Awaiting an appointment yesterday without any social media to distract me on my phone, I found myself watching the waiting room television. You know the one, awkardly perched, unecessarily high in the corner. It was tuned to the local news and what disturbed me most wasn’t what the anchors were discussing, but the political advertisements during commercial breaks. They attacked their opponents in very derivative and elementary ways, using language clearly meant to trigger an impulsive reaction. It is as if they see voters as uneducated or unarticulate enough to see right through what they are doing. Otherwise, surely they would use a more high brow approach to sway opinions. Do they not respect their constituency?
Reactivity has taken over our culture and it is to our detriment.
I’ve never really thought of Twitter/X as a toxic space because of how tailored my feed was, but I won’t deny that reactivity is the currency there. Although I have pulled away from political debates, I am aware that it is a platform rife with poisionous confrontations on the matter. Overwhelmingly, they are unproductive and do not effect any change. They are a waste of time for those involved and a misuse of something which I still argue can be leveraged for the greater good, whether or not I am an active user. They seem to me, a misuse of online space.
As I took my coffee break this afternoon, I let my mind wander a bit more deeply into this problem of misusing online spaces. From my own experience, the periods of my life where I have been most online and engaged most frequently with content are periods of higher than usual stress, anxiety, or depression. I used social media as a way to deflect what I was really feeling. It was an escape, a way to be blissfully ignorant, even if just for a moment. When I disconnected from what was inside of me, it only perpetuated the problem. Even recently, I’ve been reactive to things I see on social media. Whether I post about it or not, my mind’s immediate response might be something negative, sneakily easing me into a state of further anxiety. Thus, worsening the problem.
Whether or not I react publicly is beside the point. I’ve still filled my mind with something that could cause a pessimistic emotion. The rule applies: positive content in, positive energy out. Negative content in, negative energy out.
Daily habits like meditating and journalling serve me so well. I can only imagine how much further down the rabbit hole I’d be if I didn’t have these ways to restore my psyche. Both help me put my thoughts in order and develop more profoundly how I feel about the world and what I believe to be my truths. Taking solitude, especially when I have felt lonely or overwhelmed, has always been the catalyst for getting my house in order and adopting healthier habits.
Seeking validation and friendships from people online can only take you so far.
It seems to me that many of us use our devices as a substitute for what we feel is lacking in our lives. We find solace in them because it is easy, they are always available and never refute our cognitive dissonance. Even in removing social media as a distraction, I find I am replacing at least some of that time with YouTube or perusing Substack or reading the news, which are arguably a bit better but does not constitute me becoming more offline, which is the endgame.
The solution seems to revolve around finding satisfying work, tangible adventure, and new social connections in the real-world.
Even diving into fresh, interesting subjects or starting new creative projects; something I can dig my hands into, would feel so good. I can blame my prosaic day job and drift the days aimlessly away reading new books and writing about whatever my current preoccupation is until I land something more fulfilling, but it still comes down to how I use my time: I am forever the architect of my own life, without exception. Getting off social media for extended periods of time always reveals that my life is lacking substance and that I am using it to ignore some deeper need.
To keep quiet is to allow yourself to believe that you have no opinions, that you want nothing and in certain cases it amounts to really wanting nothing…From the moment the rebel finds his voice - even though he has nothing to say but no - he begins to consider things in particular. He chooses what is preferable to what is not. Not every value leads to rebellion, but every rebellion invokes a value.
-Albert Camus, “The Rebel”
As I pick up Camus’, “The Rebel” this week, I am moved to rebel against the all-too socially acceptable ways myself and others like me misuse the internet while avoiding our deeper needs. As the trajectory of online content trends toward lower brow, less nuanced , more reactive content, I want to aspire to something greater: where I choose to deepen my real-world pursuits of what is innately interesting, make new real-world connections, and get creative about where to find a little more adventure.
Eventually, the online world will seem far less serious or compelling.