolved to face challenges—both physical and emotional—that required effort, resilience, and social bonding. In contrast, technology offers ease and instant gratification, removing the need for effort or struggle. But this mismatch can have serious consequences. As we retreat into digital spaces to avoid discomfort—whether it’s the discomfort of a difficult conversation or the vulnerability of in-person therapy—we miss out on the growth that comes from confronting challenges head-on.
This evolutionary mismatch is crucial in understanding why online therapy, despite its accessibility, can fail to meet our deeper emotional needs. Our brains are wired for face-to-face interactions, where we can read subtle cues like body language, tone of voice, and physical presence. These cues activate parts of the brain responsible for emotional empathy, creating a deeper sense of connection and trust. We keep forgetting that we are, at our core, human beings with instincts and biological needs that can’t be bypassed by convenience. We’ve become so accustomed to the idea that technology can fix any problem that we overlook the simplest, most fundamental aspects of human interaction—things like body language, tone, and physical presence. These cues aren’t just “nice to have”—they are essential for effective communication and emotional connection. This disconnect is evident in the growing challenge of maintaining long-distance relationships, where the absence of physical presence undermines the depth of the connection. No matter how many video calls we make or messages we exchange, we can’t fully replicate the nuances of being in the same room as someone, the subtle shifts in expression, the unspoken bond created by shared space. And the same is true for online therapy: without that real-time, face-to-face presence, something is always missing.
Minimizing my reliance on technology became a conscious decision to restore balance—focusing on real connections that nourish my well-being and encourage emotional growth. By stepping back from the constant stream of notifications and curated lives, I was able to remember what genuine presence felt like—something that apps and social media often cannot provide.
I didn’t seek to disconnect entirely from the digital world, but to minimize its hold over my life. By doing so, I created space for relationships that heal and help us grow—relationships rooted in presence, vulnerability, and shared experience. True healing and emotional growth don’t come from algorithms or digital distractions—they come from real, unmediated moments with others, where we are fully seen, heard, and valued.
Through this process, I also became more aware of how digital technology was changing me—how it altered my brain’s ability to focus and heightened my feelings of anxiety. The constant pinging of notifications kept me in a perpetual state of alertness, stealing my time and attention away from what really mattered. I had been tricked into thinking that the convenience of technology was an enhancement, but it was in fact a subtle form of depletion. By minimizing my engagement with these tools, I not only began to reclaim my time but also reset my mind, allowing me to rewire the patterns of distraction and restore a sense of presence and peace in my life.
References
“Your Smartphone Could Be Good for Your Mental Health” The Conversation. 28 May 2015.
“The Big Idea: Is Convenience Making Our Lives More Difficult?” The Guardian. 4 Nov 2024.
Counterintuitive Fall 2024 
Couple of things about your opening paragraph, Phoenixxxx.
Pretend your readers HAVE NOT read your Definition and Causal arguments. If that’s the case, your first sentence won’t make much sense.
Granted, when you put the piece together, you’ll probably have to revise the opening again, but the three arguments are meant to stand alone as individual essays.
Revise your citation sentence to correctly identify the article as a Title (which uses quotation marks, not italics).
Then pull the first sentence of the second paragraph (Yet something in this convenience doesn’t quite add up.) into your opening paragraph where it belongs.
About this section:
We should be prepared with a word or two, before we get here, that you’ve utilized online therapy. Sneak it into your Introduction, which will give you the chance to clearly claim FIRST PERSON as your narrative technique.
That way, when your disillusion with the technique becomes clear, you can echo the claim that it lacked the depth you had come to expect FROM FACE-TO-FACE therapy and we’ll be better prepared to draw the comparison.
There’s something not quite adequate about your “it felt like an exchange of words” observation. I get it, but it falls flat. So . . . how bold are you prepared to get?
A thought. Lovers separated by time and distance know a familiar dissatisfaction. They sense the affection, they may trust the sincerity of what they’re hearing, but hearing the words “I’m stroking your neck” in no way compares to the loved one’s tender touch.
Too much? It would resonate.
You’ll have to work a little harder on this point:
When telehealth includes video, we actually do have access to body language, facial expressions and tone.
I’m not suggesting SOMETHING isn’t missing, but those aspects largely transmit digitally.
You’ll have to ease us into your description of SSSSS a little more effectively, Phoenixxxx. We don’t know what it is, so your objections to it don’t “land” solidly for us UNTIL you start to detail its functions.
—To this point, we don’t know what SPARX is supposed to provide, or how. You’ve introduced us only to video therapy with a counselor.
—Therefore, we have no idea what a quick fix for a deep issue might even look like.
—NOW we start to gather the intelligence to appreciate what you’ve been “on about,” but, like a sign that informs us we JUST PASSED SCENIC VIEWS, we mostly resent being told we missed something important.
I understand the impulse to squeeze in a paragraph about the dangers of using social media to track our personal success, but it’s largely out of place in this more thoughtful 3000-word essay, don’t you think?
If your “Worthy Opponent” in an argument about the utility of the internet to ENHANCE your mental health suggested that comparing yourself to the self-congratulatory posts of “friends” who have curated their “on-screen” lives to imitate unachievable success WAS BENEFICIAL to our mental health, THEN you could argue that IT AIN’T. But nobody actually PROMOTES the FOMO shame spiral as therapy, right?
So, most of this doesn’t really serve your nobler intentions.
This feels like a shift in your overall (3000-word overall) approach to the topic.
Maybe I’m misremembering.
Maybe I’m not, but you’ve adopted a tone for the sake of your Rebuttal argument only—one that you’ll revise when you put the pieces together.
This is not advice; merely observation.
Graded. Always improvable and re-gradable. WordPress wouldn’t let me type regradable.
One more thing, Phoenixxxx:
One of your classmates offered up this Reference as a source for an argument:
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2451958821000361
I’m sharing it with you only because it identifies itself as a “Daily-Diary” study on the comparative benefits of texting and in-person conversations. Thought you might find it interesting.
I’m honored to have had a small influence on your work, Phoenixxxx.
https://www.facebook.com/davidbdale/posts/pfbid04qPLuTynTwzzRGiA4fqJKA7NAjF748KqEdaw9c4fT6rfZye782U5mRKyPXzcM4QGl
Thank you so much professor! I appreciate how much effort you put into feedback! Happy to grow as a writer because of such thoughtful replies you leave.
You need to identify who you’re quoting in your first paragraph.
Regraded.