Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my phone gives me—and what it quietly takes away.
It used to feel like a tool for connection and efficiency. Increasingly, it feels like a source of low-grade anxiety, arriving in a thousand small interruptions. A few years ago, I deleted Facebook Messenger from my phone. I don’t miss it. Then I turned off notifications for most other apps. That helped too. The more I assert myself over the device, the better I feel.
It’s not a clean break. It’s a series of small, deliberate adjustments—an ongoing effort to rebalance attention and agency.
There’s a line often attributed to Paulo Coelhothough usually quoted secondhand: If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine. It’s deadly. I heard it recently via Daniele Quercia whose work explores how data-driven systems shape the way we move through the world.
Quercia’s idea of “happy maps” stuck with me—maps that don’t optimize for speed or efficiency, but for beauty, calm, memory, or surprise. Quiet routes. Scenic routes. Routes that enrich experience rather than compress it.
I remember when MapQuest felt miraculous. You could type in two addresses and get directions. Compared to paper maps, it was magic. But I also remember the stress of following those instructions without any sense of the larger landscape—missing turns, getting lost, arriving late and flustered.
Then came GPS. Then Google Maps. And suddenly, many of us stopped navigating altogether.
My small rebellion began with intentionally ignoring the directions lady. Taking a turn she didn’t advise. It still feels oddly transgressive. With her calmly rerouting me, I notice how much I miss the accidental discoveries that come from losing my way. Instead, I’m delivered—efficiently—onto the most traveled road.
Google Maps is an extraordinary tool. I’m not arguing otherwise. But efficiency has a cost. It flattens rhythm into routine. And I’ve come to realize that what I need—what many of us need—is rhythm, not routine.
Rhythm leaves room for judgment. For curiosity. For drawing your own lines.
When we outsource navigation entirely, we also outsource attention. We move faster, but we notice less. We arrive, but we don’t always experience.
This isn’t really about phones or maps. It’s about how systems designed to optimize our lives can quietly design us in return. And about the small, imperfect ways we push back—by choosing a longer route, a quieter street, a path that wasn’t recommended.
Sometimes, that’s where the adventure still lives.
Happy Maps References:
Ted Talk by Daniele Quercia about his happy maps and how we might live in a world fabricated for efficiency.
If you would like to be part of Daniel’s research, head over to Urbabgems.org where you can weigh in on what you think is appealing (or not) and help to create a better understanding of where we collectively find joy and beauty.
Also – check out these – Shortest paths to happiness (in Berlin, London, Boston, Torino, Italy)
Image: omegas via 123RF
Keywords: gardens as culture, efficiency vs experience, digital navigation, routine and rhythm, walking and attention, happy maps, technology and culture, sense of place
