Why I want the sensors of an Apple Watch without the screen


I love my Apple Watch, but I wish it wasn’t so smart. If I could design my ideal smartwatch, it would look super “dumb,” but elegant, and have all the sensors that the Apple Watch has.

I used to love it, but now I hate being always available

Sometimes I don’t want to know I got a text or email

I’ve grown up in the digital age, a time when everyone is reachable at all times. I, too, have been reachable at all times. Just about every job I’ve held, I had some form of work communication on my phone and would stay in touch with bosses or coworkers about work-related things throughout the day, even when I wasn’t on the clock—it’s just how the culture is.

In early 2025, I stopped wearing my Apple Watch at home, and it was one of the best decisions I had ever made. Later in 2025, I uninstalled “work” apps from my phone, like Slack and Asana. Both of those decisions completely changed my life. Why? Because I was finally in control again of who could contact me and when.

The problem is, I started working out for the first time in years toward the end of 2025, and that meant I was wearing my Apple Watch a lot more again. Sure, I still didn’t have those work apps on my phone, but I became “always available” in other ways again, and I hate it.

I use my Apple Watch for tracking fitness more than anything else

I started wearing my Apple Watch again, but only for fitness tracking

Apple Watch Series 8 tracking a traditional strength training workout. Credit: Tim Brookes / How-To Geek

While I started wearing my Apple Watch again for fitness reasons, wearing the Apple Watch still brings the same baggage with it—notifications, dings, taps, and feeling like you need to respond the moment your wrist vibrates.

While I know in my head that I don’t have to, the compulsion is still there. I know that I can turn off all notifications on the Apple Watch, and I have turned most off, but I keep things like text on because then I can see if my wife texts me.

If I wasn’t doing daily walks and tracking my steps, I wouldn’t be wearing my Apple Watch anymore, even when I leave the house. Sadly, years ago when I went all-in on Apple Watch, I left my traditional watches in the dust. I still have them, somewhere, but I don’t wear them—and I won’t go back to wearing them, either.

The fitness tracking capabilities of the Apple Watch are just too good not to use, and that’s a problem. Nothing really exists that integrates as deeply as the Apple Watch on the fitness side of things, but with the traditional design that I want.

My ideal smartwatch existed years ago, but was never perfected

The Withings ScanWatch 2 ticks almost all of my boxes

Withings has long made a normal-looking smartwatch that features a lot of health tracking capabilities, but it’s still a bit too techy for my liking if I’m going with a non-Apple Watch. The ScanWatch is a great piece of tech with a bit of elegant retro styling thanks to the manual dial face.

The problem is, it still has too much tech in it. There’s still a screen, which means that notifications will still be a problem. When it comes to tech, I’m an all or nothing kind of guy. If the tech is there to use, I’m going to use it.

So, my ideal smartwatch is something like a Withings ScanWatch 2, but with no digital screen. Fossil made the Grant Q, which is basically what I’m looking for, but the software support was never all that great.

I want Apple to tackle this, but I doubt they ever will. A smartwatch that has an elegant traditional face, no screen, but all the sensor tech that the Apple Watch offers is exactly what I want, but I’m afraid I’ll never get it.


More companies should focus on the watch experience

There was a time when companies focused more on the experience that you had with a product than they did on getting you addicted to the product itself. At one time, Facebook and Twitter (now X) had chronological timelines by default, instead of hiding these behind layers of menus. Those timelines allowed you to do what the sites were made for: keep up with friends.

Years ago, I would check my Twitter feed first thing in the morning by using a third-party app I was on the team for. The app would remember where you last were on the timeline, and then allow you to scroll to the present time. So, I would scroll through the people I followed, interact with them, and then move on with my day.

Now, the algorithms are designed to keep you hooked for hours on end, and smartwatches are just part of that formula. A smartwatch is more about how it can bring you back to your phone than just to be a way to tell time and track fitness metrics, and I really hope that changes someday.

  • Apple Watch Series 11

    Heart Rate Monitor

    Yes

    Color Screen

    Yes

    The Apple Watch Series 11 offers the ability to sense high blood pressure and a sleep score similar to many health app competitors.


  • Brand

    Withings

    Heart Rate Monitor

    Yes

    The Withings ScanWatch is a hybrid smartwatch with an array of smartphone-connected features.




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Do you ever walk past a person on the streets exhibiting mental health issues and wonder what happened to their family? I have a brother—or at least, I used to. I worry about where he is and hope he is safe. He hasn’t taken my call since 2014.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

When I was 13, I had a very bad day. I was in the back of the car, and what I remember most was the world-crushing sound violently panging off every surface: he was pounding his fists into the steering wheel, and I worried it would break apart. He was screaming at me and my mother, and I remember the web of saliva and tears hanging over his mouth. His eyes were red, and I knew this day would change everything between us. My brother was sick.

Nearly 20 years later, I still have trouble thinking about him. By the time we realized he was mentally ill, he was no longer a minor. The police brought him to a facility for the standard 72-hour hold, where he was diagnosed with paranoid delusional schizophrenia. Concluding he was not a danger to himself or others, they released him.

There was only one problem: at 18, my brother told the facility he was not related to us and that we were imposters. When they let him out, he refused to come home.

My parents sought help and even arranged for medication, but he didn’t take it. Before long, he disappeared.

My brother’s decline and disappearance had nothing to do with the common narratives about drug use or criminal behavior. He was sick. By the time my family discovered his condition, he was already 18 and legally independent from our custody.

The last time he let me visit, I asked about his bed. I remember seeing his dirty mattress on the floor beside broken glass and garbage. I also asked about the laptop my parents had gifted him just a year earlier. He needed the money, he said—and he had maxed out my parents’ credit card.

In secret from my parents, I gave him all the cash I had saved. I just wanted him to be alright.

My parents and I tried texting and calling him; there was no response except the occasional text every few weeks. But weeks turned into months.

Before long, I was graduating from high school. I begged him to come. When I looked in the bleachers, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done wrong.

The last time I heard from him was over the phone in 2014. I tried to tell him about our parents and how much we all missed him. I asked him to be my brother again, but he cut me off, saying he was never my brother. After a pause, he admitted we could be friends. Making the toughest call of my life, I told him he was my brother—and if he ever remembers that, I’ll be there, ready for him to come back.

I’m now 32 years old. I often wonder how different our lives would have been if he had been diagnosed as a minor and received appropriate care. The laws in place do not help families in my situation.

My brother has no social media, and we suspect he traded his phone several years ago. My family has hired private investigators over the years, who have also worked with local police to try to track him down.

One private investigator’s report indicated an artist befriended my brother many years ago. When my mother tried contacting the artist, they said whatever happened between them was best left in the past and declined to respond. My mom had wanted to wish my brother a happy 30th birthday.

My brother grew up in a safe, middle-class home with two parents. He had no history of drug use or criminal record. He loved collecting vintage basketball cards, eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, and listening to Motown music. To my parents, there was no smoking gun indicating he needed help before it was too late.

The next time you think about a person screaming outside on the street, picture their families. We need policies and services that allow families to locate and support their loved ones living with mental illness, and stronger protections to ensure that individuals leaving facilities can transition into stable care. Current laws, including age-based consent rules, the limits of 72-hour holds, and the lack of step-down or supported housing options, leave too many families without resources when a serious diagnosis occurs.

Governments and lawmakers need to do better for people like my brother. As someone who thinks about him every day, I can tell you the burden is too heavy to carry alone.

James Finney-Conlon is a concerned brother and mental health advocate. He can be reached at [email protected].



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