It is almost four o’clock in the morning. As a woman in my late 40s, I have become prone to waking at this witching hour, as the early sunlight meets the night, sliding across the earth like a red tide. With the rest of my household asleep, and still half in and out of wakefulness myself, I take hold of my phone. With scarcely a thought, I switch from one app to another, scrolling through images and opinions and adverts for no discernible reason beyond habit.

Later, I head for my office and open my laptop to a slew of half-completed documents and an inbox brimming with emails. My stress levels begin to nudge upwards. I have vague memories of what my professional life felt like before smartphones and video calls. I used to do my writing by hand.…