The other day, I watched an online talk by Sherry Turkle about technology and communication. And honestly, it left me a bit rattled. It made me reflect on the impact of smartphones on conversation—something we rarely stop to question.

When was the last time I had a real conversation without checking my phone? Without half-listening while half-texting?

Maybe we’ve gotten too used to living halfway between two worlds: the one in front of us, and the one inside our screens.

I see it everywhere. Parents scrolling at the dinner table, kids texting under the desk in school, colleagues “multi-tasking” through meetings (which usually means: not really paying attention to anything).

Sometimes I wonder: do our brains even get a chance to “breathe” anymore?

Because those in-between moments—waiting at a red light, standing in line, sitting quietly—used to be when our thoughts would wander, settle, and make sense of the world. Are we losing essential communication skills due to technology?

Without those pauses, are we losing something essential?

The “Always-On” Parent Dilemma

Turkle made another point that really stuck with me.

If parents can’t stop posting while cooking dinner, how can they expect their kids to stay focused on homework?

It’s like we’re modeling a kind of “split attention” as normal. Be here—but also there. Juggle everything. Never pause.

I thought about my teenage cousin and her friends. They meet up in person—then sit in silence, each one tapping away on a separate conversation online.

It’s not that they don’t care about each other. It’s that… maybe they don’t know how to have deeper conversations anymore.

Connected, But Alone

The irony is almost too perfect.

The more ways we invent to stay “connected,” the lonelier many people seem to feel.

Older generations, like my grandparents, don’t have this problem. They grew up knowing how to be alone—and that it was okay.

But if you’re under 20? Your entire life has been a flow of notifications, updates, group chats. There’s always “someone” to talk to.

Except… is it really talking, when you can edit your message three times before hitting send? When you never have to sit with someone’s awkward pause, their unsure glance, their real-time emotions?

Conversation Is Getting… Shallower

Another thing I can’t unsee now: how conversations have gotten shorter. Emoticons instead of words. Quick reactions instead of full thoughts.

And—this one surprised me—we’re training ourselves to talk to machines.

“Hey Siri, set a timer.” “Hey Google, what’s the weather?”

Tiny exchanges. No emotion. No shared experience.

Meanwhile, our expectations of human conversations are shrinking. If a real conversation doesn’t move fast enough, or if someone struggles to express themselves, people get impatient.

We want texts, not talks. Snippets, not stories.

What’s at Risk?

When I was a kid, my parents delayed giving me a smartphone for as long as possible.

(At the time, I thought it was terribly unfair. Everyone else had cool phones and there I was with a clunky Nokia…)

But now? I’m grateful.

Because before the scrolling and swiping took over, I learned how to actually listen to people. To make eye contact. To sit through the messy parts of conversation.

If I hadn’t had that “pre-smartphone” phase… would I be able to do that today? If you want to dig deeper into this topic, Sherry Turkle’s book “Reclaiming Conversation” explores how we can recover real communication skills in the digital age.

Technology Isn’t Evil (But…)

Of course, it’s not all bad.

During the pandemic, video calls kept families connected (See also: Has Technology Really Connected Us?). Online forums help shy people find communities where they’d otherwise feel isolated.

Even now, sometimes it’s easier to say “hi” to a stranger online than to strike up a conversation in a doctor’s waiting room.

Still, there’s a price.

Screens give—but they also take.

They offer connection—but also steal our attention.

They let us speak—but sometimes rob us of the deeper, messier, more beautiful art of true conversation.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Maybe it’s time to remember what it feels like to talk without multitasking. To listen without planning your reply.

If you’re looking to reconnect with the art of real conversation, here are a few small things to try:

• Designate screen-free times—even just during meals or before bed.
• Practice active listening: put your phone down, make eye contact, and focus on what the other person is really saying.
• Embrace awkward silences: sometimes, that’s when the real thoughts surface.

Maybe it’s worth practicing again—the long talks, the silences, the realness.

Because in the end, a sticker emoji will never replace the feeling of a real smile.

What do you think?

When was the last time you had a conversation—a real one—that stayed with you for days?