How I’m Trying to Disconnect from the Stupid

My thumb quickly navigates like a pro over the myriad folders of apps on my iPhone, scrolling through to answer notifications. I’m on my phone a lot, which I justify to myself as being largely related to my power user status and career as a mobile software developer, but is actually just a remarkable convenience allowing me to hide a small degree of shame — think of an alcoholic owning a bar as an excuse to discuss fine tequilas all day as he samples the goods. So I regularly study my screen time in attempts to reign in the monster that has overtaken my life. There’s my inboxes, a demon I only slightly tame as I answer their beckoning. My news habit, which admittedly is junkie-esque, constantly tempered by a weird push/pull of how informed I want to be versus how sane I want to stay. My string of text messages, family and friends shooting me stuff throughout the day, including a long running joke/meme thread with a group of my buddies, and a joke and music sharing thread I have with my grown children to counteract that we’re spread across the globe, not regularly able to chat. A couple of games I frequent, especially Words with Friends, that are a measure of decompression. Finally, there’s my uneasy relationship with social media. I’ve got most of it — Twitter, Quora, Reddit, and of course, Facebook, the site I use most often and I probably dislike the most, ironically. My thumb reflexively goes towards the social media folder as I realize I’ve still got another 10 minutes before my next call, just enough time to check…and my thumb hovers above that giant blue “F” logo, as I pause and remember my promise to myself, quickly exiting out of the folder while shaking my head.

I thought social media was a great idea the first time I used Myspace. I was moving from Oregon to Arizona, had friends spread through the country, and it was way more convenient than taking time to call or compose an email. Distance seems to create separation naturally, but if I had another easier way to stay in touch (never mind my already tech-heavy world), wouldn’t that be great?

Fast forward over a decade, and for me, it hasn’t been that great. Of course I have established myself in my new area, and many I’ve met at a variety of social gatherings has sent me a friend request on Facebook. I was raised between California and Oregon in a family that was an amalgam of working and lower-middle class, both parents liberal, went to college, and was taught to be skeptical and cynical of claims. Of course I knew, especially in purple Arizona, that my views aren’t shared by everyone, but I also was afflicted by the burden of the belief that if someone points out an inaccurate statement, a reasonable person might say “Oh, interesting, I’ll have to check that out, maybe revise my beliefs.” So when I might put something up on Facebook that veered into political territory, it would inevitably be met with an immense amount of backlash, and I would try to respond with facts, figures, logic, and what I thought would be sets of statements which would shed light on where their ideologies were wrong. Surely facts would penetrate the bubble, right?

Turns out, not so much. To paraphrase a line from a Kevin Smith movie, ideas are better than beliefs, because it’s a lot easier to change ideas. Around the election of 2012, I realized that I was spending a lot of time online arguing with people about politics, so I decided not to put up any more political posts. Quickly, I reverted to a new standard of simple life updates, and, more frequently, jokes, comics, and memes (I have this weird compulsion towards standup comedy and open mics, even though I’m admittedly mediocre, because I like making people laugh).

I’m going to resist going into a long diatribe about Trump and the Republican party here, so many others have written about it more personally and eloquently than I have. I don’t like him, think he’s an abject failure, wasn’t shocked when he won but was still very gutted, and have found that some people’s approval of his horrible actions has separated me from many I formerly respected and even loved. At this point, when I see a pro-Trump post, I seesaw between revulsion and laughter, depending on the circumstances. When it’s from someone I like, I lose respect for them, because I think we’re past the point of explanation in 2020. And yes, I am quite skilled at utilizing the unfriend, block, and unfollow features.

But the bigger problem, I’ve found, isn’t just that I know a lot of people who are easily duped and unwilling to admit they might be wrong. The problem is that I want to be their savior of truth when they have no desire to be saved. I have this compulsive, diabolical need to swoop in and say “actually…” when people share an inaccurate news article or blog. When they start spouting orthodoxy that is opposite to things I know to be true. When they spew hateful rhetoric, but the person I’ve known is generally kind, I optimistically step in and attempt to appeal to their better angels. But what I’ve found, over and over again, is it’s a fool’s errand. They don’t want to be corrected, enlightened, or to discuss anything, and the buffer that is tech makes it easier to be mean, dismissive, and ignore every social norm we were taught. I don’t feel these “discussions” go anywhere, ultimately — I think life is the best teacher, and some people only learn when something effects them personally. But life does that without my intervention. I’ve seen plenty of homophobes have a gay child, or prejudiced people learn they have mixed ancestry, which alone is enough to keep me on the agnostic side instead of tipping over to full atheism.

Beyond that, I’ve learned that social media is a bit of a performance and voyeuristic space. It allows easy reference on whether you’re doing better or worse than your acquaintances. It lets you peek in on the life of a train wreck you know, see who among your loose circle is back on their bullshit, and, most importantly, allows you to harvest likes to get validation. At this point, though, I think I’m better off just seeking validation from those I’m already close to, and my dog. I trust their opinion a lot more than that odd Mormon republican who installed my water softener, or a couple random people I went to high school with who’ve never left their hometown. I don’t think everyone’s opinion is valuable. I believe an informed opinion is valuable, but an uninformed one is pretty worthless, and Dunning-Kruger teaches me the uninformed are the most vocal about their opinions.

Software development has taught me a few things about web and mobile platforms, things many are already well aware of due to research and cynicism. First, if you don’t pay, you’re the product. Second, if it’s overriding and sprinkled throughout, it’s not a bug, it’s a feature. Facebook and their ilk are ad platforms, plain and simple. They masquerade as being about things like connection and bridging divides, but they’re in business to deliver you specifically targeted ads for things they think you’ll like, based on all of the info you’ve given them about you (some volunteered, some scraped). My algorithm feeds me different products than yours, because it knows I play certain types of games and like rock and hip-hop, whereas you might be more inclined to Lady Gaga and offers for vacations to Colorado. To that end, they need one simple thing, which is engagement. If you spend time on the platform, they can target you more ads, and whether or not you click through, you’ve been exposed to the ads. Advertisement works, even though we all want to think we’re immune. Brand recognition is a big part of why we buy what we buy, and companies know this, which is why they spend money on it.

If engagement is your goal, then negative is a way better driver than positive. There’s all sorts of studies around this (political motivations and polling, rates of response, marketing studies), but humans seem to spend greater time spouting our dislikes more than our likes — if you doubt this hypothesis, feel free to delve into the rabbit hole, or just cruise Yelp for a bit.

I can’t bear to completely quit Facebook and its ilk. I use it for some legitimate purposes, and to quit it would be difficult and inconvenient. So I’ve done the next best thing. I limit my time. I’m a bit over it so far — what was supposed to be 15 minutes a day is currently more like 20-ish, but I’m getting better. However, it’s progress. Just like my fitness goals, meditation regiment, or getting enough sleep, I’m slowly getting there. The end result seems to be a bit more peace. Not dramatic, in just the same way as working out hasn’t transformed me back into the athlete I was back in my college days, but has made me feel a bit better physically. But I notice I’m happier. I feel a bit less obligated. A bit more at ease. And most importantly, I put my phone down a bit more and engage a bit more with the world at large.

Of course, this is just my opinion on what has worked for me, and maybe it won’t ring true for you. But I’d like to think that my career and life experience make me a bit more informed on this topic, and you, of course, are free to disagree.