With smartphones tougher than ever, a new wave of phone minimalists say cases are for cowards. I joined the case-free cult, called the experts and braced for the sound of broken glass.

A few months ago I walked into an Apple store to buy a new iPhone. After sifting through models and upgrades, a cheerful salesperson told me the price came to $1,199 (£919). She laughed when I mentioned that's close to what I pay for a month's rent. "Crazy, isn't it?" she said. "Now let's look at some phone cases."

It felt like the obvious next step. But even as the cost of cell phones breaches the stratosphere, some seemingly reasonable consumers going a different route: they're walking around with their phones completely naked, moving through the concrete and the spills and the dust with no case, no screen protector, nothing. I know some of these people. Their phones are shiny, with titanium frames and carefully engineered glass on full display. They seem so happy and carefree. Is it all in my head? Is fear the only thing standing between me and case-free bliss?

"Come on man, just check out how this thing feels," a friend said to me couple of weeks later. A proud no-case guy, he handed me his iPhone. It was far more handsome without a case, and even better to hold. "They build phones tougher now. I drop it all the time, it's fine."

According to conversations I've had since then with glass manufacturers, die-hard anti-casers and people who get paid to damage phones on purpose, it seems he could be right. Experts agree: the modern smartphone is far more robust than its ancestors. Still, most people I know use protection. So who's the crazy one here?

I decided to find out. When I got home, I tore the case off my phone, threw it in a drawer and committed to a month of sweating through the case-free lifestyle. I pitched my editor a story about it. He liked the idea but assured me the BBC would not pay for repairs if my experiment goes sour. May God have mercy on my soul.

There's been a lot of discussion about how going caseless has become a status symbol for some who want to give off an air of class and confidence. When I interview tech executives and entrepreneurs, for example, phone cases are a rare sight.

"You're saying 'I can afford to replace this'. But it's not about appearances for me. I was a no-case guy even before my first startup," says Yousef Ali, chief executive of Blast Radio, a live audio platform for DJs. "For me it just seems nuts to have a $1,000 [£766] luxury device known for its material design and spend your day touching a $30 [£23] plastic case instead. It's like putting a vinyl cover on your couch to save the fabric. I have expensive pants too, should I wear an extra pair of pants to protect them? Where does it end?"

I won't pretend the first week without a phone case didn't leave me feeling, well, kind of cool. It's the lamest possible version of flirting with danger. But trends come and go. What I want is facts – ideally some harder than the ground I picture my phone careening towards.

If you're reading this on a mobile phone, you're probably looking through Gorilla Glass, a patented, smash-resistant technology made by a company called Corning. All the big-name phone manufacturers use Gorilla Glass or another Corning product for some or all of their screens, including Apple, Google, Huawei and Samsung. There are some exceptions for older phones and budget brands, but for the most part, Corning has the market cornered.

The Gorilla process starts with dipping glass in a bath of molten salt heated to 400C (752F). "The bath pulls smaller ions such as lithium out of the glass and swaps in larger ions such as potassium," says Lori Hamilton, Corning's director of technology for Gorilla Glass. "It creates this layer of compressive stress that makes it more difficult for flaws to penetrate through the glass." In other words, it squishes the glass together, making it less susceptible to damage.

Corning's research involves putting phones through ritualistic torture to study what goes wrong and how to prevent it. Phones face special glass scratching machines and go into tumblers with car keys to simulate pockets. Corning even collects phones busted by consumers in the wild to find unusual damage.

"Then we go through a CSI-type effort called........

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