A couple weeks back, I got my first Fitbit. It was more of a smartwatch, and it reminded me of my digital watch — the one I used to wear on my wrist years back when I was in high school. Unlike my traditional timepiece, this new device can integrate with my phone through Bluetooth, and besides the current time, it can also measure my heart rate and monitor other activities.
The technical aspect of the device — the sensor that tracks the movement of my hands and, based on the movement, determines how many steps I have walked — enthralled me. I was also fascinated by the heartbeat measurement, and the way the device constantly feeds the data to the Android or iOS for statistical analysis. As a computer science student, I was also intrigued by the technical possibilities of big data analytics provided that a large amount of data is collected on the user’s consensus.
I did a few cardio exercises and watched my pulse get monitored by the device. I felt my exercise process became mechanical. I was not doing exercise to enjoy it but to get some statistics right on my Fitbit. To me, exercise is not just a physical act; it is also the process of knowing myself better, and it also covers spiritual and psychological realms. The Fitbit felt like a distraction. Rather than trusting my bodily instincts and listening to my senses, I was now dependent on a machine, which felt unnatural.
The Fitbit devices are not standalone; they must depend on the phone or other computing devices. For even the sophisticated Fitbits I had looked at, I could play music and receive a call if it is constantly paired with a smartphone. Although I couldn’t find any trusted scientific evidence proving constant exposure to Bluetooth is harmful, I didn’t feel great having the device on my wrist 24 hours.
Fitbit devices also track our sleep. But again, I would rather trust my own senses. If I felt refreshed in the morning, then I would assume I slept well. If I woke up with red eyes and heaviness in mind, I would assume something was problematic. I couldn’t find any scientific research that studied the accuracy of such sleep measurements and proved the device is more accurate than the human senses. Trusting the device more than my bodily instincts felt like an insult to my own senses.
Wearing Fitbits also increased my anxiety due to a constant impulse to check the measurements on the device. As a software developer, I spend most of my time in front of a computer, and I get exhausted at the end of the day even though the problems I work with are interesting and engaging. If I have some time away from my computer screen, I would rather appreciate the view outside without any tension or do nothing instead of checking my wrist to see if I have completed my daily quota of steps.
I felt uncomfortable wearing the Fitbit all the time as it seemed to have added more complexity in my life. I decided to not to wear it regularly. After getting the Fitbit off my wrist, I felt better; I don’t mind wearing it once in a while though.
