how to switch off without paying the price – new research

Switching off can be surprisingly expensive. Like the smoking cessation boom of the 1990s, the digital detox business – which includes hardware, apps, telecoms, workplace wellbeing providers, digital ‘wellbeing suites’ and tourism – is now a global industry in its own right.

People are increasingly willing to pay to escape the technology in which they feel trapped. The global digital detox market is currently estimated at approximately $2.7 billion, and is expected to double in size by 2033.

Hardware makers like Light Phone, Punkt, Wisephone, and Nokia sell minimalist “dumb phones” at premium prices, while subscription-based website blockers like Freedom, Forest, Offtime, and RescueTime have turned restraint into a lucrative revenue stream.

Wellness tourism operators have also benefited: tech-free travel company Unplugged recently expanded to 45 phone-free cabins in Britain and Spain, marketing the disconnect as a high-end experience.

However, my new research, together with colleagues at Lancaster University, suggests that this commercialized form of abstinence rarely extinguishes digital cravings – instead acting only as a temporary respite.

We conducted a 12-month netnography focusing on the NoSurf Reddit community of people interested in increasing their productivity, plus 21 in-depth interviews (conducted remotely) with participants living in different countries. We found that rather than actively confronting their habits, participants often reported outsourcing their self-discipline to blocker apps, timed lockboxes, and minimalist phones.

Joan*, a NoSurf participant, explained how she relies on app blocking software not to boost her self-control, but to completely negate the need for it. “For me, it’s less about using willpower, which is a precious resource… and more about eliminating the need to exercise willpower in the first place.”

Philosopher Slavoj Žižek defines this kind of behavior – delegating the work of self-regulation to a market product – as ‘interpassivity’. This produces what he calls “false activity”: people think they are addressing a problem by engaging in consumer solutions that actually leave their underlying patterns unchanged.

Several of our detox participants described a cycle in which each relapse prompted them to try yet another tool, entrenching their dependence on the commercial ecosystem. Sophia, on the other hand, only wished for a return to “dumb phones with the full keyboard, like they had in 2008,” adding, “I would use a phone like that for the rest of my life if I could.”

Individualized digital detox interventions have been found to produce mixed and often short-lived effects. Participants in our study described brief breaks during which they briefly reduced activity before resuming their familiar patterns.

Many users engaged in what sociologist Hartmut Rosa calls “oases of delay”: temporary delays that were not intended to stop, but to recover from overload. Like a pit stop, the digital detox provided them with temporary relief, while ultimately enabling a quick return to screens, often with similar or higher levels of engagement than before.

Community-wide detox initiatives

Although the commercialization of digital detox is often portrayed as a Western trend, the Asia-Pacific region is the fastest growing market in the world for these goods and services. But in Asia we also see some examples of non-commercial responses at community or country level to the problem of digital overload.

In central Japan, Toyoake has introduced the first national guidelines for smartphone use. Families are encouraged to create shared rules, including stopping children from using devices after 9 p.m. This reframes digital restraint as a community practice, rather than a test of individual willpower.

In western India, the 15,000 residents of Vadgaon are asked to practice a 90-minute digital shutdown every night. Phones and TVs turn off at 7 p.m., after which many villagers gather outside. What started during the pandemic is now a ritual that shows healthy tech habits can be easier together than alone.

And in August 2025, South Korea – one of the most connected countries in the world – passed a new law banning the use of smartphones in classrooms from March next year, expanding countries around the world to have such a rule. A similar policy in the Netherlands appeared to improve focus among students.

The commercial detox industry is booming because personal solutions are easy to sell, while systemic solutions are much harder to implement. In other areas, ranging from gambling addiction to obesity, policies often focus on personal behavior, such as self-regulation or individual choice, rather than addressing the structural forces and powerful lobbies that can perpetuate harm.

How to avoid the pitfalls of the detox industry

To address the problem of digital overload, I believe tech companies must move beyond cosmetic “digital wellness” features that only serve as distractions and take proper responsibility for the smartphone technologies that deliver compelling engagement by default. In the meantime, governments can learn from initiatives in Asia and elsewhere that combine joint support with imposed rules around digital restraint.

At the same time, if you’re considering a digital detox yourself, here are some suggestions to reduce the chance of getting caught in a commercial detox loop.

1. Don’t delegate your agency

Be wary of tools that promise to do the work for you. While you may think you’re solving the problem this way, your underlying habits will likely remain unchanged.

2. Be careful not to let the content bounce back

We found that digital detoxers often look for real experiences, like going outside and ‘touching grass’ – but then feel drawn to translate these back into messages, photos and updates.

3. Seek solidarity, not products

Like the villagers of Vadgaon, try to align your connection with that of others. It’s harder to scroll when everyone else has agreed to stop.

4. Reclaim boredom

We often detox to be more “productive” but instead try to embrace boredom. As the philosopher Martin Heidegger has noted, deep boredom is a space in which reflection becomes possible. And that can be very useful indeed.

*Names of research participants have been changed to protect their privacy.