Image generated by ChatGPT via DALL·E, October 2024
June 8th, 2024
Sometimes, I catch myself wishing I could hit rewind, back to a time when screens weren’t constantly clawing for my attention. I remember it so clearly: the year 2012, fifth grade. That was the year I got my first iPhone. Before that, I had an Android for a year, but the iPhone? It was the holy grail. It promised endless connection with my friends, opening up a world of instant messaging, emojis, and social feeds at my fingertips.
Back then, smartphones weren’t the constant force they are now. We didn’t live in a world of relentless pings and notifications. Our biggest concerns were how high we could swing at recess or whether our homework was done, not who liked our latest post or how many followers we had. We were digital stragglers, those lucky enough to remember a time when constant connectivity wasn’t part of growing up.
Now, fast forward to today. It feels like I’m waking up from a dream, questioning what this digital revolution has really done to us. Just recently, I heard a blaring health warning on the radio from a law firm. Parents were being told they could sue if their kids became addicted to Instagram.
Let that sink in. As I listened, it hit me like a smack in the face: I may not be a parent, but I’m no stranger to that addictive pull myself. Mindlessly scrolling, checking for notifications, it’s an uncomfortable truth, but it’s my reality. And I know I’m not alone. So, if I can’t sue my way out of this addiction, what can I do?
Jonathan Haidt’s book The Anxious Generation paints a clear picture of this battle. Since 2014, the number of teens who say they’re online ‘almost constantly’ has doubled. Nearly half of teens admit to being glued to their phones almost nonstop (Haidt, 2024). As a 23-year-old Gen Z’er, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed. In just two months since the book hit shelves, the conversations around digital addiction have been igniting public forums in ways I’ve never seen before. Yet, the idea of purging my online identity feels impossible. Wouldn’t I be sabotaging my future, my career, my dreams? Tech is woven into every part of modern life, and it’s not going anywhere.
But as I wrestle with this, I realize that technology isn’t just a tool. It’s something much bigger. It’s embedded into our future, shaping who we are, our dreams, our ambitions. It’s Pandora’s Box, and once opened, there’s no putting the contents back. Even with all its addictive qualities, tech is here to stay.
I believe we should all have the right to be digital stragglers, to reclaim a sense of balance and mindfulness in the way we engage with our devices. Haidt’s suggestions, like banning phones in schools and delaying phone use for teens, are a great start. But we need to go further. We need to integrate the science of well-being and positive psychology to help not just users, but advertisers and platforms, foster a healthier relationship with technology. This is about recalibrating our attention, and it starts by building a new culture of digital belonging: one grounded in evidence-based strategies for thriving alongside our tech.
ROGER IRWIN 