I Quit Social Media But Still Over-Consume The Internet

The problem with too much information and too many options.

I wrote about how I quit Instagram a few months ago, linked here. That decision has held, and I have not thought of returning. What a surprise, I don’t need it.

So, yes, I left social media, and yet I’m still finding ways to over-consume content on the internet.

As with any kind of addiction or compulsion, we often replace one thing with another similar thing. Hence why the term “dry drunk” exists: A “Dry Drunk” is a person who is not drinking alcohol but still behaves as an addict does, having exchanged drinking for another kind of habit that serves the same purpose. I have known some addicts to become hooked on ice cream, or video games, or nicotine, after giving up more illicit substances: the compulsion to attempt to satisfy our compulsions can be an extremely strong current within us.

While quitting social media has effectively cured me of scrolling through videos and of comparing myself to Instagram models, now you can catch me poring through Reddit threads, advice columns, and listicles about the latest thing I think I should be doing, thinking, buying, or wanting. The compulsion I am still dealing with post social media is that of consuming too much information and too many opinions from strangers, in the name of “making informed decisions”.

Case in point: I’ve been swimming laps for a while now, and last week I spent nearly an hour and a half researching where to find the perfect ear plugs and techniques to prevent swimmer’s ear. Once I found myself reading online horror stories about people damaging their eardrums, I snapped out of it. A few days prior to this, I finally ordered a new bathing suit after spending another two cumulative hours researching which one was going to fit right and last longest, then moving onto which color would be right, then…you get the point. Instead of going to REI and picking from what was available on the rack, I spent 3.5 hours on the internet.

If this sounds crazy to you, you’re right. But I know I’m not alone.

We have access to too much information and too many options. Everyone on the internet is trying to sell us something—an idea, an opinion, another useless nutritional supplement or time-saving gadget—and there is simply too much to realistically sift through. Through the sheer amount of options available, we have been conditioned to feel like we not only have to do everything perfectly by making the right choices and believing the right things, but that we can do everything perfectly—that it is actually possible to make the “right” choices and believe the “right” things. We have been taught that it is important and noble to want to be the healthiest, most ethical, most sustainable, most socially aware, most authentic consumers we can be—and how else do we do that than by finding and listening to the most correct people on the internet?

It is, of course, advertising at its finest.

When I was using social media, I was constantly informed by people I don’t know that what’s in my food is all bad (so I must only buy the brands that are actually—no, actually—dedicated to sourcing the purest ingredients), that my water and air are polluted (so I must buy the best filters), that the news I read is actually a lie (so listen to these truth-tellers, damn it), that much of what I thought I knew about any assortment of topics is, in fact, wrong.

Although deleting Instagram has meant I’m not as advertised to, I still have been conditioned by the idea that someone else has the answers I seek, and that all I have to do is look hard enough to find that “right” answer. I’ve become convinced that there actually is a “right” answer all the time, despite my wiser self knowing otherwise. How did I become so worried about making mistakes—even one as inconsequential as buying some shitty ear plugs?

The problem with the number of options we have to choose from, as well as our ability to read millions of opinions on the internet about what we should choose, is that it crowds out our own opinions. Our own opinions are typically formed through trying things and seeing what happens—out in the Real World. Developing our own opinions requires experimentation, which sometimes leads to failure and sometimes leads to success.

Children learn best through trial and error and experimentation—not from being told, “because I told you so”. The same is true for adults. Figuring things out requires messing up, failing, testing out theories, observing patterns, buying the wrong thing, trying again a different way. Knowing what we believe and what we want means we’ve somehow got to figure out what we don’t believe, what we don’t want.

We don’t need more advice from the internet about how to solve our problems or make our decisions. We don’t need to read more opinions about what vacuum is the most durable, which protein bar the most ethical.

It certainly would be a whole lot easier if there were fewer options to choose from, in general. As this is not the case, we have to do the heavy lifting ourselves by not caring as much about whether we got it “right”. We must stop caring so much about getting the right products, having the right opinions, being on the right side, fitting in with the right crowd. We must value more the art of trying and figuring things out for ourselves, along with our actual living communities, rather than outsourcing to the internet or getting lost in the ocean of options we have to choose from. Forget researching the ethics of protein bars—which one tastes good to you?

Following our taste buds, our interests, and what we are drawn to will take us much further than hours online conducting “research”. Experimenting with different ideas and making mistakes is what shapes us, makes us who we are. The process of trying and failing and trying again helps us figure out what we want, what we value and believe in.

That sounds like true authenticity to me.

Here’s to choosing from what’s on the rack,

Maggie