Editorial: Nine things I learnt when I left my phone off for 24 hours

In the wine industry, addiction is something one is constantly obliged to confront. Alcohol flows freely, tastings are routine, and overindulgence is an occupational hazard. But addiction is a slippery concept, and it takes many forms. For a while now, I’ve been suspicious of another: my smartphone.

This past weekend, I decided to experiment with a little digital wellbeing. Saturday midnight saw me power off my device, and only at half-past six on Monday morning did I dare switch it back on. What follows are nine things I discovered about life, work, and the occasional glass of wine when you unplug completely.

1. No content – good or bad

The first observation to make is how much simpler life becomes. Around midday on Sunday, I discovered (ironically via the television) that South Africa was 124/6 in the third ODI against Australia. If I’d had my phone, I might have obsessed over every detail of their opponent’s 431/2. Avoiding that particular rabbit hole was a boon…

Less helpfully, but more relevant to my day, I could not access analyses of the Cape Winemakers Guild wines slated for auction in October. No scorecards, but also no tech sheets. No connectivity, in this case, was mixed blessing.

2. No work anxiety

Without a phone, I was blissfully unaware of deadlines, emails, and calendar prompts. The usual low-grade panic about meetings, tastings, and copy edits simply evaporated.

3. No connection to loved ones – or the wider world

On the flip side, absence from the digital world also meant absence from people. No messages from family, no updates from friends, and no engagement with the broader community of wine lovers, rugby followers, or anyone with whom I might share a passing opinion. It was peaceful, yes, but also curiously lonely.

4. No camera

I had to experience moments rather than capture them. Every cat antic, every bottle label, every perfectly poured glass of Chenin Blanc went unrecorded. It was a strange liberation: life was happening in front of me, unmediated, unfiltered, and unposted. A reminder that perhaps not everything needs recording for posterity.

5. Old media

Freed from the tyranny of notifications, I returned to old-fashioned content. I read a good chunk of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which I started around Easter but have yet to finish …because I’m always on my phone. I also watched Wes Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme and read the October 2003 10th-anniversary edition of Wine Magazine, complete with its Top 10 wineries of the decade: 1. Thelema; 2. Kanonkop; 3. Neil Ellis; 4. Klein Constantia; 5. Vergelegen; 6. Saxenburg; 7. Glen Carlou; 8. Stellenzicht; 9. Mulderbosch; and 10. De Trafford.

Taken together, it reminded me that old media is far from irrelevant. Richer, more considered, and surprisingly enduring, it still has legs.

6. Freedom from the habitual

No mindless browsing – yes, even the sorts of sites best left unmentioned in polite company. Just as liberating as you might expect.

7. Space to think

This, perhaps, was the clearest revelation. Addiction – whether to media, alcohol, food, or wine itself – obstructs reflection. The quiet moments without my phone forced me to ponder small things, big things, and everything in between. 

8. Time saved

Ironically, switching off a device designed to “save time” actually made the day longer. I ran, I read and lingered over wine with more attention than usual. Hours stretched luxuriously.

9. Loss of professional relevance

Again, not entirely without downsides. In a world where social media visibility and instant communication underpin professional life, disappearing even briefly risks a drop in awareness. For a critic, a writer, or any public figure: absence is not always an option. Relevance is fleeting, and unplugging for too long would only accelerate its loss.

In short, leaving my phone off for 24 hours was a study in contrasts. Life was quieter, slower, and occasionally more contemplative. Yet I also felt a little untethered, professionally adrift, and culturally out of step.

Perhaps the lesson is this: balance matters. Phones, wine, work, whatever your poison – freedom from addiction begins with mindful presence – resisting escapism, facing discomfort honestly, and choosing healthy engagement over dependency. The occasional digital detox helps. A glass of wine savoured slowly is another daily ritual that reminds you to live in the moment.