The world of "analog" apps, trying to imitating yesterday's tech limitations with today's hi-tech devices, in search of slow paced and intentional creative processes.
By Rodrigo Garza
Aug 21, 2024
Pretend for a second: You're swiping on your phone, with roughly 100,000 times more computing power than NASA had when humans set foot on the moon. And what are you doing with this technological marvel? Trying to make your screen feel like piece of paper, while waiting for the clock hit the 24-hour mark after the photos you took of last night's blackout. Welcome to the world of "analog" apps, imitating yesterday's tech limitations with today's hi-tech devices.
First up, we have apps like Penultimate and Noteshelf. They use complex algorithms to make your tablet pen strokes look like they were made with a ballpoint pen on paper. Because apparently, what we all missed about paper was the occasional ink blot and the inability to edit our mistakes.
Then there's Hanx Writer, brought to you by actor, typewriter enthusiast, and COVID celebrity patient Zero, Tom Hanks. It turns your iPad into a "typewriter," complete with the clacking sounds and the inability to easily delete typos, and hiding basic features behind different "typewriter models" oh and a paywall. Nothing says productivity like making it harder to write and edit.
Apps like Gudak and 1-Hour Photo let you take photos with your state-of-the-art phone camera... and then wait hours or days to see them. Gudak even limits you to 24 shots and makes you wait three days to "develop" them. It's like having an analog camera, minus having an analog camera.
And let's not forget Dispo, which tried to recreate the "magic" of disposable cameras by making you wait until 9 AM the next day to see your photos. Because if there's one thing we all miss about film photography, it's the anxiety of not knowing if our photos turned out okay. And let's not even get into the endless apps promising to make your photos look like they were taken on a roll of Kodak Gold, like Fimo, Dazz Cam and the lot, who invariably end up overdoing the effect.
HIGH-TECH IMITATING LOW-TECH
Even for messaging, there’s the Slowly app, which their website describe as "The app is created for those who yearn for meaningful conversations with people in the era of instant messaging. The farther away your pen pal lives, the longer it will take." Write to your algorithm-matched pen pal via digital letters, where their algorithm will actively slow down the speed at which the message is delivered.
OH THE IRONY
The irony is palpable. We've spent decades developing technology to make processes faster, more efficient, and more convenient. And now we're using that same technology to artificially slow things down and add inconvenience back into our lives.
As easy as it is to poke fun at these apps, here at Lightyears, most of the team actively use at least one of these apps, so their relative popularity might point to something real. In our fast-paced, instant-gratification world, there's a genuine attraction to slowing down, to adding friction to our processes.
These apps tap into our nostalgia for a time when things took longer, when we had to be more deliberate in our actions, a reaction to the overwhelming speed and volume of our digital lives. In a world of infinite choices and instant results, limitation can feel like liberation, constraints unleash creativity.
This digital yearning isn't limited to apps; it's influencing hardware design too. Take the Fuji X line, which has in its ranks the almost mythical Fuji X-Pro3. Besides all the digital "film" simulations, it has a screen that is closed by default and an e-ink display that mimics the little tab people used to tear off the box of film roll and stick to the back of the camera. Leica has the M-D line of digital cameras that don't have a screen, like, at all, forcing you to wait until you offload your camera to a device to see the results.
But the appeal of these products goes beyond mere nostalgia. Psychologist Jonathan Haidt's research on what he calls the 'anxious generation' offers a compelling explanation for their popularity. Haidt argues that constant connectivity and the instant gratification of social media have contributed to rising rates of anxiety, particularly among Gen-Z, born after 1995.
From that point of view, apps and products that deliberately slow down our digital experiences might be serving as a kind of "immune system" pushback to receiving constant stimuli. They create a buffer zone, a digital speed bump that forces us to pause and potentially reduce the overwhelming flood of information and interactions. They're not just mimicking old technology; they're creating tiny bubbles of anticipation in our I-Want-It-Now world. It's like a digital detox, lite.
But look, here's a wild idea: instead of using apps that imitate analog processes, why not try the real thing? We get the convenience of it all, and in some cases you just have to move forward to not fall behind. But if it's possible and you want to write like it's on paper, grab a notebook and pen. They're cheap, readily available, and bonus - they never run out of battery.
Miss the anticipation of waiting for photos to develop? Pick up a disposable camera or an old film camera. You'll get the genuine experience of waiting for your photos. Yeah, we know film photography is expensive these days, but it doesn't have to be. Slow things further down, develop your film at home, or use your 10k Leica M kit to digitize the negs.
As we navigate this bizarro world where cutting-edge tech larps as vintage gadgets, it's worth hitting the pause button to ponder what we're really after. These "slow" apps and retro-inspired gizmos aren't just about nostalgia; they're a cry for help from our hyper-connected, attention-deficit society.
We Crave Digital Friction
Perhaps what we're truly craving isn't the charming aesthetics of old tech, but the peace that came with it. Now that everything is instant except our ability to process it all, these digital-analog mashups are helping us slow down, to savor the process, to be more deliberate in our actions, like meditation.
Let's reflect on something, are these apps and devices truly satisfying our need for a slower, more mindful existence, or are they just another digital Band-Aid on our anxious, always-on lives?
While there's undoubtedly charm (and maybe even some therapeutic value) in these digital time machines, let's not forget the real world that exists beyond our screens. Maybe the next time you feel the urge to download a typewriter app or wait 24 hours for a digital photo to "develop," take it as a cue to step away from the device altogether. Radical concept, I know.
Pick up an actual book, write a letter by hand, or take a walk with a real camera (or just your eyes). Who knows, you might even make eye contact with another human being.
Let's not overlook the most effective solution, which in most cases is the simplest: genuine, unmediated experiences. After all, reality doesn't need an update, and life's most precious moments can't be recreated with a filter or an app.
So, as we continue to surf this strange, ironic wave of slow technology, let's challenge ourselves to find a balance. Embrace the convenience of the digital age, but don't be scared to truly unplug sometimes, no In-App purchase needed.