I recently offloaded social media apps from my phone and began resisting the habit of looking. I have done this type of “cleanse” before, but this go-around was different. I don’t especially want to go back. I’m less concerned about what I’ll be missing “out there” and more concerned about what I’ve been neglecting “in here”—in me.
Time spent on sites led to being online more, meaning I inevitably searched for any mentioned sites (careful to no longer click directly, given so many phishing schemes). Every plant video, dog account, or curly hair tutorial led to something I was compelled to investigate.
I rarely wanted what any of these posters were sharing, be it a thing or an attitude about themselves. I wanted what I already had, or what I would authentically conjure in my own time, or what was available to me if only I’d remember to look. These things were only possible if I detached, pretty much, from the former.
Investopedia describes a basic principle of economic theory—opportunity cost—as something that “represents the potential benefits that… an individual consumer misses out on when choosing one alternative over another.” Well, I was missing out—on myself.
I’m not alone. In 2022, the journal Current Opinion in Psychology noted, “Social media habits represent one of the most common—and controversial—forms of habitual behavior in contemporary society.”
But it was a seemingly unrelated and fascinating essay in the New York Times titled “Obscene Prices, Declining Quality: Luxury Is in a Death Spiral” by Katharine K. Zarrella that kickstarted my abstinence this time. She writes: “In recent years, luxury of all kinds has become obscenely, disgracefully, inconceivably costly. And the price hikes we’ve seen are steeper than what inflation would dictate. What’s worse? As costs climb, quality hasn’t. In fact, it’s largely declined.”
At one time, social media felt like a luxury, something both exciting and novel, bringing us together—remotely—with people and causes that mattered differently to each of us. But the barrage of noise online has reached a point of diminishing returns.
I actually get more out of less time online. Rather than trying to process information that comes at me with fire hydrant force, I am better able to navigate a metered trickle. I find more value in this because I’m back in control, and back in touch with myself.
All the external noise will always want to detract the focus on what lies within, something research backs up. An article in Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking titled “Taking a One-Week Break from Social Media Improves Well-Being, Depression, and Anxiety: A Randomized Controlled Trial.” So I’ll proceed with caution, deactivating or sidestepping apps that too easily lure me in.
