A year ago I heard about an app that tracks your sleep patterns, and can adjust one's alarm clock to harmonize with the body's natural cycles. Ten years before, a climbing buddy wanted to design an alarm clock that would do exactly that, but his idea, as I remember it, used an elaborate set-up of infrared cameras. Curious about an idea that re-entered my life as a 99 cent creation, I downloaded it.
The sleep cycle alarm has been a failure for me. I generally do not set an alarm if there is flexibility in my wake-up time, furthermore, the few times I have tried to use the alarm, the phone has fallen out of bed (which never seems to happen when I am not using a sleep tracking alarm). While this should not be a problem, it seems that the app, recording either the best sleep of my life, or my death, has decided that either way, there is no reason to bother with the alarm.
The sleep tracking aspect was fun for a while. I would tuck my phone under my pillow, feeling warmed by an eight hour visit from the radiation fairy, and drift to sleep. My movements were recorded, and plotted against time, and any noises I made, above a certain threshold, were recorded as well. Nothing entertaining ever came out of the noise recordings, just light breathing and an occasional cough. The chart of my sleep cycles matched nearly perfectly with my how I rated the restfulness of my sleep.
If I awoke feeling well rested, the chart was smooth, and my bed easy to make. If I awoke feeling groggy, the chart would be rough, and my bed would be messier. Since I felt good or bad depending on how I slept, and if I felt bad, I had to spend more time making my bed, I was acutely aware of the restfulness of my sleep. Regardless, when I turned off sleep tracking in the morning, the app on my phone would dutifully ask how I slept.
Eventually, my groggy mind started to perceive a surly tone in the question. It was never a problem on 5-star nights, but the single-star mornings, I think the app was programmed to take on a different tone. It was no longer a dutiful nurse at a sleep clinic trying to diagnose one's condition, but rather the jerk from summer camp who put tacks in your bunk. My mind started to paint the app in an even more vindictive light. The app took the role of the devil on my shoulder, but rather than imploring me to do something sinful, was lambasting me for being tired.
"You didn't sleep well? Yeah, probably because you went to bed later than you were supposed to. Even if you had slept well, it would not have been enough sleep. Is Wikipedia really that interesting"?
The app, all in my mind, would continue to become more belligerent, and I feared not sleepiness, but the imagined guilt and attitude my telephone would berate me with if I did not sleep well. If I had a hard time falling asleep, I would stop the recording, delete the bad section, and try again. I knew that my phone "knew" what I was up to, and I would loose sleep knowing that my phone was neatly tucked under my pillow, dreaming up some rude comment for the morning.
I had to stop using the app. I have successfully stayed away from apps that "help" me with any type of tracking. I use the calendar, the normal alarm clock, the internet, but not anything that "tracks" something for me, and my relationship with my phone has improved.
Recently, a friend downloaded a calorie journal to her phone. In addition to recording the calories she has eaten, it sets consumption goals, and calculates calories spent during exercise. The app is fairly aggressive, because if you go over the consumption goal on Tuesday, the calorie goal for Wednesday is reduced by the overshot. Almost instantly, her phone took on a sinister air in my mind. She did a 3000 calorie workout, and went over her consumption goal by 100 calories. Still running an over 1000 calorie deficit, the app docked her next day's consumption goal to illustrate its disappointment.
"You overate yesterday," I heard it saying in its judgmental tone. My friend and I both argue back, for I was implicated in this purported gluttony in an even larger way, "We walked all day up to a mountain pass! We had to cross an icefall"!
"Nope," her evil calorie app exclaims! "You," it continues, "do not get ice cream today, because you ate a cookie yesterday."
I know I will concede to it, or try to sneak my snacks in outside of the all knowing gaze of the advice giving app. And while I will admit that these guilt inciting pieces of programming may be useful for weightloss or sleep disorders, I think apps have a long way to go before I can trust them with any information they may judge me for.
The sleep cycle alarm has been a failure for me. I generally do not set an alarm if there is flexibility in my wake-up time, furthermore, the few times I have tried to use the alarm, the phone has fallen out of bed (which never seems to happen when I am not using a sleep tracking alarm). While this should not be a problem, it seems that the app, recording either the best sleep of my life, or my death, has decided that either way, there is no reason to bother with the alarm.
The sleep tracking aspect was fun for a while. I would tuck my phone under my pillow, feeling warmed by an eight hour visit from the radiation fairy, and drift to sleep. My movements were recorded, and plotted against time, and any noises I made, above a certain threshold, were recorded as well. Nothing entertaining ever came out of the noise recordings, just light breathing and an occasional cough. The chart of my sleep cycles matched nearly perfectly with my how I rated the restfulness of my sleep.
If I awoke feeling well rested, the chart was smooth, and my bed easy to make. If I awoke feeling groggy, the chart would be rough, and my bed would be messier. Since I felt good or bad depending on how I slept, and if I felt bad, I had to spend more time making my bed, I was acutely aware of the restfulness of my sleep. Regardless, when I turned off sleep tracking in the morning, the app on my phone would dutifully ask how I slept.
Eventually, my groggy mind started to perceive a surly tone in the question. It was never a problem on 5-star nights, but the single-star mornings, I think the app was programmed to take on a different tone. It was no longer a dutiful nurse at a sleep clinic trying to diagnose one's condition, but rather the jerk from summer camp who put tacks in your bunk. My mind started to paint the app in an even more vindictive light. The app took the role of the devil on my shoulder, but rather than imploring me to do something sinful, was lambasting me for being tired.
"You didn't sleep well? Yeah, probably because you went to bed later than you were supposed to. Even if you had slept well, it would not have been enough sleep. Is Wikipedia really that interesting"?
The app, all in my mind, would continue to become more belligerent, and I feared not sleepiness, but the imagined guilt and attitude my telephone would berate me with if I did not sleep well. If I had a hard time falling asleep, I would stop the recording, delete the bad section, and try again. I knew that my phone "knew" what I was up to, and I would loose sleep knowing that my phone was neatly tucked under my pillow, dreaming up some rude comment for the morning.
I had to stop using the app. I have successfully stayed away from apps that "help" me with any type of tracking. I use the calendar, the normal alarm clock, the internet, but not anything that "tracks" something for me, and my relationship with my phone has improved.
Recently, a friend downloaded a calorie journal to her phone. In addition to recording the calories she has eaten, it sets consumption goals, and calculates calories spent during exercise. The app is fairly aggressive, because if you go over the consumption goal on Tuesday, the calorie goal for Wednesday is reduced by the overshot. Almost instantly, her phone took on a sinister air in my mind. She did a 3000 calorie workout, and went over her consumption goal by 100 calories. Still running an over 1000 calorie deficit, the app docked her next day's consumption goal to illustrate its disappointment.
"You overate yesterday," I heard it saying in its judgmental tone. My friend and I both argue back, for I was implicated in this purported gluttony in an even larger way, "We walked all day up to a mountain pass! We had to cross an icefall"!
"Nope," her evil calorie app exclaims! "You," it continues, "do not get ice cream today, because you ate a cookie yesterday."
I know I will concede to it, or try to sneak my snacks in outside of the all knowing gaze of the advice giving app. And while I will admit that these guilt inciting pieces of programming may be useful for weightloss or sleep disorders, I think apps have a long way to go before I can trust them with any information they may judge me for.
An interesting aside...I have the Nike+GPS app to track my running. It's not perfect as the same route can differ by as much as .05 miles on any given day, but it does give a nice estimate. Anyway, when you run for three days in a row, the voice of some famous athlete tells you how great of a job you're doing. This week, though, after my third consecutive day (and an update) I got no congratulatory message from Sonja Richards-Ross or anyone else for that matter. As nuts as it may sound, I somehow really felt cheated that my app didn't recognize I had done a great job at exercising. Maybe I'll just go eat cake.
ReplyDeleteAn interesting aside...I have the Nike+GPS app to track my running. It's not perfect as the same route can differ by as much as .05 miles on any given day, but it does give a nice estimate. Anyway, when you run for three days in a row, the voice of some famous athlete tells you how great of a job you're doing. This week, though, after my third consecutive day (and an update) I got no congratulatory message from Sonja Richards-Ross or anyone else for that matter. As nuts as it may sound, I somehow really felt cheated that my app didn't recognize I had done a great job at exercising. Maybe I'll just go eat cake.
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