Brushes with Digital Minimalism

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Introduction

    Even amongst other millennials, I was online pretty early in my life. My dad owned a company that sold PC's and did networking for schools in the early 90's, so I was surrounded by computers from a young age. These devices were sources of great joy and wonderment, especially as every year brought leaps and bounds of advancement! I'm not old enough to have been involved in BBS's, but my introduction to the internet was via a 56k modem screeching its way onto the World Wide Web. I remember my complete awe when one of my family members got a DSL connection that was always online, no dialing required!
    This completely positive opinion of computing and technology in general continued up through my teens. The first whiff of something being wrong was with the then prevalent issue of "MySpace drama" (I was not, at that time, aware of the myriad other ways technology can be used to harm and subjugate people). Teens are notoriously petty and sensitive, full of emotions and skin the thickness of a fly's wing. Of course having a sounding board with the barrier of a screen was going to stir up unrest in a flighty group of people with poor coping skills. This was nothing, though, compared to the impact of Facebook.

Impetus

    Though I quickly picked up social media, I soon became frustrated with the platforms. The chief issues I had with social media were privacy violations and massive data collection ("If the service is free, then you are the product."), purposeful incitement of social/political divisions for the mere aim of driving up clicks, and the aggregation and curation of web content in a way that hampers discovery and thoughtfulness. Nothing was there to serve the user, only the shareholders. The user experience was already lackluster, but over the years, these platforms became downright irredeemable.
    Of course, the hook to keep you on these platforms is the insistence that it's the only way to stay in contact with other people. How can we rely on such an inhuman service to administer our human connections? No one needs these services, and in time I finally realized that I don't need these services. I don't participate in social media, and it's an improvement, but I feel like there's still something with a hold on me. It's not so much a problem of flushing the enemy out from the shadows to identify the one, single barb causing all my technology woes, but rather seeing that it's a net, a multitude of knots ensnaring me.

Intrusions

    If I'm not on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, TikTok, then why do I still feel like my day is constantly being interrupted, my time being stolen bit by bit? When I want to watch a show, I get ads. When I want to read an article, ads. When I want to listen to a song, ads. When I want to play a game, ads. So many ads! How much of our economy is driven by buying and selling ads, by buying and selling private data to directly target those ads? It honestly seems like a pretty shaky foundation.
    But is this really the only way technology, principally smartphones, intrude upon our lives? The ads are one issue, but arguably more disturbing is the content of our feeds. Aside from our own chosen content (in the form of subscriptions and follows), there is content chosen for us. Even if you never log into a platform, what you see is curated to elicit certain reactions, and those reactions are not positive. Research has shown that seeking negative engagement will hook more users and for longer. To that end, many entities ensure that the top videos and articles on a given platform are designed to enrage, frighten, and shock. This sort of constant attack on our senses and sensibilities is provably harmful.

Impulse

    Let's pull back a bit. I've already talked about what is found on many online platforms, and how that can harm us. But if it's so bad, why do I keep coming back to it. Why am I so drawn to it? After years of checking my phone during every "empty moment," it's become more than a habit; it's become a physiological impulse, an addiction. I feel compelled to check my phone, even when I'm in the middle of doing something else, like watching a movie, playing a game, or hanging out with friends. When I look back on this behavior, I'm frustrated and disappointed in myself. I feel like I'm not giving my friends, or even the media I'm engaging with, the attention they deserve, and I feel like I'm getting a shallow, abridged version of those experiences.
    But again, if I'm left with these negative feelings, then why do I keep doing it? Phone dependence can be similar to drug addiction. If I forget my phone, I feel a very real dread, I feel it buzz in my pocket, even when it doesn't, and instead of using it to find joy, I now have to have it to "feel normal." These realizations are honestly scary, and of course, my first inclination is to just ignore them and tell myself, "It's not a big deal. I probably use my phone less than most people, even." Actually doing something about this issue is a pretty big effort, both in logistics and in willpower.

Independence

    My goal is to eliminate the dependence on my phone, what feels like an unwilling devotion. The first step, identifying the problem and readily admitting that it is indeed a problem, has been accomplished, but where to go from here? How do I break my phone's grasp on me? By breaking apart the phone itself. Not literally, of course (though I certainly feel tempted to do so at times). Rather, break apart the phone into discrete functional components: Camera, web browser, communication, calendar, media player, clock, and navigation. There are certainly other components that the smartphone can be divided into, but these distinctions serve my needs well enough (and are not set in stone). Lets take a look at each...

Intention

    The whole point of digital minimalism, personally, is to live with greater intentionality. Rather than being swept along by a current of distractions and influence, I want to be the one steering my life, and that all starts with being decisive in the little moments, day-to-day. I choose how I spend my time, even if that means being bored. I don't need to fill every waking second with entertainment; that sort of behavior is harmful. The groundwork of those choices is setting myself up with alternatives, as well as creating purposeful omissions.
    I'm not totally cut off from the digital world (though I do seem to have a striking longing to go live in the woods, a la Thoreau), but I have defined certain boundaries. I believe we have to see the digital world as accessing us at least as much as we access it (though very likely moreso). In that paradigm, it is important that we erect clear and functional gates that only allow access to ourselves when we choose. Autonomy is a keystone of digital minimalism. How we live our lives, how we are influenced, how we are reachable should all be an individual's choice, not a matter of circumstance.



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