Limited Attention, Unlimited Consumption
Phones rule the world even when you're twelve years old. My parents did not let me have a phone until I graduated eighth grade. At the time, being a phoneless eighth grader, for some constructed societal reason, was a big deal…not in a good way. It was a very entitled, tone deaf, “problem,” that left me feeling jealous, and angry. Looking back, I cannot believe that the lack of a phone was such a big deal for a twelve-year-old version of myself. A baby human who was begging for access to a device that holds an unlimited source of information. But joining the phone club was only the beginning.
The Gen Z demographic is the first age cohort that has grown up since childhood with the presence of technology and social media. Common questions that arise with a quick Google search of Gen Z entail:
“Can Gen Z live without the internet?”
“Is Gen Z addicted to technology?”
“Is Gen Z addicted to social media?”
Being a part of Gen Z includes the struggle of helping parents and grandparents learn to use a device that seems to come naturally to me. It’s being able to connect with my friends instantly despite being cities apart. It’s being able to scroll online and find my new favorite song by some underground indie band. Honestly, I enjoy technology and social media and the convenience it provides.
My cognitive psychology class has taught me that our attention is limited. Meaning that what we direct our attention to holds a lot more value than we give it credit for. As I've heard: our window of the world is only that to which we attend. If this window is a phone, then what kind of world is that?
The problem with overconsumption of the internet is that there is a happiness craved by the consumer and promised by content-makers. Yet, instead when we engage in excessive consumption, we enter a state where we will never be fulfilled. Where to continuously achieve satisfaction from online consumption, we have to increase the amount of time we spend online. This cycle, when not satisfied by the consumer, can result in increased negative emotion(s) such as anxiety. As online consumption is also a chase for a dopamine release in the brain, without it, withdrawal symptoms are to be expected. And so, this toxic relationship thrives.
This means potentially losing the ability to focus and sleep, losing motivation, and even struggling to be present. Humans are not meant to be exposed to the amount of stimulation which runs off the internet in the modern world. We lose bits of ourselves staring at a screen, chasing a reality instead of living in it. Maybe it is time for me to finally delete TikTok and get on top of my assignments. Live up to the promise to treat 2023 as the year where I am on top of everything and my bad habits have no room to get in the way. Moderation is key, as someone has said.
There are reasons why we reach for our phones unconsciously. When we need a “break,” we open a social media app and begin a never-ending scroll. I don't doubt that in 20 years I will look back on my life and wish I had put my phone down more. Despite that, I will still probably open my phone in 20 seconds to scroll *as I write this*. I hope that I am breaking this bad habit. I want to learn how to crochet, go on more hikes with my friends, and read more. So I'm turning off my notifications. I am making my phone boring. No longer is my phone an extension of myself (if I speak it, it is halfway to becoming true).
As my phone sits beside me on my desk, and I type away, my finger itches to flip it over and see my screen illuminate with notifications, with something that will take my attention down a rabbit-hole. Perhaps it is too much of a good thing that has made the internet bad. The moments I have missed out on, and the negative feelings that have arisen from its presence. My best times are spent without my phone at my side. Without a parasite that sucks my attention away into a dark void.
But I am leaving my phone face down. I can hear the laughter of my housemates, and I am going to join them.
Phoneless.
Header by: Katelyn Zeng