A phenomenon occurs when smartphones are turned off: time appears to expand. Minutes lengthen, and an hour becomes tangible. The absence of screens renders the passage of time perceptible. But when a device is reactivated, time seems to contract as notifications and feeds rapidly consume attention, leaving entire afternoons to pass unnoticed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Overview on<\/strong> Materialist Media Theory<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n The easiest way to talk about smartphones is still to talk about what we see on them. When we worry about our phones, we tend to worry about content: endless TikToks, unread messages, the feeling of being \u201caddicted\u201d to whatever is happening on the screen. Grant Bollmer asks us to uncover the underlying incentive. In Materialist Media Theory: An Introduction<\/em>, he argues that focusing on meaning alone traps media studies in what he calls a kind of \u201cscreen essentialism\u201d\u2014the assumption that what we see on the screen is all that matters about digital media. For Bollmer, the \u201ccontent\u201d of a medium is like the piece of meat a burglar throws to distract the watchdog; obscuring the material infrastructures that reorganize space, time, and relation (4). It is key to know how media objects have agency, and thus Bollmer\u2019s central thesis\u2013 media are not carriers of immaterial meaning but material actors that reorganize bodies, gestures, cognition, time, space, and social power\u2013which is to be further confirmed by Rosenberg and Blondheim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Deprivation Experiment<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bHananel Rosenberg and Menahem Blondheim\u2019s article, \u201cWhat (Missing) the Smartphone Means,\u201d provides an approach to evaluating Bollmer\u2019s claim. Their deprivation experiment required teenagers to abandon their phones for a week and reflect on the experience of missing this personal device. While the initial focus was potentially the \u201caddiction\u2019 aspect, the findings are more nuanced: participants reflected differently, with positive ones such as \u201cWhen I got my smart- phone back,\u201d one participant wrote, \u201cI merely touched it and held it\u2014I actually had a pleasant and secure feeling, the mere contact was enough to give me a good sensation\u201d (246). Rosenberg and Blondheim\u2019s results support Bollmer’s argument by demonstrating that the most challenging aspect is not the loss of content but the absence of the infrastructures that transmit messages. The ‘3Ps’ identified in the absence of cellphones align with Bollmer\u2019s principles regarding how media structure sociality through material habits and dependencies. As Bollmer asserts, \u201cTechniques inscribe into the body particular cultural forms and practices that endure over time\u201d (174), highlighting the prosthetic extension of media, which becomes most apparent when it is missing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bCritical Comparison: Materiality vs Representation<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Rosenberg and Blondheim diverge from Bollmer in their interpretation of loss, maintaining an ‘im\/material’ distinction by framing the phone as a psychological-representational object linked to identity. Bollmer critiques this perspective, arguing that devices are not primarily symbols or objects of psychological attachment. In his view, the discomfort experienced by teenagers is not a commentary on media meaning, but rather an encounter with the material reorganization of life enacted by the smartphone. The device functions as a material actor that shapes cognition and behavior. Instead of viewing audiences\u2019 ‘misreadings’ (26) as evidence of fluid meaning, Bollmer emphasizes how media technologies structure the very conditions of interpretation. Common feelings of unease with smartphones\u2014such as perceiving others as ‘absent’ (4) or sensing a less ‘real’ (4) world\u2014are often attributed to distraction or authenticity. For Bollmer, however, these responses indicate a failure to consider the materiality of media, which entangles images in processes of action, circulation, and influence. The deprivation experiment demonstrates that media objects serve as ‘tools for thinking and experiencing with,’ not because they transmit signs, but because they modulate the conditions under which signs can emerge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bAnother key distinction between the two texts is their orientation toward the human subject. Rosenberg and Blondheim analyze the smartphone deprivation week primarily through teenagers’ self-reported experiences, treating the device as a psychologically meaningful object whose significance is revealed through subjective interpretation. Their analysis remains human-centered, emphasizing the phone\u2019s importance based on its meaning to users and its influence on cognition and emotion. In contrast, Bollmer rejects this anthropocentric perspective. He asserts that media objects possess agency not because they are interpreted by humans, but because they materially shape the world. For Bollmer, the smartphone is not simply a vessel for symbolic attachment, but an actor within a network of relations, structuring gesture, social coordination, temporality, and affect regardless of user perception. While Rosenberg interprets absence as psychological insight, Bollmer contends that this approach overlooks the more fundamental point: the significance of the smartphone arises from its material operations, which reorganize bodies and social relations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bTomb Raider: How Lara Croft Exemplifies Material Coupling<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bBollmer\u2019s analysis of Tomb Raider<\/em> provides a concrete illustration of his argument. Lara Croft is not simply an ideologically charged symbol, but an affective figure who embodies both empowerment and oppression, engaging viewers through sensations and identifications that transcend representational meaning (26). Bollmer critiques ideological models that conceptualize media as a ‘hypodermic needle,’ arguing that such frameworks overlook the mechanisms by which hegemony is maintained: fleeting gratifications and transient feelings of empowerment that stabilize otherwise unstable social structures (28, 31). According to Bollmer, these effects arise not from content alone, but from the material coupling between bodies and media.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bBollmer situates this issue within broader debates on interpretation, arguing that media scholarship often treats meaning as contingent, shaped by context, ‘misreading,’ or audience response (26). Concerns about distraction or the perception that smartphone users are ‘absent’ similarly emphasize representational rather than material issues. Bollmer contends that media do not provide the stable ‘presence’ of physical objects (4), nor are humans autonomous agents outside historical context. The ideological contradictions embodied by Lara Croft are not merely interpreted; they are enacted through the player’s physical engagement. The avatar’s exaggerated agility becomes a learned bodily rhythm. Bollmer asserts that the material coupling of player and controller generates a sense of agency associated with Lara, forming an affective loop that cannot be reduced to representation, as it is experienced through embodied feedback and perceptual orientation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bConclusion<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u200bAll in all, Bollmer and Rosenberg & Blondheim don’t reveal two opposing stories about smartphones so much as two ways of understanding what media are. Rosenberg and Blondheim show us the experiential surface: what it feels like when a device that structures teenage life suddenly disappears. Their findings remind us that smartphones aren’t simply visual portals into immaterial worlds but anchors that stabilize rhythms of sociality, perception, and selfhood. Yet their interpretation remains tied to the logic of representation by demonstrating how phones matter because they symbolize connection, because they’re meaningful to their users, and because their absence produces recognizable psychological effects. Bollmer insists that this is precisely where media analysis must push further. What the deprivation experiment exposes is not just an emotional attachment but a deep material coupling in which bodies, habits, time, and attention have been reorganized by technical infrastructures long before anyone determines what a smartphone “means.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Works Cited<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rosenberg Hananel, and Menahem Blondheim. \u201cWhat (missing) the smartphone means: Implications of the medium\u2019s portable, personal, and prosthetic aspects in the deprivation experience of teenagers.\u201d The Information Society<\/em>, vol. 41, no. 4, 29 Apr. 2025, pp. 239\u2013255, https:\/\/doi.org\/10.1080\/01972243.2025.2490487. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Bollmer, Grant. Materialist Media Theory An Introduction Grant Bollmer<\/em>. Zed Books, 2021. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cover art: https:\/\/www.pinterest.com\/pin\/422281210585563\/<\/p>\n\n\n\n Written by Gina Chang and Nicole Jiao<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A phenomenon occurs when smartphones are turned off: time appears to expand. Minutes lengthen, and an hour becomes tangible. The absence of screens renders the passage of time perceptible. But when a device is reactivated, time seems to contract as notifications and feeds rapidly consume attention, leaving entire afternoons to pass unnoticed. Overview on Materialist … Continue reading The Material Life of the Smartphone: A Critical Dialogue Between Bollmer and Rosenberg<\/span>