TGG016: Digital minimalism and the magnificent gift of time
FOCUS OF THE WEEK: Grudges
Tha Warmup
Hi I’m Katie, and last week I averaged 5 hours per day on my phone. Not to be dramatic, but that makes me want to pour Bragg apple cider vinegar directly into my pupils.
I’m not the only one ceaselessly scrolling. A friend of mine recently found himself swiping through Hinge while on a date with a cute girl whom he liked (she was in the bathroom).
In psychology there’s a concept called the “hedonic treadmill,” or the tendency to be on the hunt continuously for the next thing that’ll make us feel good. We’re not able to just be. Technology has become a treadmill: we keep running in search of more likes, more comments, more retweets, getting us nowhere closer to happiness.
Time is the most precious gift we can give ourselves. Becoming intentional in how we use technology will give you time to invest in what truly matters.
Cal Newport (better known as the “Marie Kondo of phones”), computer science professor at Georgetown University, has dedicated his career to studying the intersection of digital technology and culture. This week we explore his book Digital Minimalism to equip us with the strategies that will help us save our brains while we still can. 2020, here’s to a healthier relationship with technology and with ourselves!
Tha Routine
After learning the hard way that multitasking is not a real thing (and neither is single-tasking with occasional glances at notifications, for the record), I made it my crusade to develop a better partnership with technology. It made sense: if I’m making time each day to fuel my body with long runs and fresh leafy greens, why would I be complacent with cognitive junk food constantly entering my consciousness? We are failing to properly value our attention capital. The result, as Newport explains, is a population that finds the quality of their lives diminishing.
How’d we get here?
Smartphones have been popular for just a decade. Yet they’ve come a long way since the days of only offering messaging, calendars, and contacts. The original pain point smartphones addressed was limited productivity outside of work. Laptops back in the day (think: post-Oregon Trail, pre-TikTok) were thicc, making it tough to do work outside the office. Then came devices like the Blackberry, which meant you could stay on top of emails without having to miss your daughter’s soccer game.
As the Internet became more accessible, the type and extent of information people shared grew. But platforms like Facebook were slow moving. You’d log in on your browser, check what your college friends were up to, and have no incentive to check back in that same day. When it came time for Facebook’s IPO, they needed to boost revenue. So, engineers added likes, comments, auto-tagging on photos -- features that created what Newport refers to as “rich streams of social approval indicators.” Now, the notifications continuously rolled in all day long. Thus began a Pavlovian response: when we hear a buzz, we reach for our phone.
Cool cool cool cool cool. Please give me some good news.
I will. In researching technology use, Newport found a number of people who have healthy, and even beneficial, relationships with their devices. And they all share something in common: an underlying philosophy which dictates how and when they use technology.
Newport identifies a similar trend in food and fitness. The 20th century brought a plethora of processed foods and fast foods, which of course led to higher rates of type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and obesity. Now think about the absolute healthiest people you know. They have some named philosophy they subscribe to (i.e., keto), which dictates what they will and will not eat. While they certainly think McDonald’s fries taste delicious, they know that in order to have a healthy relationship with food, they need to establish boundaries.
Similarly, people are developing the same skepticism around technology with which we view food. They want clear roadmaps to help them make consistent choices.
Go on…
The philosophy Newport advocates is that of “digital minimalism.” This takes the ancient concept of minimalism - stripping away the unnecessary and focusing a lot of time on the few things that really matter - and applies it to technology. You decide what you actually care about and work backwards, asking yourself, “What’s the best way I can use technology to support this value?” Everything else, you happily skip.
In his book talk at Georgetown, Newport uses the example of a digital artist. Artists get inspiration from other artists. Instagram being a popular place for artists to post their work, it’s become an important platform for artists to utilize. However, waking up and spending an unrestricted amount of time scrolling won’t lead to any masterpieces. Instead, a digital artist should curate a list of 50 accounts they follow and set Tuesday and Thursday evenings as the designated windows for seeking inspiration. Make social media platforms work for you by getting exactly what you want out of them and ignoring the rest.
Why should I really care?
For two big reasons. First, research says we are permanently decreasing our capacity for concentration. Think about that. Studies find that by throwing digital stimuli at our brains the moment we feel boredom, we are wrecking our attention spans and reducing cognitive performance. Newton uses the example of a drug addict: “After a while it takes more and more drugs just to get back to normal.” Aside from impacting us professionally in our ability to produce quality work, constantly reaching for devices hurts us personally, too.We derive less pleasure from day to day interactions. We struggle to pay attention to the friend we’re having sushi with because the little voice in our head tells us to check for notifications.
The second major cause for concern is our psychological well-being. Research finds heavy use of social media (read: Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook) is linked to feelings of isolation. When you come to think of it, of course we feel like sh*t when we’re sitting on our couch wearing baggy sweatpants with elastic around the ankles, eating leftover peppermint bark, looking at some young mom with 100k Insta followers whose body looks straight out of an Athleta ad. Mental health experts on college campuses tell Newport about the impact of loneliness and isolation they’re seeing, with countless students coming to them with anxiety-related disorders.
But on the upside…
Deploying social media at the service of your values provides a much higher return on your time. You’ll restore a sense of control over your life and enhance the quality of your relationships.
If you’re thinking, “But Katie, if I don’t have (insert social platform), I’m going to miss out.” Think about social media as another form of entertainment: like swapping a magazine for a newspaper. I recently got back into the habit of reading before going to bed, and it’s remarkable how quickly my brain has adapted from getting excited about reading Twitter to getting excited about reading novels.
Where do I begin?
Newport lays out a strategy for becoming a digital minimalist.
First, take a 30-day detox from “optional technologies.” Most of us can’t ghost our emails the way we ghosted Cameron from Bumble without getting fired from our jobs. But we cango 30 days without platforms like Snapchat. Start with deleting social media apps.
Next, rediscover what nourishes you. Swim, ride a bike, write, cook, read, clean, notice. Feel the subway car rumble beneath your feet. Notice how it feels to step into a bathtub.
After 30 days, reintroduce the optional technologies, building a new relationship with them from the ground up. This means creating guidelines for how and when you will use them to serve your values. For instance, decide that you will only go on Instagram during your commute to or from work and that dinners with friends call for placing your phone out of sight. Write these guidelines down and put them somewhere you look every day, like a sticky note on your nightstand.
And that's it. I will be embarking on this 30-day endeavor, so feel free to hit me with a reply if you want to go through the waves of withdrawal and rejuvenation together.
Time is a gift. Spending five hours each day scrolling through mostly meaningless content suggests we are severely undervaluing it. New York Times columnist Kevin Roose found himself in a similar situation to mine and sought help from Catherine Price, author of How to Break Up With Your Phone. She told him, “Your life is what you pay attention to... If you want to spend it on video games or Twitter, that’s your business. But it should be a conscious choice.”
After following Price’s program for creating a healthy relationship with your phone, Roose wrote about his new view of the online world, “I still love that world, and probably always will. But now, the physical world excites me, too — the one that has room for boredom, idle hands and space for thinking. I no longer feel phantom buzzes in my pocket or have dreams about checking my Twitter replies. I look people in the eye and listen when they talk. I ride the elevator empty-handed. And when I get sucked into my phone, I notice and self-correct.”
Still hungry for tech help?