I spent 5 years trying to love foldables — here’s why I’m finally quitting
The Honeymoon Phase: A Five-Year Journey Through Foldable Innovation
We entered the foldable smartphone market with an almost religious fervor. The initial launch of the Samsung Galaxy Fold in 2019 was not merely a product release; it was a paradigm shift. We watched the keynotes, analyzed the engineering, and camped out for pre-orders. The promise was intoxicating: a device that combined the portability of a smartphone with the utility of a tablet. For five years, we dutifully upgraded, tolerated the compromises, and championed the form factor to anyone who would listen. We bought into the vision of a seamless, crease-free future.
We started with the original Fold, a device that felt like a fragile prototype despite its premium price tag. We endured the plastic screen protector that peeled off, the noticeable crease that distorted content, and the narrow cover screen that made typing a chore. Yet, we forgave these flaws because the novelty of unfolding a 7.3-inch display was unlike anything else on the market. We carried the device with a sense of pride, knowing we were early adopters of the next big thing in mobile technology.
As the years progressed, we moved through the Galaxy Z Fold 2, the Z Fold 3, and eventually the Z Fold 4. With each iteration, the hardware improved. The hinge became more durable, the crease became less prominent, and the cover screen became wider and more usable. We witnessed the introduction of IPX8 water resistance and S Pen support. We watched competitors like Motorola and Huawei enter the fray, offering their own interpretations of the foldable concept. We convinced ourselves that we were on an upward trajectory, that the minor annoyances of today would be solved by the innovations of tomorrow. We believed that the foldable was the inevitable endpoint of smartphone evolution.
However, looking back over these five years, a clear pattern emerges. While the hardware iterated, the fundamental user experience remained largely stagnant. The trade-offs we accepted in 2019 are remarkably similar to the trade-offs we accept today in 2024. The shine of the novelty has officially worn off, revealing the persistent, unyielding friction points of the form factor. We have reached a point where the cumulative weight of these compromises finally outweighs the fleeting utility of the large inner screen.
The Persistent Burden of Hardware Compromises
The physical reality of owning a foldable is a constant negotiation with physics and materials science. While marketing materials portray these devices as sleek and futuristic, the daily handling tells a different story.
The Unavoidable Weight and Bulk
We have become acutely aware of the mass we carry. A modern foldable, such as the Galaxy Z Fold 5, weighs approximately 253 grams. Compare this to a standard flagship like the iPhone 15 Pro Max (221 grams) or the Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra (232 grams). On paper, the difference seems marginal—perhaps 30 to 40 grams. In the hand, however, the difference is profound. The foldable is not just heavier; it is denser. The distribution of weight, concentrated in a thicker chassis, creates a sensation of heft that never fully disappears.
When placed in a pocket, the device creates a noticeable bulge. It is too wide to fit comfortably in most jeans pockets when folded, and when unfolded, it is essentially unwearable in a pocket at all. We find ourselves constantly aware of its presence, a brick of glass and metal that demands attention. For a form factor that is ostensibly designed for portability, the physical burden it imposes is ironic. We carry a device that promises to be a pocketable tablet, yet it struggles to be a comfortable pocketable phone.
Durability Anxiety and Fragility
Despite the marketing claims of “Armor Aluminum” and “Victus 2 Glass,” the psychological barrier of fragility remains. We treat foldables with a caution we do not extend to slab phones. The inner screen is a polymer composite, significantly softer than traditional glass. It scratches with fingernails, dents with pocket lint, and creates a lingering anxiety every time we unfold it.
We have internalized the stories of the early Fold models failing due to debris entering the hinge. While the engineering has improved, the fundamental vulnerability persists. A drop from waist height on a slab phone might result in a cracked screen protector or a scuffed frame. The same drop on a foldable could result in a catastrophic failure of the inner display or a misalignment of the hinge mechanism. The cost of repair is astronomical, often exceeding half the value of the device. We live with a low-level hum of anxiety, handling the device with white gloves, terrified of the day the inner screen inevitably fails. This is not the liberating experience technology should be; it is a burden.
The Crease: The Elephant in the Room
For five years, we have been told that the crease is invisible. “You stop noticing it after a while,” the reviewers say. We disagree. The crease is a constant physical and visual disruption. It catches light at oblique angles, creating a glare that distorts content. It creates a tactile ridge that is impossible to ignore when scrolling or drawing with a stylus.
We have analyzed the engineering of every hinge revision. We have watched the crease flatten incrementally, but it remains. In 2024, we are still looking at our screens through a valley of optics. When viewing dark backgrounds, reading text, or watching videos in landscape mode, the crease remains a focal point. It breaks the immersion. For a device whose primary selling point is a large, uninterrupted canvas, the permanent physical crease is a fundamental contradiction. It is a scar on the display, a reminder that this is not a single sheet of glass but two separate panels hinged together.
The Software Struggle: A Tablet in a Phone’s Clothing
Hardware is only half the battle. For the foldable experience to be cohesive, the software must seamlessly adapt to the changing form factors. After five years of Android updates, we find the software experience to be fragmented and inconsistent.
App Optimization: The “Black Bar” Epidemic
The promise of the foldable was a canvas for productivity and creativity. The reality is a graveyard of unoptimized applications. When we unfold the device, we are often presented with a large screen with massive black bars framing a phone-sized app. Developers have been slow to adopt responsive design for foldables.
Major applications like Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and many banking apps remain stretched versions of their phone interfaces. They do not utilize the extra real estate for multi-pane layouts or additional information. Instead, they simply scale up, making the UI elements larger and harder to reach. We find ourselves constantly toggling between “full screen” and “aspect ratio” settings to force apps to behave correctly. This administrative overhead detracts from the seamless experience we were promised. The inner screen often feels like wasted potential, a 7.6-inch display reduced to running a blown-up version of a mobile app.
The App Continuity Gap
The transition between the cover screen and the inner screen is the defining interaction of a foldable. We expect it to be fluid. In practice, it is often jarring. We unfold the device to view a map or a document, only for the app to restart or redraw the interface completely.
While Samsung’s “App Continuity” feature has improved, it is not flawless. Certain apps refuse to resume where they left off, forcing us to wait for a reload. This interruption breaks the flow of thought. We open the phone to read an article, and we are met with a loading screen. In a world where instant gratification is the standard, this friction is unacceptable. We want the screen to expand, not for the application to reboot.
Multitasking: More Theory Than Practice
Foldables are marketed as multitasking powerhouses. We are shown demos of three apps running simultaneously, resizing windows, and dragging and dropping content. We have attempted to integrate this into our daily workflow. The reality is that multitasking on a foldable screen is cramped.
Trying to manage three windows on a 7.6-inch display results in a cluttered, chaotic interface. The text becomes small, and the touch targets shrink. It is a productivity theater rather than a productivity tool. If we truly need to multitask, we reach for a tablet or a laptop. The foldable screen sits in an awkward middle ground: too small for serious multi-window work and too large for simple one-handed tasks. We found that 95% of our usage remained single-app focused, negating the primary software advantage of the device.
The Battery Life and Performance Deficit
The physics of the foldable design imposes a tax on performance and endurance. We have consistently observed that foldables struggle to match the battery life of their slab counterparts in the same price tier.
Power Consumption of Dual Displays
A foldable phone effectively powers two screens: a high-refresh-rate cover display and a larger inner display. While the inner screen is often used for more battery-intensive tasks like gaming or video streaming, the cover screen still consumes power during quick checks and notifications.
We have found that the battery endurance of a foldable is rarely sufficient to last a full, heavy day of use. The 4,400mAh to 5,000mAh batteries inside these devices are forced to drive more pixels and power more screen area than standard phones. Even with aggressive battery optimization, we end the day with single-digit percentages, inducing “battery anxiety.” We carry power banks more frequently with foldables than with any other form factor.
Thermal Throttling and Heat Dissipation
The compact nature of a foldable presents significant challenges for heat management. When the device is folded, the internal components are sandwiched tightly, limiting the surface area for heat dissipation. When unfolded, the heat is spread across a larger chassis, but the thermal pathways are complex.
During extended gaming sessions or 4K video recording, we notice the device gets uncomfortably hot. The heat is often concentrated near the camera module and the hinge area. To prevent overheating, the system aggressively throttles the CPU and GPU performance. We experienced frame drops and lag in graphic-intensive games, performance that is unacceptable for a flagship-priced device. The thin chassis of a foldable simply cannot dissipate heat as effectively as a thicker, standard smartphone.
The Economic Reality: Depreciation and Repair Costs
The financial implications of owning a foldable are severe. The initial purchase price is high, the depreciation is rapid, and the repair costs are prohibitive.
The Early Adopter Tax
We paid a premium to be at the forefront of technology. Foldables typically start at $1,800, significantly higher than top-tier slab phones. However, the value retention of these devices is abysmal. Within one year, the resale value of a foldable can drop by 50% or more. The market perceives foldables as niche, fragile items with a limited lifespan.
When we tried to sell our two-year-old foldables, the offers were disheartening. Buyers are wary of the long-term durability of the hinge and the inner screen. The rapid iteration cycle also renders older models obsolete quickly, as the hardware improvements in newer models (better hinges, less visible creases) make previous generations less desirable.
The Nightmare of Repair Costs
The true financial terror of owning a foldable lies in the repair costs. If the inner screen breaks, it is rarely a simple screen replacement. Because the screen, digitizer, and hinge are integrated into a single, expensive module, the cost of repair is astronomical.
Replacing the inner display on a Galaxy Z Fold 5, for example, costs nearly $600 without warranty. If the hinge is damaged, the cost is similar. We have heard countless stories of users being quoted prices that exceed 50% of the device’s original value for a single crack. Accidental Damage Protection (ADP) plans are mandatory for foldable owners, adding a significant monthly subscription cost to an already expensive device. This creates a walled garden where only those who can afford extensive insurance or high repair fees can safely own the device.
The Mental Shift: Realizing the Trade-Offs Are Permanent
After five years, we have moved past the excitement of the hardware and evaluated the reality of the utility. We realized that we were optimizing our digital life to fit the device, rather than having the device fit our lives.
The “When Unfolded” Workflow Paradox
We asked ourselves: how often do we actually need a tablet-sized screen in our pocket? The answer, after honest self-reflection, was “rarely.”
We unfolded the device for media consumption, but found that the crease and the narrow aspect ratio (21.6:18) made watching widescreen video a compromise, with massive letterboxing. We unfolded it for reading, but the weight of the device made one-handed reading tiring. We unfolded it for productivity, but as noted, the screen was too small for serious work and too big for casual use.
We found ourselves reverting to the cover screen for 80% of our tasks. When this realization struck, the logic of the foldable collapsed. Why carry a heavy, fragile, 250g brick that unfolds into a compromised tablet, when we could carry a sleek, durable, 180g slab that does 90% of the tasks just as well? We realized we were paying a premium for a capability we rarely utilized.
The Simplicity of the Slab
There is a profound relief in returning to a standard smartphone. The lack of a hinge eliminates a mechanical point of failure. The glass slab is rigid, durable, and predictable. The camera modules are flush (mostly), and the weight is manageable.
We no longer worry about pocket lint destroying our screen. We no longer hesitate before tossing the phone onto a table. We no longer check for battery percentage every hour. The slab phone, while less “exciting,” is a perfected tool. It is the result of 15 years of refinement, offering a seamless, frictionless experience that the foldable has yet to match.
The Wait for a True Evolution
We are not quitting the concept of foldables entirely; we are quitting the current generation. The trade-offs—the weight, the crease, the fragility, the software fragmentation—have remained stubbornly high for five years. The marginal gains in hinge design and slightly reduced crease visibility are not enough to justify the massive compromises.
We believe that the foldable form factor will eventually succeed, but it requires a fundamental breakthrough in materials science. We need flexible glass that is truly glass-like in durability and feel. We need a crease-less hinge mechanism. We need battery technology that can power dual 120Hz displays for two days. Until these fundamental physics problems are solved, the foldable will remain a niche product for enthusiasts willing to tolerate significant inconvenience.
Conclusion: A Farewell to the Fold
We spent five years and thousands of dollars chasing the dream of the foldable future. We defended the form factor, ignored the flaws, and upgraded with every release. But the honeymoon is over. The data from our daily usage shows a clear trend: the utility of the large screen does not justify the penalties of the form factor.
The weight is too heavy, the battery life is too short, the repair costs are too high, and the software experience is too fragmented. We are quitting foldables not because they failed, but because the slab phone has become so good that the foldable’s advantages have shrunk to a niche sliver of utility.
We are returning to the simplicity of the standard smartphone. We choose reliability over novelty. We choose durability over fragility. We choose comfort over bulk. We are finally, officially, quitting the foldable experiment. The future may be flexible, but for now, our pockets are better served by solid ground.