Words by Emmy Knapp PZ ’27, Graphic by Izzy Leake PZ ’27

“4 p.m. on Fridays at the stump on Marston Quad.” 

This was all the information I had before showing up to the Claremont 

Luddite Club, a group notoriously hard to track down due to their intentional lack of an online presence. Neither Instagram post nor email, the normal modes for contemporary club communications, confirmed that day’s 

meeting. 

When I arrived at Marston Quad, I 

spotted someone sitting on a large stump next to a large plastic tote filled to the brim with board games, spikeball, frisbees, and art supplies. “Is this where the Luddite Club meets?” I asked. “Yes!” She responded, and we waited for the others to arrive. 

Around the country, Luddite Clubs are popping up as phone-free 

environments dedicated to forging practical relationships with technology. This past spring, a group of students founded the Claremont branch of the Luddite Club. According to their website, which members only begrudgingly created, their mission is to “inspire adolescents to form healthier relationships with their technology. We are not an anti-tech club,” the website reads. “We are a pro-talking, painting, laughing, reading, existing club. We are reminding ourselves and each other that life is continuing each day, and we must not let our phones keep us from missing it.” 

The term “Luddite” comes from the legend of Ned Ludd, a young English apprentice who, after the introduction of automated machinery propelled his exploitative working conditions, smashed a knitting frame with a hammer and fled to the woods. Though more folkloric than fact, Ludd became the symbol of a movement where, from 1811 to 1816, factory workers destroyed new automated machinery that replaced their labor, suppressed their wages, and threatened their livelihoods overall. Their crusade briefly advanced workers’ rights but was ultimately quelled by state military force and executions.

Today, the Luddite movement is reemerging in what many are beginning to call the “Luddite Renaissance.” As student Luddite clubs are becoming increasingly popular, the movement has broadened to include gig workers, creatives, and employees displaced by AI.

This past September, New York City hosted a S.H.I.T.P.H.O.N.E (Scathing Hatred of Information Technology and the Passionate Hemorrhaging of Our Neoliberal Experience). There, many protesters of Big Tech and Silicon Valley donned paper gnome hats, an homage to the folkloric icon, Ned Ludd. 

Luddites are taking matters into their own hands back in Claremont. Adelina Grotenhuis PO ‘28, one of the club’s organizers, had arrived and laid out blankets for members to sit on. More members began to arrive, having already locked their phones in cars or rooms, or simply stored them in bags and back pockets. 

After we kicked off our shoes and sat in a circle, Grotenhuis started the conversation. “Is technology a form of life? And if so, is it neutral?” The club descended into discussion. Other questions included, “If technology is related to power and privilege, then does technology itself determine values?” and “How do you see your relationship with technology in a year from now?” 

Of the latter question, most members’ answers were something along the lines of “smartphone-free.” We discussed how to make that happen and why it would be difficult. One member talked about paying off his iPhone while at the same time signing up for a new plan with his flipphone, or what many Luddites are calling their “dumbphones.” 

Grotenhuis brought the discussion back together with a final, “How can we make sure we’re using tech and it’s not using us?” Kaitlyn Ulalisa PO ’28, one of the club’s founding members, spoke to the inspiration behind the club.

“I used to be as much of a screenager as you can get. I’d always had a push and pull relationship with social media. I decided to permanently delete all social media apps at the beginning of my freshman year at Pomona. I wanted to get my life back. So when I stumbled upon the New York Times article on the original club in Brooklyn, which was the inspiration for the 5C chapter, I was ecstatic.”

Abhi Namala PZ ’27, another of the founding members, found himself in a similar position. 

“At the time, I was in my scrolling addiction phase,” Namala said. “I was not in a great mental space. The amount of screen time I had was unhealthy, and I wasn’t happy. I realized at that moment that the short-term gratification was not worth it.” 

Ulalisa and Namala’s stories are like so many others, and emphasize the importance of community in making the change. 

“I think the community that the Luddite Club has created is vital to this vision,” Ulalisa said. “To meaningfully move away from the addictive agendas of many of the apps all of us use, a community of people with the same vision in mind is paramount.” 

The club itself is grappling with how

 to have effective outreach while remaining true to their Luddite mission. For their very first meeting last spring, Namala and Ulalisa handed out 20 handwritten notes to people around campus. 

“At the club fair we got like 200 emails. And we were like, ‘We’re not emailing anyone,’ because if you wanted to be there, you would make the mental note and you would be there,” Namala told me. Since then, the club has mostly relied on word of mouth and has even garnered attention on Fizz, an unlikely partner to forge amidst a mission of authentic offline connection. 

Luddite Club also partners with many groups around campus. Last spring, the Luddites collaborated with Claremont Salsa Club and attracted a crowd of nearly 70 people. The club has also collaborated with student bands and artists, including the Pomona Farm and the Hopscotch Club, and is making plans for future collaborations. 

Completely unplugging from smartphones isn’t reasonable for everyone. Most Luddite clubs are led by students and youth within academic institutions who are able to carve time out of their schedules. Social media, user-generated content, and participatory culture define the social internet and are considered not as luxuries, but as basic utilities required for work, healthcare, navigation, and communication. Many adults, working families, and small business owners have smartphones inextricably embedded in their daily lives. That’s why the Claremont Luddite Club is putting its mission into action in the community.

“So far we’ve spoken at Harrison Elementary School and have plans to speak at the Oakwood Outdoor School soon,” explains Namala. At Harrison, Namala emphasized that they weren’t there to give parenting advice, but rather create an open conversation about kids and their tech use. 

After the talk, Harrison Elementary parents exchanged numbers and started talking about having Luddite hang outs among their kids. “We spoke to parents directly, and it was very eye-opening. I was talking to the parents who were like, ‘We work 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. some days. We can’t just go get a flip phone. It’s not feasible. We need it for our work. We need to be updated with our kids, and if we get our kids a flip phone there would be social consequences.’”  

The Claremont Luddites are also in the middle of starting an internship program with Generation Remix, a Bay Area non-profit dedicated to providing leadership programs, mentorship, and resources to empower youth in digital wellbeing. 

Between talks at local schools and partnerships with organizations, the club’s key focus remains local to the Claremont Colleges. “I would love for the culture that we have created in the weekly club gatherings to continue for students outside the meetings; for students who are a part of the club to create lasting changes to how they engage with their tech — and in turn inspire others  too,” explained Ulalis. “Thinking long term, I would love for the culture that we have created in the Luddite club to become the culture of the students at the 5Cs as a whole – for a club like this to dissolve.”