Notes on Internet Addiction

The main distinction I see in my life from before and after COVID is that at some point the internet stopped being a tool I used every day and instead my online-ness became a default state of being. I was always on.

It’s become obvious to me that we’re not built to live terminally online lives. We’re not built to fill every gap in our day by doomscrolling, checking messages, and generally consuming global information streams at the speed of light. It’s sensory overload.

Being so online has implications for our personal lives. Common side effects include increased anxiety, depression, envy, and insecurity. That, along with shrinking attention spans and disrupted sleep.

Being so online has implications for wider culture as well. People are becoming more average over time because we’re all consuming the same content curated for us by TikTok, YouTube, Instagram, X and so on. This is often talked about as “algorithmic flattening,” and what that means is when we all consume the same inputs, we create similar outputs whether that’s in the form of art, startups, research, or even thoughts. We’re all losing our floofy spiky uniqueness and being eroded into a standard shape, which crushes originality and creativity at a societal scale.

Anyone who is very online understands these issues in a visceral way. We see it in our lives, and we know that being hyper online has some problematic secondary effects... and yet, so many of us have given up trying to set boundaries. We make excuses. I make excuses. “Oh, it’s just an hour and I deserve this time to scroll” or “Oh, the whole world is moving more online anyway so why bother trying to swim against the current?”

The reality is most of us are addicts. I understand this is uncomfortable language, but so many people have been completely defeated by the dopamine engineering of casino capitalism. Together, we’re willingly dripping poison into our lives instead of reckoning with our individual choices and the systems that we live in. We are, as Neil Postman said back in the 1980s, amusing ourselves to death.

This is not meant to be a drive-by guilting. And yes, in part, I’m talking to myself because I’m easily among the worst offenders in this category: I’ve done everything wrong and I lived in a dystopia of being plugged into endless, multi-screen slop at 2x speed for years. The reason why I’m writing this is I realized that I need to wake up and get my head in the game before my life is vaporized into a puddle of infinite digital regret, and I can’t imagine that I’m alone. I keep asking myself, “Don’t I want more than this? Isn’t life supposed to be more than this?”

Ok that was the worst of this crash out. Deep breath. All is not lost.

I concede that the internet is fun, funny, and a great place to learn. I concede that the internet is a magical tool for connection. I’ve made many of my closest friends online. I concede that the internet is an abundant place to find opportunity. Every job I’ve ever had as an adult is a result of having an online presence.

I think the supermajority of people would agree that there are a lot of great things about the internet, so what am I saying here?

I’m not saying that people should log off forever. In modern times that’s not even possible, and plus I like being online. I would never want to disappear completely. The question I’m wrestling with is, what’s the line? How much of the internet do we use and when do we say, that’s enough?

I’m not in the business of prescribing particular answers. A mentor once told me that most areas of life are morally neutral in the general sense, but that doesn’t mean they’re morally neutral for YOU specifically. For example, maybe one person can drink alcohol no problem, but another person can’t because they have an addictive personality. So, for internet stuff the question of what to use and what not to use (and in what measure, and when) is personal. We have to make those decisions ourselves.

That said, I think the through line is everyone would benefit from being more intentional with their relationship to the online world.

Some different practices that I’ve found helpful are limiting my attention to one social network, reducing complexity on my phone, and only doom scrolling and checking messages a few times per day. That, and a digital sabbath: one full day of no technology per week. Also, I do as much work on paper now as I can.

If you want to think more deeply about what good digital hygiene could look like for you then check out Cal Newport’s writing, Jenny Odell’s book, and the Center for Humane Technology. If you’re more philosophically inclined, then Sherry Turkle and Wendell Berry are worth reading as well.

For what it’s worth, I’m hopeful. I feel confident that I can claim my life back from being perma-online while still enjoying my favorite corners of the internet. I also think culture is shifting and pushing back against the default online-is-always-good position, which is encouraging.

One thing I am haunted by though is how much internet addiction is a system problem vs. an individual responsibility problem.

Let me give you an anecdote from another industry to help make this point. In the early 2000s, British Petroleum popularized the phrase “carbon footprint” as a way to individualize responsibility for carbon emissions and shift attention away from the largest corporate actors. It was a very effective propaganda campaign, and today when it comes to climate issues many people think about their personal carbon footprint vs. regulating the world’s largest emitters.

The question this brings up for wicked problems like climate change, internet addiction, or otherwise is… to what extent are people responsible for solving issues on their own vs. to what extent are large actors responsible for making changes (usually via regulation)?

The only answer I have is: probably some of both? I don’t mean to make this post too political, but the more I think about the modern internet and its impact on society, the more I wonder what regulating aspects of it might look like.

I know people panic when reading commentary about regulation because how dare you take away muh freedom, but I think Isaiah Berlin’s distinction of “freedom from” vs. “freedom to” is relevant here. Shouldn’t people, if they so choose, also be free from algorithms that have been optimized by the smartest people in the world to suck them in and siphon their attention?

At a minimum, I think everyone can agree that Big Tech is big business. We know the internet is not a neutral place and that algorithms are not neutral. This has implications across business, politics, education and more but those conversations are beyond the scope of this post (and mostly above my pay grade).

Alright back to some positive thoughts.

I do think individual choice is very powerful.

I would encourage everyone that read this far to explore what having a healthier relationship with the internet could look like. I know doing work on this has been worthwhile for me.

When trying to make changes in my life something I’ve noticed is that carrots are stronger than sticks, and by that, I mean spending time on activities that I’m excited about seems to be a better counterweight to overusing the internet than trying to force arbitrary limits on myself. I think humans are more driven by incentives than deterrents, so maybe the answer for all of us is simply that we need to fall in love with real life again. That’s what I want.

I realize a lot of what I’ve talked about can feel overwhelming, and it’s difficult sometimes to know where to start, so what I’ll say as I wrap up is this doesn’t have to be that deep. Stuff as simple as not having your phone in your room overnight or making sure to eat breakfast before logging on can be incredibly helpful. Small changes can have meaningful impacts.