In 2019, I took a two-week trip to Japan to see the cherry blossoms. I didn’t buy an international SIM card or pay for roaming. I carried a handwritten list of hostel addresses and subway directions, clicked photos on an old digital camera, and made one short call to my parents every evening from the hostel landline. There was no Instagram to post updates on, no WhatsApp pings to respond to, and no pressure to be “reachable”. At the time, it wasn’t a grand decision. I simply didn’t care enough about staying connected. But in hindsight, what I stumbled into is now being sold, at a premium, as a digital detox experience.
Fast forward to 2025, what I did for free has become an aspiration people are willing to pay for, to feel unreachable, to move through the world without the pressure of notifications, to exist without algorithms demanding your attention. The digital detox business is booming, not because people want less tech, but because they crave more control. Whether it’s paid retreats, minimalist phones, or screen-time management apps, a growing number of people are now investing in ways to log off, even if just temporarily.
Across India and globally, more people are paying a premium to disconnect. From app-based time blockers and mindfulness retreats to ‘detox concierges’ and secondary ‘kale phones’, digital detox is no longer a moral decision. It’s a consumer choice. And increasingly, it’s a luxury one.
Fatigue is universal; solutions are not
There’s little debate anymore about whether screens are making us sick. According to a 2022 report, American adults spend over 13 hours a day on devices. The UK’s Ofcom clocked over 6 hours a day in 2020. In India, Opal’s Worldwide Screen Time Report places the national average at 5 hours 11 minutes. Major cities like Delhi, Mumbai and Bengaluru hover around or above that.
Screen fatigue, also known as digital fatigue or screen burnout, is a state of mental exhaustion caused by prolonged and excessive use of digital devices. “Common symptoms of this condition include difficulty concentrating, low energy levels, exhaustion, decreased motivation, irritability, headaches, eye strain, and disturbed sleep patterns,” says Dr Shaunak Ajinkya, consultant psychiatrist at Mumbai’s Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital.
That screen fatigue is spurring the desire to “unplug”. But in a world where everything runs on tech, from your laptop to car dashboard, going offline isn’t easy. Nor is it free.
Kenneth Schlenker, founder and CEO of Opal, says their premium screen-time management app is gaining strong traction in India. “India is one of the fastest-growing markets for us,” he says, adding: “About 70% of our new installs are from students, half of them in college, half in high school.”
Opal offers a free version, but its real power lies in paid presets, available for a one-time payment of $399, such as Digital Sabbath, Work Hours, and Family Time. One of the most popular features, Schlenker notes, lets you “brick” your phone for a set period, disabling all non-essential apps.
Similarly, Forest, a paid app (Rs 399) with over 40 million users worldwide, helps people beat phone distractions and stay focused by growing virtual trees. Using a Pomodoro timer, it partners with the real-tree-planting organisation Trees for the Future to plant actual trees on Earth. As the user remains focused, their tree flourishes; quit the app early, and the tree withers.
When mindfulness meets money
The rise of structured retreats also reflects this willingness to pay, not to learn something new, but to unlearn digital habits. Starting at around Rs 55,000 for 3 nights, hotel group CGH Earth is among those offering curated tech-free wellness at their retreats in Kerala and Gokarna.
“The digital detox initiative emerged from a deeply considered need to offer our guests, and in some cases, patients, an intentional escape from the hyper-connected, stress-laden environments they sought to leave behind. Long before ‘digital detox’ became fashionable jargon, CGH Earth had already taken a visionary step by removing televisions from all rooms across our resorts,” says Mridula Jose, vice president, marketing and product development at CGH Earth. “We didn’t want our guests coming all the way to our destinations only to remain indoors, watching television. The true luxury we offer is presence, an immersive reconnection with the natural world.”
And this wasn’t a trend-driven decision. “It was a deliberate philosophy rooted in our core belief: that nature is the ultimate teacher, therapist, and guide.”
This philosophy also shapes how the detox is implemented. At CGH’s wellness centres, all shared areas are device-free zones. “To maintain this digital balance, Wi-Fi access is deliberately restricted to guest/patient rooms. This subtle yet effective measure ensures that those wishing to use mobile devices are encouraged to do so in the privacy of their own quarters,” says Jose.
Luxury retreats like Six Senses Vana in Dehradun, priced at Rs 168,000 for minimum three nights, are also actively reshaping the detox landscape. Devices are banned in public areas, and digital detox is an integrated part of their wellness offerings. Guests sign up for curated 5-, 7-, or 14-day programmes combining Ayurveda, Tibetan medicine, yoga, sound healing and nature immersion, all in a sal-tree forest.
Similarly, Atmantan Wellness Centre in Mulshi enforces a no-device policy across its 42-acre campus. Wi-Fi is only accessible inside guest rooms. The entire property is designed as a phone-free sanctuary. Their detox philosophy promotes analogue living as a path to mindfulness and self-connection.
“Most of our clients come for longer durations, on average, 10 nights, seeking tangible results,” says Nikhil Kapur, founder of Atmantan. “They’re here for counselling, to rewire their emotions, and to pick up healthy habits, key aspects that are now a major trend.”
Speaking at the Heal in India summit this year focusing on wellness tourism, he adds, “For every 52 women, there are 48 men visiting our centre.”
With a package, such as an eight-day road trip at `25,000 per person, tour operators like Grassroutes, Village Ways, and Spiti Ecosphere are also selling “silent travel” experiences: no Wi-Fi, no network connectivity, no itinerary, just mountain walks, conversations with locals, and analog living.
This post-pandemic trend gained traction as a counter to “revenge travel”. While one set of people booked five-star stays with five bars of Wi-Fi, another group quietly sought out offbeat cottages with no signal.
Globally too, the trend is becoming status-coded. Mexico’s Grand Velas Resorts now offers a digital detox programme where a ‘detox concierge’ physically takes your devices on check-in. In the UK, Cool Places, a travel curation site, now tags hotels as ‘no Wi-Fi’ to cater to this emerging market. Hilton’s 2025 global report found that 27% of adults plan to intentionally reduce social media use during holidays. Plum Guide, a luxury vacation rental site, saw a 17% spike in searches for ‘tech-lite properties’.
“Initially, it’s not uncommon for guests to experience a sense of unease or compulsion, the habitual urge to remain digitally connected persists,” Jose says, adding: “However, once immersed in the therapeutic programmes and enveloped by the serene atmosphere of our picturesque spaces, that tension begins to dissolve.”
“In fact, many guests have likened the experience to being gently cocooned in a healing sanctuary, one they instinctively do not wish to disturb,” Jose adds. In short: the new luxury is not connectivity, but the absence of it.
Shaping product ecosystems
Beyond travel and wellness, digital detox is also shaping product ecosystems. One unusual but increasingly popular solution? Buying a second phone.
Entrepreneur and digital thinker George Mack famously shared his ‘Kale Phone vs Cocaine Phone’ method: one stripped-down phone (only Kindle, Uber, Maps, Notes), and another dopamine-loaded phone (Twitter, Instagram, WhatsApp) kept switched off till noon.
It sounds extreme, but the approach has inspired a small wave of imitators. On Reddit and productivity forums, ‘Kale Phone’ lists are now common. Offline-friendly phone brands like Light Phone ($699) and Punkt ($299) have seen growing international sales, which are specifically “designed to be used as little as possible”. In India, a handful of users are repurposing old smartphones into distraction-free devices, or even buying a basic Nokia for weekends. Why? Because the price of attention now feels greater than the price of a second phone.
Visible shift in therapy rooms
The shift is also visible in therapy rooms. “Yes, people pay for structured detox experiences because they feel stuck,” says Dr Ajinkya. “App blockers, retreats, secondary devices, these are not just tools. They represent commitment. Clients are saying, ‘I can’t rely on willpower. I’m willing to invest in change’,” he adds.
He believes detox tools could become part of mainstream mental health care. “We already have government platforms like Tele MANAS. There’s a growing case for digital well-being to be folded into public policy, through apps, school curriculums, and workplace wellness initiatives.”
Dr Pooja Verma, psychologist at Yashoda Medicity, agrees. She prescribes what she calls “digital hygiene routines” in therapy, such as setting app timers, using grayscale mode at night, phones outside bedrooms, screen-free zones at home, offline time daily for hobbies or walking.
She also sees clients voluntarily adopting tech-free mornings, no-phone meals, and ‘do not disturb Sundays’. “They’re not rejecting technology,” she says. “They’re just tired of the way it consumes them.”
For this story, I asked my friends on Instagram if they’d ever done any sort of digital detox and what they did instead. A majority (68%) said yes, and spent their time with family or while travelling. Interestingly, many hadn’t labelled it as “detox” until prompted.Students across India are increasingly taking drastic steps to reclaim their attention during high-stakes academic periods, be it IAS aspirants preparing for prelims or postgraduates deep in dissertation mode. One of the most common strategies? Deleting social media altogether. From Instagram to Snapchat, platforms are routinely uninstalled as students attempt to build a firewall around their focus. The logic is simple: if willpower isn’t enough, then removal becomes the only option. Many describe it as a form of self-enforced digital exile, often lasting weeks or months, to create uninterrupted headspace.
“It’s not that I hate Instagram,” says Rachita Anand (name changed), a Delhi-based UPSC aspirant, adding: “It’s just that I can’t afford to open it and lose two hours without realising it.” In a world engineered for distraction, students are learning that deletion, not moderation, is sometimes the only way to concentrate.
But Dr Verma flags a critical caveat: these solutions are often only accessible to the affluent. “Detoxing assumes time, space, and job flexibility. For gig workers or caregivers, logging off is a luxury. We need more inclusive strategies that build literacy and boundaries without penalising the poor.”
The status of disconnection
In a strange twist, digital detox has become both a psychological need and a status symbol. Posting about your no-phone weekend on Instagram is no longer ironic, it’s aspirational. Ten years ago, we showed off new iPhones. Now people show off not using them.
Which might explain why apps like Opal have a freemium model but rely on paid subscribers for sustainability. Or why luxury retreats now frame device removal as self-care, not restriction.
“Yes, we do and we see a steady growth in demand,” says Jose.
“Guests are comfortable with the arrangement, especially when they know that if necessary, they have access to their devices and can connect with the outside world from the privacy of their rooms. We’ve even hosted silent retreats at our SwaSwara Retreat Centre, led by external faculty, which have drawn powerful responses. These experiences reaffirm our belief that true wellness involves not just physical rejuvenation, but also digital and mental. Immersed in a space intentionally designed to promote presence and reflection, they find themselves liberated from the compulsive grip of constant connectivity… They’re choosing stillness over screen time,” adds Jose.
A cultural correction
Dr Aastha Raina, psychiatrist at ClearMedi, Noida, believes the digital detox boom is less a trend and more a cultural correction. “We’ve stopped asking our brains to remember. We reach for phones, not our memories. We scroll not to learn, but to compare. And even with great careers and financial stability, many of my clients feel empty,” she explains.
This emptiness, says Dr Raina, drives people to retreats, detoxes, and minimal phones. Not as a rejection of technology, but as a search for meaning in an age of overload. “People are buying stillness because they no longer know how to create it.”
According to Dr Ajinkya, even though smartphone penetration is high, significant portions of our population, particularly in rural and low-income areas, still lack access to the internet. “Therefore, digital must be inclusive and consider these disparities. For many, smartphones are essential tools for livelihood and education. Rigid, impractical detoxes could be counterproductive. The focus should be on mindful use, not complete abstinence,” he adds.
Experts say the concept of a “digital detox” should evolve to “digital hygiene” or “mindful tech use”. This reframing acknowledges that technology is an integral part of modern life for almost everyone, and that the goal isn’t necessarily to eliminate it, but to control it and use it intentionally.
For most of human history, disconnection was the default. Now, it’s the premium upgrade.
Whether it’s Rs 35,000 for a screen-blocking app, Rs 3,00,000 for a three-night no-Wi-Fi luxury retreat, or Rs 1,400 for a basic phone that doesn’t ping, people are clearly willing to spend. Not because they want less from life, but because they want more of it without constant interruption. After all, in a hyper-connected world, silence may just be the most expensive thing of all.