PUBLISHED| Dennis Minott | Phone in hand: Toy, ‘tegereg,’ or tyrant?
- aquest
- 1 day ago
- 4 min read

Here in Jamaica, we live in an era where a slim slab of glass, silicon, and plastic dominates much of our lives. It’s always in our hands, always by our side, always watching, listening, buzzing, and beeping. But what is your relationship with this digital companion—your phone?
Is it merely a playground for fleeting amusement, a powerful tool for productivity, a technological tegereg, a tyrannical slave master, or even an idol that demands daily sacrifice?
Answering this question may reveal not just how we use technology but how we understand ourselves, our purpose, and our values in a hyperconnected world.
The playground: Dopamine and distraction
For many, the phone is a playground. Social media feeds, endless ‘doomscrolling’, TikTok dances, memes, and mobile games provide momentary pleasures that often stretch into hours. This aspect of the phone is designed to stimulate your brain’s dopamine centres, rewarding you with likes, shares, and cute cat videos.
But ask yourself this: after an hour on your phone, do you feel more fulfilled—or more empty?
The playground is not inherently harmful. Recreation has always been part of human life. However, when the playground becomes an escape from reality rather than a healthy break within it, the device begins to wield subtle power. What starts as leisure can transform into avoidance—avoidance of relationships, responsibilities, or even one’s own thoughts.
Who are we when we are bored—and afraid to sit with that boredom without a screen to distract us?
The tool: Power and productivity
At its best, the smartphone is a brilliant tool. It allows us to communicate across oceans, manage businesses from a beach or bedroom, learn languages on the go, and document injustice with a tap of a finger. It holds our calendars, tracks our habits, reminds us to drink water, and even tells us when to bathe.
Used intentionally, the phone extends our capabilities. It can amplify our talents, creativity, and service to others. In this sense, it is a modern marvel.
But tools are meant to be used—not to use us. A hammer that leaps out of the toolbox and smashes everything on its own is no longer a tool—it’s a threat. Similarly, a phone that interrupts every conversation, commands your attention at dinner or wakes you at 3 a.m. with pointless notifications begins to invert the relationship between user and device.
So here’s the key question: Are you using the phone—or is the phone using you?
The slave master: Obedience by design
There’s a darker side to the story. Our phones are not neutral. They are programmed with algorithms that learn our behaviour, influence our preferences, and nudge our actions. Notifications are not just alerts—they’re demands. Responses are expected instantly; silence is interpreted as rejection or ‘unprofessionalism’.
In this way, many of us have become slaves to the phone. We obey its pings. We scroll before bed and first thing in the morning. We compulsively check it in lifts, traffic jams, washrooms—and sometimes mid-conversation. What kind of freedom is that?
Unlike whip-wielding overseers and bacras of olden times, today’s digital slave master doesn’t need to shout. It whispers in your pocket. It vibrates on your nightstand. It punishes you not with pain but with FOMO—fear of missing out.
And all the while your time, attention and data are being harvested, monetised and sold. You become the product—not the user. So again: who’s in control?
The Idol: Worship by habit
This may be the most dangerous relationship of all—the phone as idol. Idolatry doesn’t require golden calves, sacred rivers, prayer wheels, or stone temples; it simply requires misplaced devotion. If we’re honest with ourselves, many of us give more daily reverence to our phones than to any higher power, family member or even our own conscience.
How often do you check your phone versus checking in with your parents, child, or spouse? How many hours do you spend in quiet reflection versus scrolling? How quickly do you react to a notification compared to a human cry for help?
The modern idol doesn’t demand that you bow down—it just needs you to look down again and again.
This isn’t moralising but provoking serious reflection. Idols shape what we value—and what we value shapes who we become.
So, What should we do?
This isn’t an A-QuEST Luddite’s plea to smash all smartphones; the point isn’t to vilify the device but to awaken the user. The answer lies not in rejection but in reflection and reclamation.
Ask yourself:
Do I control when and how I use my phone?
Have I set boundaries for screen time or notifications?
Do I take digital Sabbaths—intentional time away from devices?
Do I still know how to be bored? To be still? To be present?
When was the last time I left my phone in another room—on purpose?
These questions aren’t about guilt but awareness; recognising digital chains is the first step towards breaking them.

The hope: Reclaiming humanity
Ultimately, the phone isn’t inherently a playground, tool, slave master, tegereg, or idol—it becomes what we allow it to become. And that means power still resides in your hands—literally and figuratively.
There’s still time to make your phone a servant rather than a master; a bridge rather than a barrier; a helpful companion rather than a distracting contraption.
It starts with awareness; grows with discipline; flowers into freedom.
So next time you pick up your phone, ask yourself: What am I really reaching for? Connection? Comfort? Control? Or simply habit?
Your answer might change everything.
by Dennis A. Minott, PhD.
April 13, 2025
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