At Restaurants, Phones Are Becoming the New Cigarettes

It wasn’t all that long ago that restaurants and bars around the country were dappled in the glow of cigarettes. Those days are over, but diners haven’t stopped lighting up—now it’s just with the blinding OLED gleam from their phones.

My seven-year run as a bartender started in the BlackBerry era and ended a few years after the birth of the iPhone. Back then, phone interruptions were mostly relegated to a few stray pings. If someone picked up a phone, it was usually only to say “Can I call you back?”

Today, phones are as common in a table-setting as napkins and silverware. If diners themselves aren’t pulling them out to check messages and social media, they’re likely in the background as others record Instagram videos or make FaceTime calls.

Many restaurants and patrons alike are pushing back against the shift that has turned collegial, communal spaces into places to watch TikTok while you eat. Here’s what some are doing—and what we can learn from them.

The phone lockup

Antagonist, a cocktail bar in Charlotte, N.C., is pretty antagonistic about phones. Upon entry, each customer receives a lockable Yondr pouch—the same bag some schools use to store students’ phones—that can only be opened by the staff.

“The main goal of our whole concept here really isn’t to burden anybody or take away their property,” Adam Horner, Antagonist’s general manager, said. “It’s essentially just to bring back a little slice of human connection that we all feel has been lost with technology.”

Antagonist customers are given Yondr pouches to lock up their phones. Antagonist Coffee and Cocktails

Even if your dinner destination doesn’t have the same rules, you can still borrow the basic idea. Keep your phone somewhere inconvenient or even mildly inaccessible: in your coat pocket, for instance, or your purse.

While Horner admits some patrons have arched an eyebrow at Antagonist’s policy, the benefit of having a place where people can be part of an organic social scene has far outweighed the potential loss of customers, he said. “I strongly encourage people to give it a chance, and sometimes they don’t and they go somewhere else.”

The airplane approach

The Edge, a local spot in Manhattan’s Harlem neighborhood, is a bit less rigid about phones. There’s no ban on them, but the restaurant doesn’t offer internet access. A sign at its bar reads: “No Wi-Fi. No Screens. Connect With Each Other.”

The directive is meant to encourage “stepping away from the digital and being present in the moment,” said Justine Masters, who owns The Edge with her sister Juliet.

The Edge encourages diners to disconnect. The Edge Harlem/Heather Smith

Another way anyone with a smartphone can separate themselves from the internet: turn on Airplane mode. It may sound obvious, but it’s a simple and effective way to minimize phone-induced distractions while dining out.

The screen-free competition

For those wanting to break the grip of a bad habit, one tactic is to replace it with another better-for-you thrill. That’s the strategy behind the fast-food chain Chick-fil-A’s “cellphone coops.”

At a number of locations, diners can request a coop—a cardboard box—where they can put their phones while they eat. The goal is get groups to make it through an entire meal without checking their phones, with free ice cream as a reward. The coops even feature conversation prompts for the table.

You don’t need a cardboard coop to emulate the competition elsewhere—and if ice cream isn’t enough of a draw, treat the person who goes longest without using their phone to a free drink. Or make the loser pay the tip.

The point is to create rituals that result in discipline and, slowly, new habits.

What we gain from no-phone dining

The ubiquity of phones has not only eroded our manners, but also lessened the joys of bar and dining culture. One of Chris Hall’s favorite watering holes is The Saloon in Washington, D.C., a community-orientated beer bar with no televisions and a blanket ban on all phone use.

For him, it’s a bulwark against a bar culture that has become “very insular and not very fun.” He added that, over the years, he’s made at least a dozen friends at The Saloon. “You can talk to strangers in this place.”

Tina Vaughn and Chip Smith, the husband-and-wife owners of Eulalie, an upscale cloth-napkin bistro in Tribeca, also forbid phone use at their restaurant.

A note on the menu states that phones should be on ’vacation’ while dining at Eulalie. Eulalie

The policy is spelled out on a sign in the entryway and on the restaurant’s handwritten menus. Vaughn sees it as a way to help patrons combat the pressure to always be available.

“People want an excuse. They’re dying for someone to say, ‘You can get off that. It’s OK,’ ” she said. “The phone has become less a tool and more of a stress bomb, I feel, for so many.”

As I watched a Netflix show on Apple’s first foldable, the iPhone Duo, I had two surprising thoughts.

The first: Maybe I don’t need my iPad Mini anymore.

The second: Uh oh, am I about to spend $1,999 on a phone?

I didn’t think folding phones were for me. I’ve been testing Android versions from Samsung and Google since 2019, and those early editions came with too much screen and too many compromises.

Fast forward seven years, and the technology has come a long way. Apple—in its very Apple way—has also come up with some hardware and software trickery to make up for some shortcomings of the basic design. My desire for a folding phone before today was zero. After today, it’s a lot more than zero.

I’m not ready to recommend the Duo, which ships on Oct. 23, just yet. Not until I am able to test it more fully, so be on the lookout for that review in a few weeks. But from what I experienced at Apple Park on Wednesday, I could actually picture myself using this new half-phone, half-tablet hybrid.

Crease camouflage

Nicole Nguyen holding the new iPhone Duo. — When opened, the Duo’s exterior screen goes dark.

Nicole Nguyen holding the iPhone Duo with a pink, feathery image on the screen. — The interior screen is almost as spacious as the display on an iPad Mini.

For months, I’ve been using Samsung’s Galaxy Z Fold 8, a similarly squat, passport-shaped foldable that opens up to a larger screen. It’s impressively thin and can easily fit into the infuriatingly tiny pockets in women’s pants and dresses. Samsung did a lot of work to minimize the crease—the dip between the two halves of the big interior display—but it’s still clearly there.

When I held the iPhone Duo open, the crease was barely visible. As I slid my finger across the display, I could feel it, but it’s more subtle than Samsung’s. Most of the time, the screen looked as flat and smooth as the one on an iPad.

Apple employed both software and hardware techniques to camouflage the crease. The matte surface of the interior 7.6-inch screen minimizes reflections to hide it. (Samsung’s Fold 8 screen is shiny.)

And as you begin to open or close the iPhone Duo, the interface shifts the controls and content away from the center crease. If, say, you’re watching a video on the outer screen, you can open the Duo to switch to the bigger display within. A black fade marks the transition. You don’t see the video full screen until the phone is completely flat.

Heavy handed

Apple iPhone Duo foldable smartphone closed. — When closed, iPhone Duo has a chunkier shape than traditional iPhones, with a new interface layout. David Paul Morris/Bloomberg News

My second observation was that, when the Duo is closed, in phone mode, it was harder to use one-handed than I expected.

In the keynote trailer and press release, Apple touted how thin the Duo is. It’s marketed as the thinnest iPhone ever—when open.

But it’s actually thicker and heavier than most of its Android competitors. The Duo weighs 254 grams, and is 11.3 millimeters thick when closed. The Samsung Galaxy Fold 8 is just 201 grams, with a thickness of 9.7 millimeters. Google’s Pixel 11 Pro Fold is 239 grams and 10.1 millimeters.

Because the Duo is also wider than a standard iPhone, I found it quite a challenge to type.

I admit, I do have smaller-than-average hands. So I consulted my colleague Rolfe Winkler, who has a larger grip. He agreed the Duo feels big.

Apple rearranged the interface on the outer screen so it looks different than traditional iPhones. The dock and control center are off to the right to be more reachable. Committing to the Duo as your main device will require adjustments in your handling. You will have to learn a new way to use and type.

Work and play

My most surprising takeaway? I feel a pull toward this device.

I always thought that combining an iPhone and an iPad would mean bigger compromises. The battery life is about the same as the 18 Pro (up to 24 hours of “regular use” on a single charge), though I’ll need to verify that in my real-world testing. And it’s also as durable, with the same IP68 dust- and water-resistance rating as the rest of the iPhone lineup.

There are trade-offs, for sure. Trying out the camera, I immediately missed the 8X zoom in my Pro model. The Duo has just 2X zoom, which wouldn’t cut it for the dozens of pictures I take of my kid every day.

But the dual screens unlock new photo functionality. You can see what your shot looks like from the outside screen. As someone who has tried tirelessly to self-direct a family photo—or a spouse—I am very eager to try this out more.

Foldables, I initially thought, were for classic mobile-warrior jet-setter types, who never sit at a desk and are always on calls. For that crowd, the Duo can run two apps side-by-side.

Me, I’m more of a bed binge-watcher and ebook reader. That’s what my beloved iPad Mini is for.

Watching videos on the Duo is a nice experience—nice enough that you forget the screen is 0.7 inches smaller than the iPad Mini’s. The main screen is also a 4:3 aspect ratio. Very similar, by the way, to the IMAX edition of the Odyssey.

Because I wasn’t able to snag a ticket to one of the sold-out screenings, I will be watching Christopher Nolan’s version of Homer’s epic on the Duo, just as the director intended. (Just kidding! Sort of.)

The Duo costs $800 more than an iPhone 18 Pro, and I’m not sure I want to spend that premium on a first-generation Apple device. But I’m not ruling out the idea that a Duo might one day be in my future. Stay tuned for my full review.