Social Media is Your Choice
Adding myself to the number of Gen Z’ers straying away from the digital world
(No audio today—I lost my voice. I’ll come back and record another day.)
I’m back for another installation in the realm of smartphones and mental health—are you still with me?
Maybe it’s just me, but more and more people I know are leaning away from social media. Yes, I’m talking about this again—I may be talking about it until I leave social media entirely, save Substack, which seems to be a timeline that is increasingly shortening. I won’t drown you all with more commentary on why social media is generally terrible for our mental health and self-efficacy, or how it erodes our attention spans and desensitizes us to the beauty of the real world by bombarding us with a steady stream of addictive, flashy input. I went into all of that already, linked here, here, here, and here.
This post is for the people who already think that the points above are generally true, and are sick of it. This is for those of us who want to reclaim more of our attention and time, and who wonder what would happen if we retaught our brains not to rely on the instant gratification supplied by our little screens. This post is inspired heavily by Gabriela Nguyen’s recent guest post for Jonathan Haidt’s
(the author of The Anxious Generation), which I will include quotes from below. Nguyen, a Gen Z Harvard student, shares similar thoughts to mine when it comes to social media: “it’s simply not worth it.”Nguyen’s article is called “Gen Z, Social Media is Optional” and covers the all-too-common problem so many of us are having: the pressure to both have social media and keep up with the onslaught of content captured there. Many of us often want to get offline, but it’s hard: we fear missing out on what feels like urgent information or updates, or we worry we will be left behind somehow. Many of us can’t seem to make any “digital detox” last longer than a week or two, because the apps are designed to keep us there.
Nguyen’s solution, as I have seen more people arrive to as well lately, is to leave the rat race entirely. She coined the term “appstinence”, which is exactly what it sounds like—refraining from partaking in social media. On this, Nguyen writes:
“Appstinence has taught me an important lesson that I want to pass on to my peers. Moderation of platforms that are designed to hook you is more trouble than it’s worth. We must not forget that social media is optional.
I’m aware I’m in the minority, especially for Gen Z, but I can’t rationalize “moderate use.” “Balanced use” of powerful temptations requires indefinite maintenance to keep our habits in check and imposes a steep tax. Humans are limited by our biology; technology, on the other hand, can improve infinitely. It seems unfair and unrealistic to expect that I’ll suddenly be able to conjure more willpower, wisdom, and time. I do not think that I am an outlier who just has bad self-control. In fact, I know I’m not...”
She’s right, of course—those of us who struggle to simply not give in to the easy intrigue of looking at whatever so-and-so just posted are not outliers. Moderate use isn’t necessarily a winning option, as it still means that our attention spans are captive to the screen and our brains are always at least semi-tuned into the online world. For some people—let me stress once again—this does not feel like an issue. I’m talking to the people Nguyen is also talking to, from all generations: the ones who want to get off, but feel a weird sort of pressure to either stay on or who worry that we will “miss something” by leaving entirely. These are the people for whom moderate use isn’t working; the ones who are exhausted by the chaotic mental culture their smartphone has created; the ones who are curious about what would grow in their lives without social media.
I can speak directly to the point made about “moderate use”, as I actually feel that I’ve achieved it: I’m not an active social media user. I hardly post, I have a time limit on Instagram of 15 minutes per day (that I bypass 95% of the time), and I can talk myself out of being online if I really want to. The only notifications on my phone are for text messages and phone calls, and I routinely unfollow or “mute” people so I don’t automatically receive their content. So, yes, while I think I’ve nailed “moderate use”—it’s not cutting it. I’m still bothered by it. I still check my phone for messages far more than I need to. I still find myself scrolling for longer than I want to, pretending to care about things I don’t really care about, and continuing to “follow” influencers who influence me to feel bad. I don’t like being there—and yet, I’m still there.
Why haven’t I left?!
Here’s more of Nguyen’s rationale for becoming “appstinent”:
“I refuse to “hack my algorithm” and “detox” to justify the consumption of poison. Although I see the value of social media for spreading a message or running a business, for those of us who find ourselves drowning in rage bait and social comparison, it’s simply not worth it.”
So, for everyone here who wants to regain more control of your attention and take your life back from Meta into your own hands, remember: social media is optional. It’s not up to anyone else to decide for you (even if some governmental regulations for young children may be incredibly useful and protective).
Gabriela Nguyen gives us a 5-step framework for embarking on the Road to Appstinence that she calls the “5D Method.” The steps are as follows: Decrease, Deactivate, Delete, Downgrade, and Depart.
Even if you don’t intend to deactivate your accounts or get a flip phone, there are some great pieces of advice in Nguyen’s article for everyone. Reflecting on how and when your attention, time, and energy is zapped by your smartphone is undoubtedly useful, and we all deserve to feel like we are making a choice to be on social media instead of being there by default.
Nguyen instructs us first to prepare by writing down 3 lists: your fears of leaving social media (like FOMO), your reasons for why you are leaving, and realistic daily activities you enjoy and can do instead.
Here are mine:
Fears of leaving: that I will miss important announcements from friends; I’ll miss hearing about the lives of influencers I’ve grown interested in; I won’t hear about an inspiring idea or author or local event that I might really like going to
Reasons for leaving: I want to reclaim my attention from being captive to a small screen; I am curious about what will come in social media’s absence; Social media does not reflect my internal values
Activities I can do instead: read more (that’s a big one), call friends or family, go outside, relax without input (sounds hard)
Here’s the truth—my “fears” are not exactly fears, after all. What I really am concerned about by not being on social media is that by removing instant access to thinking about someone else’s life, I’ll be faced with my own thoughts and feelings. It’s so easy to think about someone else’s life when I’m three seconds away from their Instagram story: if I can’t do that, what will I think about instead? Will I be bored?!
For as much as that potential makes me nervous one moment, the next moment brings me relief and excitement. What will I think about, or do, or realize if I can’t just open a social media app to fill my brain? Where else might I find inspiration in the real world if I’m not staring downwards?
What a world of opportunity that opens up.
After preparing our lists, Nguyen then leads us into the “5D Method” process to ultimately leave social media entirely. You can read it in full, below.
In short, Nguyen tells us to start by Decreasing our intake, which includes unfollowing, unsubscribing (this includes those emails you always delete), and removing those pesky notifications. She advises that we spend more time on other activities, to get used to spend less time online. It is not a race, as Nguyen reminds us, and encourages us to go as slowly as will make this change actually sustainable for each of us—even if it takes a year.
The following steps are to Deactivate our accounts—starting with the one you use the least—eventually Delete those accounts (which they automatically do after a month), and repeat for all of the apps you wish to quit.
The final, optional two steps are to Downgrade (from a smartphone) and Depart, reflecting on the lists you made and considering what you’ve gained from the process of taking yourself off of social media. This is what I’m most interested in, and would be most curious about my answers.
I’ve been slowly arriving to the conclusion that social media robs me of my values: presence, attention, growth, and authentic connection. I’m well aware that many people do not feel this way, and that’s great. When I think about the life I want to be living, social media does nothing but distract me from doing things I deem more valuable and make my brain feel like it’s rotting. While I’m not becoming a nomad, or giving up TV or the internet, I am in the process of abandoning social media for the sake of a more connected, intentional life. I don’t want my brain tied to what’s happening online—I want it to be free to contemplate, observe, and think about what’s happening here, now, in my real world.
I may be months or a year from leaving Instagram entirely. I smell it in my future, but I’m in no huge rush. I want it to be sustainable and actually work—I don’t want to hop back on in a panic that I’m missing out on something. I am excited to be a part of a growing movement and number of my generation who are choosing to opt-out of social media.
It’s optional, after all.
Maggie