Disconnecting to connect? Ideas on Digital Detox

Since the birth of the internet, we have found our lives increasingly interwind in its facilitaties of communication and information sharing. We have celebrated the new and easier ways it has allowed us to communicate; the miracle of the phone-call enabling the actual voice of individuals to travel incredible distances, the magic of the email making instant the previously timely process of posting letters, the online platforms that now allow us to broadcast posts to more people than we might have known in a lifetime before the internet. Where in the past, my father -when overseas studying- was only able to communicate to my mother and his family through the occasional letter, and crucial information- such as the deaths of family, or friends- were received only weeks later within the stale context of a letter, today, digitally mediated communication has made the world a smaller and more easily connected place; conquering much of the time/space constraints so we are able to communicate with one another on a large scale and global level, instantly.

There’s no denying the positive impact of digital technologies in our lives. However, there are negative sentiments involved in its approach as well. The idea of digital detox, which emerged from 2007, insinuated it an illness that required a cure, and while this idea is one some have rejected as yet another commercial construct of society (Jurgenson 2013), the implication of our lives as overly dependent and over mediated by the digital is still something to be wary of.

For the purpose of this article I will focus on social media. These platforms have allowed us to stay connected to friends, families, and the world; broadcasting statuses, ideas, creativity or inspirations within its frame of facilitating software and technological features. But as we increasingly merge our lives within its details of tweets and status updates, accustoming ourselves to its features of ranking, liking, and sharing, and adapting to the ‘louder’ nature of buzzfeed articles shouting to be heard within the clickbait culture of this attention economy. As distinctions blur between the public and intimate, between work and home, it becomes important to be more mindful of one’s values, and to remember that these platforms are the constructs of a larger system at play- one with very different motives from us. And when it becomes more an assortment of advertisements between snippets of text, then perhaps you know the commercial motives have won.

Van Dijck talks about an invisible layer of codes, regarded to critics as the ‘black-boxed influencer of sociality (2013),’ which seems to place the individual much like a pawn within the cooroprate players’ games of data mining and consumer profit. When Zuckerberg called Facebook a passport to the internet, he may have also been talking about the associated aspects of documentation and regulation (and even access) that a passport implies.

Furthermore, the commercial motives of platform owners and advertising agencies make Facebook and Twitter’s inclusion of ‘Like’ ‘Trending’ ’Share’ and ‘Recommendation’ algorithms more than just opportunities of expression or personalized suggestions. Rather, they are part of commercial strategy as measurers of desire and fortune-tellers of consumer trend, as prompts and series of cross-linked microsystems that quickly take you from a friend’s song shared on Facebook through to its purchase on iTunes, as hierarchal systems that promote the popular and profitable and, in doing so, silences (or, renders invisible) the unpopular and unprofitable; creating a repetitive, somewhat enclosed environment where ‘new’ is all too often ‘recycled’ (Dijck 2013).

I find myself often wondering, when it comes to posting on a platform: ‘who are we speaking to? The idea of experiencing life through ‘the Facebook eye’ (Jurgenson 2013) ; looking at our experiences as potential status updates- might be evidence of how we have learnt from the marketing approach of this platform; essentially marketing ourselves, our lives and experiences as ‘products’ to be ‘liked’ ’ranked’ and ‘shared’, as objects to be consumed by our friends, followers, acquaintances.

But perhaps it’s not all that bad. As a friend pointed out- It is in social media’s strengths to allow such marketing from the platform user, as an opportunity to establish their ‘brand’ as a company or ‘identity’ as an individual, and a means to promote and communicate themselves to a large audience, fast.

This idea relates to the conflict of self as ‘performance’ as opposed to its ‘authentic’ version which- as Nathan Jurgenson explains in The Disconnectists- is a tension with roots further than social media. Ervings Goffman’s theory of the self as constituted of stages- each with different approaches, roles and priorities (the on-stage performance distinguished from what goes on behind the curtains), or George Herbert Mead’s theory of the self as balanced between the socialised aspects ( the ‘me’) and its response to these experiences (the ‘I’). Goffman and Mead both acknowledge that same inclusion of a performed self as a part of who we are. And perhaps it is just that aspect of our selves that social media is designed to facilitate…but perhaps that is why we must be wary of social media as well- because their nature as performances insinuate that these constructs may not always be genuine.

Facebook isn’t necessarily a reflection of who we are, rather, it is a reflection of how we choose to represent ourselves to our circle of friends.

To disconnect may close the curtains on some of the performative aspects of the self, and with it the stress of its ‘maintenance’ in status updates and notifications. In Goffman’s view, It might mean to live offstage and behind the curtains. To communicate with your immediate surroundings may invite more focus, thoughtfulness or reflection. It is necessary to be aware of how this online interaction is perhaps, making you feel, and to be mindful of the way and extent in which we utilize social media platforms. If we lose our ability to focus; habituated to the -louder- attention-seeking nature of online-where it becomes increasingly difficult to find actual text of an article between all its adverts. If browsing through social media platforms stir feelings of missing out, or not being good enough. If the extent of connection online leaves us disconnected and missing out on many ‘real’-offline experiences. Or if we begin to consider our experiences in terms of its potential as broadcasted posts, then it may be time to opt out and disconnect for a moment, to maintain that ‘inner zen’ that doesn’t consider these platforms a necessary practice for the development of self.

References:

Jurgensun, N (2013). The Disconnectists. The New Inquiry. Available at: http://thenewinquiry.com/essays/the-disconnectionists/

Dijck, V (2013) The Ecosystem of Connective Media. Oxford University Press. Available at: https://ilearn.swin.edu.au/bbcswebdav/pid-5580664-dt-content-rid-29195279_2/courses/2016-HS1-MDA80004-213821/van%20Dijck_The%20Ecosystem%20of%20Connective%20Media_ch8_2013.pdf