The paradox of our technology-driven world is that we depend on smartphones to form connections with others, even as these screens create greater distance in our real relationships. Meet Ravi and Priya, an urban couple in their mid-30s who started therapy with me a few months ago, reporting relationship dissatisfaction. Most of the conflict centres on the lack of intimacy Priya experiences. Because of their differing work schedules, they barely see each other, and on the rare evenings they do, Ravi prefers to watch a movie. Whenever Priya comments on what they’re watching, he quickly silences her as he detests being disturbed during his screen time.
As Indian families grow smaller and — perhaps — lonelier because of this, screens step in to soothe that longing, while making everyone appear self-reliant. Our dependence on screens keeps growing, since most apps capitalise on notifications and messages that keep the brain’s reward circuitry active through intermittent reinforcement, leaving us hooked on dopamine highs and craving more. As addiction-expert Anna Lembke puts it, the smartphone is a hypodermic needle, delivering an opiate hit to any ailing soul. Perhaps it’s time to retire Karl Marx’s famous line — “religion is the opiate of the masses” — and accept that technology is steadily taking religion’s place.
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Do digital screens create barriers ?
Digital screens create barriers to the authentic human-to-human connection needed for the release of the bonding hormone, oxytocin. Eye contact, non-verbal cues, touch, and the full sensory experience we need to feel seen and understood are all becoming rare. Priya craves that bonding time with Ravi, but he comfortably hides behind technology, using it to mask an avoidant attachment pattern. A pursuer-distancer dynamic has taken hold: The more anxiously Priya reaches out to connect, the more avoidant Ravi becomes. Their physical intimacy suffers too, as the tension spills into the bedroom.
{{/usCountry}}Digital screens create barriers to the authentic human-to-human connection needed for the release of the bonding hormone, oxytocin. Eye contact, non-verbal cues, touch, and the full sensory experience we need to feel seen and understood are all becoming rare. Priya craves that bonding time with Ravi, but he comfortably hides behind technology, using it to mask an avoidant attachment pattern. A pursuer-distancer dynamic has taken hold: The more anxiously Priya reaches out to connect, the more avoidant Ravi becomes. Their physical intimacy suffers too, as the tension spills into the bedroom.
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The smartphone becomes a companion, a transitional object, much like a soothing toy that fills the empty spaces in a relationship. The gadget then rescues them from relational pain as well. Priya often asks, “Why are we even living together if we’re each lost in our own worlds?”
A recent qualitative study on digital interference and marital dissatisfaction identified eight areas of concern among Indian couples: conflicts around screen time, social media use, privacy invasion, phubbing, maintaining digital boundaries, work spilling into personal life through devices, reduced emotional intimacy, and low self-regulation. In couple therapy, it’s increasingly common to see one partner scrolling through their phone while the other voices a complaint. Phubbing — choosing to interact with one’s phone over one’s partner is becoming a widespread habit. It’s a micro-aggression, a betrayal of the authentic presence everyone desires but few manage to provide.
American psychologists and researchers John and Julie Gottman found that even seemingly happy couples can feel lonely within their marriages. An Indian study found a loneliness rate of nearly 40-50% among married couples. This loneliness epidemic isn’t just about proximity, it’s emotional and epistemic too, rooted in the deeply human need for a partner who understands you intellectually and emotionally. Our neurology is wired to attune to an intimate partner, and the absence of that attunement can trigger threat responses and heightened physiological stress. Anjali, another client, complains about her partner’s video-game use. She consistently feels invisible in her relationship and wonders whether she should simply learn to live alone while staying in it.
Digital addiction is quietly eroding our capacity to attune emotionally and communicate attentively, as sustained smartphone use diminishes our cognitive capabilities. Technoference (a portmanteau of technology and interference) steadily reduces the mental and emotional capacity needed to sustain a relationship. No partner can compete with the level of stimulation a smartphone provides — mental, emotional, visual, and auditory, all at once. Digital addiction can also inflate expectations of a romantic partner, creating a desire for constant validation that no real person can reasonably sustain.
Boundaries around digital use are, therefore, necessary for couples seeking a deeper, more enriching relationship. Keeping smartphones away during intimate and leisure time is a meaningful start. Taking active steps to protect your mental well-being from digital drain is equally important. Invest in shared offline experiences, such as partner dancing or any creative pursuit that can rebuild embodied connection. Ultimately, the success of a relationship rests on how often you turn toward your partner rather than away from them.