DIGITAL LIFE

In times of AI generating billions in profits for a few and being omnipresent, cell phone-free clubs become an urban refuge in Europe

In-person meetings that require the surrender of smartphones at the entrance propose hours of silence, manual activities, and screen-free conversations as a response to mental exhaustion, hyperconnectivity, and the growing difficulty of being present in the physical world.

Contemporary life is marked by screens, constant notifications, packed schedules, and hurried commutes. In response, groups are forming in major European cities to experience something increasingly rare: in-person meetings without cell phones, where silence, mindfulness, and direct interaction replace, even if only for a few hours, the logic of hyperconnectivity.

Joel Khalili, a journalist for Wired, participated in one of these meetings in London, England, and reported on the experience. “I was greeted at the door by the event host, who was wearing a T-shirt that said ‘The Offline Club.’ I handed over my cell phone, which was stored in a locker specially built for the event — a kind of miniature capsule hotel,” he said.

According to him, the Offline Club started somewhat impromptu in 2021 in the Netherlands. It was organized by Ilya Kneppelhout, Jordy van Bennekon, and Valentijn Klol. After an initial meeting, the trio, considering the experience instructive, began promoting sporadic offline getaways with the goal of fostering informal interaction between strangers.

Officially, the club was founded in February 2024, with events in a café in Amsterdam. Later, it expanded to 19 other cities, mainly in Europe, with each branch run as a franchise by part-time organizers.

“The events generally follow a defined format: an hour of silence, during which people are free to do whatever they want — read, assemble puzzles, color, do crafts, and so on — followed by an hour of conversation without cell phones with the other participants,” explained Khalili.

Laura Wilson, co-host of the London branch of Offline Club, told the journalist that the gatherings are designed as a remedy for the frenetic, noisy, and impersonal pace of city life, where every fraction of time is measured and controlled by alerts and reminders sent by smartphones.

“It’s like a moment of free time, where you have no responsibilities for a while,” she noted. “It’s rekindling that magic of when you were with people for no apparent reason and had no sense of time passing.”

On the night Khalili participated, she met Sangeet Narayan, programmer of the notification system for Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp, from Meta. He reported that he went to the event hoping to break free from his addiction to those same apps.

“I feel like I’m addicted to my cell phone,” he confessed. “I feel an urgent need to look at my phone—to open it, for no reason at all.”

He added that, during the first hour of the meeting, he found himself resisting the urge to look around to see what other people were doing. “It felt like I was snooping into their private lives,” he pointed out.

Khalili, for his part, admitted that it took him a while to get used to the combination of silence and collective concentration. “Twice, I found myself reaching into my pocket where my phone should be, to check how much time had passed. A flash of panic—I must have lost it somewhere!—gave way to embarrassment at this unwelcome evidence of my own pre-programming. While taking notes or playing with colored pencils, however, I managed to forget about the 40 strangers in the room,” he added.

When it was time to socialize, he started chatting with the people closest to him, talking about the quiet activities they had chosen, the books they were reading, the prospect of raising children in the smartphone age, and the recent ban on social media in Australia.

“The conversation often revolved around a hypocrisy widely shared by the group: the belief that the habit of constantly scrolling invades free time, notifications disturb the peace, and algorithms pollute discourse, combined with a simultaneous reluctance to give up any of these things,” the journalist commented.

And he concluded: “When it was time to leave, I got in line to get my phone…I put on my headphones, selected a song, and opened Google Maps to see the way home.”

The Offline Club is a Dutch movement created by Ilya Kneppelhout, Jordy van Bennekom, and Valentijn Klok that promotes digital detox gatherings. With over 530,000 followers on Instagram, the group organizes events where participants put away their cell phones and laptops, focusing on conversation, reading, and hobbies, aiming to reduce screen addiction and loneliness, expanding to cities like London and Paris.

Main characteristics and proposals:

Mission: To exchange "screen time" for "real time" and restore humanity to society.

Meetings: Include coffee, dinner, and technology-free retreats where people read, paint, play board games, or relax.

Origin and Expansion: Created in Amsterdam (Netherlands) in February 2024, the movement has grown rapidly and now holds meetings in several European cities and also in New York.

Objective: To combat the epidemic of loneliness and the rampant consumption of digital media. The club, despite using Instagram to organize events, strongly encourages physical disconnection, creating the paradox of using technology to promote "offline" activities.

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