I recently wrote an article about reducing our AI usage in everyday life, which has me thinking about cutting down tech use full stop. We all understand the dangers of excess screen time already, the real harm evident in en masse acknowledged but crucially ignored addiction. The mental drain from doomscrolling is often overlooked in the name of entertainment. However, phones do not have to be our sole source! In fact, physical media has more benefits than you may realise.
When I say physical media, I mean that which you can hold. Tangible forms of consumable audiovisual content: vinyl records, CDs, magazines, newspapers, books. Often discarded as outdated, these formats offer extraordinary and necessary benefits amidst the tidal wave of technological progress we currently find ourselves in. They provide entertainment without the intensity of the online sphere, alongside many more advantages than you might expect.
The best way to obtain physical media is second-hand. A quick scan on eBay or Vinted, or a wander through your local charity shop, reveals a world of possibilities. Not only is thrifting more environmentally friendly — rejecting overt consumerism by purchasing things that already exist — it’s also more fun. There’s something deeply satisfying about flicking through rails of old paperbacks or thumbing through a slightly chaotic box of CDs. You might go in looking for a specific novel and leave with a 2007 rom-com soundtrack and a cookbook from the 90s. It’s low-stakes treasure hunting.
Unlike streaming platforms, second-hand finds feel personal. A book with someone’s name scribbled inside. A vinyl with a faded price sticker from a long-closed record shop. Physical media carries history. It reminds us that culture is shared, passed down, re-loved.
It’s also incredibly practical. A magazine or CD player is not reliant on internet connection and therefore perfect for entertainment on the go. If your haphazard WiFi stops working, you find yourself without signal on the tram, or your phone is running low on charge, physical media is the ideal backup. Keeping an interesting magazine or book in your bag keeps your mind engaged in dull moments. Similarly, if you visit a café with patchy internet, reading a newspaper feels far more romantic than refreshing your inbox.
Consuming physical media also gets you off your phone. Although it sounds obvious, the effects of excessive screen time on brain health, attention span, and energy levels cannot be ignored. The constant notifications, the blue light, the temptation to “just check one thing” — it fragments our focus. Reading a book or listening to a record demands a slower kind of attention. You can’t scroll a vinyl. You can’t skim a CD. You have to sit with it.
Magazines are a brilliant place to start if you’re not ready to commit to a 400-page novel. They’re filled with short-form content across a huge range of topics, from fashion and beauty to politics and culture. You can dip in and out without pressure. And unlike social media, you won’t be interrupted by ads for something you mentioned once in passing.
Music is where physical media truly shines. An alternative to streaming services like Spotify or Apple Music might be starting a vinyl or CD collection. It transforms listening into an intentional activity rather than background noise. Choosing an album, placing the needle, reading the lyric booklet — it becomes a ritual. You listen to the songs in order, as they were designed to be heard. No skipping after 30 seconds. No algorithm nudging you elsewhere.
And then there’s the joy of freeing yourself from “the algorithm.” Online algorithms filter content tailored to your previous activity, keeping your attention by reproducing similar material you’ve already enjoyed. While this can be helpful, it destroys variety and the excitement of discovery. With music especially, curated playlists can start to feel repetitive, recycling the same artists over and over.
Buying a CD from a band you’ve never heard of, asking the owner of a record shop for recommendations, or picking up an album purely because you like the cover art introduces surprise back into your life. You might hate it. You might love it. But it will be your choice, not a data-driven prediction.
Physical media also doubles as décor. A stack of books on your bedside table, a small vinyl collection displayed on a shelf, a pile of glossy magazines — these things make a room feel lived-in and thoughtful. They say something about you without needing to curate an Instagram highlight. Your bookshelf is a far better personality test than your For You page.
Perhaps most importantly, physical media encourages presence. When you’re reading a paperback on the sofa, your phone is (hopefully) out of reach. When you’re playing a record, you’re not simultaneously replying to messages. It creates pockets of calm in an otherwise hyperconnected day. For female students balancing lectures, part-time jobs, friendships, and future planning, those small pockets of calm are essential.
This isn’t an anti-technology manifesto. Streaming is convenient. Online platforms are useful. But they shouldn’t be our only source of culture and entertainment. There’s something grounding about holding your media in your hands, about knowing it can’t disappear with a subscription fee or a software update.
So next time you feel the familiar itch to scroll, consider an alternative. Visit a charity shop. Borrow a book from a friend. Dig out your childhood CDs. Start small. Slip a magazine into your tote bag for your commute. See how it feels to consume something without a notification bar hovering above it.
In a world that is constantly refreshing, there is quiet rebellion in pressing pause. Physical media might be old-school, but it’s also intentional, sustainable, and surprisingly cool.