Unplugging from the Internet is becoming a luxury good

IF YOU are a frequent traveller, it has probably been a while since the digital world left you in peace at 30,000 feet.

Due to the thousands of satellites in low Earth orbit, digital dead zones are rapidly vanishing, and you are now reachable even in the cramped confines of economy class.

Sure, your knees are up around your ears and your lower back has lost all feeling, but you can still reply to your boss’ Slack messages.

Little wonder then, that the pendulum has begun swinging back against this relentless connectedness. Now, you can drive an hour out of Dublin to hole up in an off-grid, solar-powered cabin or make scrapbooks at a Luddite-themed festival in New York City.

But in order to fully untether yourself from virtual tyranny, you will have to dig into your pockets. And you will have to dig deep.

A six-day couple’s digital detox reset at a Costa Rican resort will set you back almost S$7,000, for example.

If you would like some peace closer to home, you could buy a Light Phone, an intentionally basic device designed to be “used as little as possible”. The latest model, which offers no access to messaging apps WhatsApp or Signal, is retailing for a very unbasic price of US$699.

These offerings are undergirded by a convenient narrative: The willpower of Homo sapiens in 2026 is so degraded, we need to reach deep into our wallets for constraints that will induce the discipline we can no longer summon ourselves.

Forces beyond our control

But our relentless connectedness is not purely an internal failing. Structural forces beyond our control are exerting an immense amount of influence on our personal time and space, and we are increasingly outgunned.

A 2024 survey of Singapore workers found that 93 per cent of respondents had worked outside of their official hours.

Meanwhile, 71 per cent of employees believed that they would suffer negative consequences, including damage to their promotion prospects or job security, for not responding to work after hours.

The ugly truth is, the weaker someone’s social and economic leverage is – a beleaguered account executive as opposed to a director, for example – the harder it is for them to take time off almighty Slack.

Some governments are trying to address this economic stratification of digital tyranny. More than 20 countries have “right to disconnect” laws that allow workers to leave their boss on “read” after office hours without fear of reprisal.

If adult employees need help to step away from the digital world, regulators know that children stand even less of a chance against its draw.

On Jul 15, the UK government said it will introduce a social media curfew from midnight to 6 am for 16 and 17-year-olds as a default setting on devices, though they, unlike adults, may not crave disconnection yet.

These moves signal a growing understanding that humans – children and adults alike – are no match for the grip of the Internet, whether for work or leisure.

And however patchy the implementation, regulations such as these will hopefully reframe constant connectivity as a structural issue to be collectively addressed, rather than as an individual weakness to be meditated away.

Only then may we finally start treating digital quiet as a modern right, instead of a luxury offering limited to the rainforests of Costa Rica.