My Attempt at a Digital “Detox”
(Part One)
The phrase “digital detox” strikes me as rather funny. Each time I say it, I swear I can hear my grandmother’s laughter.
Surviving without a cell phone, social media, or the Internet? That’s called a detox? During my grandparents’ time- even my own childhood- that wasn’t a “detox.” That was Life.
However, during my recent semi-hiatus, it certainly felt like a detox. It felt, truthfully, like a vacation. What inspired this vaca? Make no mistake, it wasn’t about nostalgia for “the way things used to be”- although that was more than enough motivation.
I think, after growing sick and tired of triviality/ pretentiousness/ inauthenticity dominating my newsfeed, I just wanted a break from Facebook. Simultaneously, the more I read about NSA data collection, the more I engaged my students in critical analysis of social media.
As these conversations emerged, folks were contemplating New Year Resolutions for 2014.
So it became glaringly obvious: I had to unplug.
But how?
Unlike the people I’m closest to, I’m a “sharer” on and offline. I’m all about communication / collaboration/ “putting myself out there.” Facebook has been a wonderful tool for social activities in my life, but it’s been far more useful in terms of gathering & sharing info between activists. Without it, there is much work I could not participate in, while working full-time- (fighting the Keystone pipeline, pushing GMO-labeling bills, advocating for LGBT rights, the list goes on). I feared missing out on important issues & work, until I realized a little thing called “Twitter” could fill such a void. And it did, at first.
But then- there it was. That seemingly innocent word. “Sharing.” I kept coming back to the questions: what are we sharing, what am I sharing, and why? What do we worship? What do we express? The emphasis is on commodification, in today’s cultural climate, and the effects are devastating. We “share” not to spread around joy, or make deep, lasting connections, or begin meaningful conversation to improve somebody else’s day. There are millions upon millions of narcissists (clinically diagnosed as such, or not) who “share” just to brag, compete, hear themselves talk, sell something, or garner a substitute for self-esteem. Vacations, life changes, births, marriages, business-related activities, friendships: these things become glossy, commodified images. We keep up with the virtual Joneses.
And on that note, let me side bar, for a moment: These images are more dangerous for some than others. Research shows a correlation between lower self-esteem / higher rates of eating disorders, and the amount of time spent on Facebook. When I think of how these images could have impacted my subconscious as a teenager, via FB / texting / Tweeting Chirping, it’s just… nauseating.
In 2003, (you know, back in the dark ages), all we had was AIM (AOL Instant Messaging). For this, I’m eternally grateful. I sent my first text message at 19 years old- (due to peer pressure to join this fascinating new world of Cell Phones). As a teenager, if I wished for communication beyond instant messaging, I’d pick up the phone (yes, the one attached to my parents’ kitchen wall) and dial a number I’d memorized or written down. These long, rambling conversations- and there were many!- did not involve an exchange of photos that could come back to haunt me, years afterward.
If I wanted privacy, I lifted the phone’s cord over our kitchen table and around the corner, to awkwardly position myself on our basement stairs. I hoped my parents had better things to do than eavesdrop. My father complained (because we did not have “Call Waiting”) that his friends and family would get a busy signal if they called our landline. To think, we did not simply share bedrooms, televisions, and a bathroom. We shared a phone number. If boyfriends called, and I wasn’t the first to answer, I prayed my Dad wouldn’t say something embarrassing. He often got a kick out of answering the phone in Spanish to confuse callers, or say, “Hold on one moment please, Katrina’s hogging the bathroom right now, fixing her hair.”
I won’t stay on my soapbox long (promise), but the truth is, just because we CAN use/do something, doesn’t mean we should. Virtual reality is not reality. Why get lost in that kind of space? It is, after all, a space in which, at the end of our lives, we will not look back and wish we’d spent more time.
If you’re Facebooking/Tweeting — That is what you’re doing in the moment. You’re not REALLY absorbed in the activity you claim to be a part of. You’re composing a status update, “checking in,” gazing at some hand-held device, rather than engaging in what surrounds you. The livelier one’s virtual life is, the duller the actual one becomes. Verbal diarrhea creates constant background noise, while the feed of Instagram photos literally places a filter on whatever moment you’ve captured. For all of Thoreau’s faults, he hit the nail on the head when he said, “Rather than money, than fame, give me truth.” Who wants a steady stream of pretty fabrications? (If I wanted that, I’d read Cosmo every day).
So I temporarily jumped ship. And what did I do while not scrolling mindlessly thru BookFace? Wrote letters to friends, played chess, browsed antique stores. While watching movies on the couch with my partner, I knit/ crochet instead of checking my phone. I made time for actual phone conversations. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, while playing Cards Against Humanity at Natty Greene’s. I read the work of Wendell Berry and Thomas Berry. I saw more of my friends- both because we planned more gatherings, and because when I was with them, the focus was legitimately on them. I planted a garden, and took a beer-brewing class with my partner.
But some rather unexpected events took place. In the span of one month, five different deaths made an impact on my psyche, and I felt pulled back in to the world of sharing pictures, words of condolence and comfort, and chatting with those I hadn’t seen in awhile. It’s too easy, when Facebook can be accessed through your phone. I began to wonder if maybe it was having a “smart”phone that changed my quality of life- not social networking sites.
I noticed, after awhile, that my enjoyment of Facebook-free livin’ was replaced with the temptation to log on. (Off and on). At a friend’s party, this came up in conversation, and someone immediately agreed: they, too, felt like a weird anti-social hermit after not logging on for a few months. But why? The answer must lie in our daily routines. My own urge to log on appeared in moments when I was alone or disengaged- for example, when there was a slow period during my workday.
I’m more fortunate than many folks, because A) I don’t live alone, B) I work in a high school, surrounded by friendly people, and C) I see my wonderful, self-deprecating, outdoorsy circle of friends each weekend. Too many of us remain isolated, (and struggle with our gadgets when we’re not), and use technological hyper-connectedness as a crutch.
Sorry, did I just call it a crutch?
I meant: an addiction.
I mean to say, “We’re suffering from addiction.”
We must call a spade a spade, and be unafraid to do so. When my sister & I saw the classic Tom Green perform stand-up in Boston, he said it best:
“You know when you.. send a text message to someone you really like and you get a response right away you feel happy? You feel happy, the body, it creates the chemical dopamine, the dopamine, it goes through your blood and you become addicted to that dopamine rush, and you associate that dopamine rush with the happy feeling of receiving the text, and that’s why you got people sending 3,000 f*cking text messages a day, right, we’re not even paying attention to what we’re saying anymore it’s just like a, like a morphine drip, right, it’s like a dopamine drip! HAPPY BUTTONS! TIME TO PLAY WITH THE HAPPY BUTTONS!”
His description may not be the most eloquent, but nonetheless rings true. This is the climate in which I find myself working every day. Most of my students are upper middle-class, and prefer to be plugged in. Iphones, ipads, i-everything. One question that this article posed stuck with me: When the next generation gets older, what will be the source of their nostalgia? I pray, for their sake, that it has less to do with snap-chat/ more to do with moments full of awkward tension, honeysuckle, bicycles, scraped knees, apple-picking, late-night talks with their siblings. I’ve heard some kids comment that they “wish they knew” what it was like to live in a cell-phone-free world. (Really, when was the last time any of us intentionally shut off our smartphones for a day? A week? God forbid). They dislike how easily plans change. It used to be that when you made plans with a friend, you kept those plans. Now, we are all guilty of cancelling last minute, far too often.
Conversation-starters like the National Day of Unplugging are beneficial. However, the effects are inherently limited. We do not need *one day* away from the status quo. We must change that status quo- saying “Enough” to society’s expectations. Studies have shown that being “plugged in” 24/7 contributes to weight gain, and can make us more lonely. It has been linked to attention, brain, and behavioral problems. Is this not enough reason to reexamine our lifestyle?
Of course, addiction to not-so-social media is part of a broader issue: our dependence on technology, and overworked schedules. We simply need more time, and communal spaces. Perhaps we would be less afraid/ more calm. For if we’re afraid to unplug because we don’t want to “miss out” on anything, then this is truly a case of “We’re doing this to ourselves.” (If only Jane would get off Facebook, Jack wouldn’t need one to keep up with her!)
I hope to continue this dialogue with friends (in real time, not only online), in hopes that others will offer some suggestions on how to combat our collective “addiction.” While I don’t see myself ditching gadgets for an old-school landline just yet, I think it will happen eventually. We’ve got to lose this treadmill-running sensation somehow, and remember the insight of Mary Oliver:
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’