Here's a sentence that would have made zero sense 20 years ago: the ability to turn off your phone is now a premium experience. Yet that's exactly the business model a cluster of startups is betting on, and according to Business Insider, it's working.
The math is simple but stark. Some 53% of Americans reported wanting to cut down on screen time this year, according to a survey by data management firm Harmony Healthcare IT. When half the country is experiencing digital fatigue, you've got yourself a market. These companies are building businesses around helping people do what should be easy but somehow isn't anymore—putting down their phones and connecting with actual humans in real life.
Secret Shows and Unexpected Romance
Take Sofar Sounds, which hosts intimate concerts by emerging artists at locations that remain secret until shortly before showtime. The original pitch was simple: discover new music without an algorithm telling you what to like. But something unexpected happened along the way.
"We didn't set out intending to be necessarily a singles thing," Sofar CEO Warren Webster told Business Insider. Turns out people weren't just looking for new favorite bands—they were looking for new favorite people. About a year ago, the company leaned into this discovery and started hosting concerts specifically designed for singles to meet.
The singles concerts are "just indicative of the moment that we're in," Webster explained. People are craving genuine connection just as much as they're craving good music, and that combination has proven surprisingly powerful for Sofar's in-person events.
Disconnection as Active Choice
Andrew Roth, founder of Offline, has noticed the same hunger for real-world interaction. His platform connects interest-based communities with brand sponsors, creating physical spaces where people can meet face-to-face while brands reach their target audiences in more meaningful ways.
"Going offline for a week is now the biggest investment you can do and the most luxurious thing you can do, because you can, because it's an active choice you're able to make," Roth told Business Insider.
That ability to choose disconnection, he argues, is increasingly becoming a status symbol. But his goal is democratizing access to that luxury. Stepping away from screens "ends up transitioning into a more culturally wide opportunity in terms of accessing that quote-un-quote luxury," he said. "That's what [Offline's] communities are trying to do is create more of the access for that in different ways that don't require you to take a one-week vacation to Hawaii."
Lock Up Your Phone, Meet Real People
Kanso takes the concept even further by making phone separation mandatory. At their physical gatherings, attendees actually lock their devices up and spend several hours meeting new people and deepening existing friendships without the distraction of notifications buzzing in their pockets.
Founder Randy Ginsburg frames it not as restriction but as opportunity. Instead of dwelling on the downsides of excessive screen time, the company offers positive alternatives to doomscrolling and helps attendees "meet people worth putting your phone down for."
Ginsburg sees parallels between digital detox and other wellness choices people make—both require similar levels of intentionality and, frankly, privilege. "People require various degrees of education, accountability, and support to put [healthy] practices into their lives," he told Business Insider. "I think the same thing is very much true of our relationship with technology and our phones."
Dinner With Strangers, For a Fee
Then there's Timeleft, which approaches the problem from a different angle. The app organizes dinners for groups of strangers, charging users a $19.99 subscription fee plus the cost of their meal. That financial commitment, some users argue, creates a filter that ensures everyone at the table is genuinely interested in making connections.
"These people are all open to making a new friend," Timeleft user Yumi Temple told Business Insider. "They're prepared to put the energy and time in to make that work."
For Temple, the platform has been transformative for her social life, filling a void that previous generations might not have experienced as acutely. "Our generation has so many fewer institutions than previous ones," she explained. "I don't necessarily think in person as the meeting point or introduction to another person is more special, I think it's just about whatever the catalyzing thing that had you to meet."
What she's describing is the disappearance of "third places"—those informal gathering spots beyond home and work where communities traditionally formed. Timeleft and its fellow disconnect-economy startups are essentially building commercial versions of what coffeehouses, bowling alleys, and community centers once provided for free.
The irony, of course, is that we're using apps and paying subscription fees to escape apps and digital life. But if that's what it takes to get people talking to each other over dinner instead of staring at their screens, maybe the economics make sense after all.