The product in which I used to write to you today provided me with the tools for how I define your products: addicting. I find myself reaching for my iPhone in settings it probably should not be used. I can’t seem to put it away or out of my sight. I believe I have become obsessed— one may even say addicted. It may or may not be unhealthy. And for this, I blame you.
I blame your App Store with its addicting games and bright, attractive colors. You capture the bandwagoners that hop on everything trending almost as fast as they hop on their phone— I too am guilty of this because I have Candy Crush Saga and Flappy Bird downloaded to my device. You have proved that there is, actually, an app for everything from dating apps to bubble wrap popping apps (yes, there IS an app for that). You hold the App Store in such high authority that as I am typing this, you feel the need to capitalize the name “App Store”. So the App Store is at fault for my clingy-ness to my iPhone.
Not only do I blame your App Store, I blame the most addicting apps that are on it: social media apps. Before I downloaded Snapchat, did I really want to know if Betty went to Milk and Honey with her friends and got a latte? Probably not. These apps now have me caring about whatever they want me to care about. Before social media, I didn’t worry about a good caption for my Instagram photo, whether or not to tweet about that funny thing that happened today, and what the Kardashians are wearing (or not wearing) on a daily basis. Now all of a sudden I’m spending my time watching a video on how to make zucchini pasta for my next dinner party
when I don’t even eat zucchini or host dinner parties. Why do I care so much about these things? Because you want me to. For this, I blame your apps—social media apps in particular.
Now don’t get me wrong, my iPhone and the apps that are on it are helpful in a lot of ways. I now have a calculator with me wherever I go. That’s pretty helpful! DuoLingo can teach me a new language. Neat! And I am most definitely staying connected with my family members that live in middle-of-nowhere Kansas— just like what Facebook wanted me to do—even though I may know more about their lives than I probably should. The iPhone is both a blessing and a curse, and many iPhone users— smartphone users in general (that’s you too, Samsung)—can attest to this.
We all make mistakes. Some of us make those mistakes over and over again in the form of our iPhones. You release apps that are fun and exciting, but we are the ones feeding into them, letting those apps consume us entirely. Why should all of the blame be on you for our unwillingness to set the phone down?
So basically, Apple, what I am really trying to say here is, thank you. Sure, I might need to have my iPhone in my hand at all times, scrolling through Instagram until my fingers fall off. And you may have caused a few late grades from my teachers because of my incessant Netflix binging. But you are just doing your job—creating more apps for me to obsess over and more features for me and others like me to fall in love with and become addicted to. And for that, I can never repay you. Except in phone bills and monthly subscriptions to services you provide. Either way, I have a debt to repay.