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It happens every morning. As I sit and wait for my coffee to kick in, I reach for my phone, instantly falling down some sort of rabbit hole only to wake up some unknowable amount of time later. Today it was Spotify’s fault. Specifically, the “Self-Help” category of podcasts. After what I assume was a few minutes of scrolling, I was sure I would motivate myself, hack my ADD, master the subtle art of not giving a F*ck, and "Unf*uck my brain." A lot of cursing for 7 AM.
I like the rabbit hole metaphor because I think it captures how all-consuming these experiences are. Just like Alice when she falls into "Wonderland," we enter a dream-like trance the moment we pick up our phones. Here, we experience time differently. Once unbearable situations (i.e., waiting to get off an airplane) pass with ease.
Modern life comes with a virtually infinite number of rabbit holes. That’s what makes every second of every day so wonderfully, mind-bogglingly overwhelming. While it was Spotify that got me today, tomorrow it might be Instagram, the next day Apple News. You get the idea.
When I was a kid, I HATED boredom. I found it insufferable to be stuck on a long car ride or sitting in church or in school. I understand that no one likes being bored, especially not kids, but I suspect that having ADD makes me experience these situations a bit more intensely than most. Once, when I was in college, I stood up and walked out with roughly two hours remaining in a two-and half-hour lecture. As I made my way to the door, I could feel the eyes and judgement of the entire room. I didn’t want to leave, I had to. If you have ADD, you understand what I mean.
Not so long ago, boredom was an inescapable part of life. But, by the late 2000’s, cell phone makers and app developers waged war on and decisively defeated it. Never again would I be forced to stare at the wall or be alone with my thoughts. Somewhere, my nine-year-old self rejoiced.
In some ways, the pandemic brought back boredom, or at least something resembling it. For many of us, the highlight of our day was deciding when to go for a walk. At the start of the pandemic, I was convinced that I would finally do all of the things I’d been putting off: organize my bookshelf, learn Spanish, empty my Netflix queue. A few months in, I realized none of it would happen. It wasn’t my fault. I was up against the undefeated champion and destroyer of to-do lists everywhere: the internet.
One "task" I did manage to accomplish was watching comedian Bo Burnam’s special "Inside." Burnam performs songs about life during COVID and our relationship with technology. In one, he plays the part of "Creator of the Internet." The lyrics are "How 'bout a little bit of everything all of the time?," which perfectly captures the double-edged sword that is the internet—the mother of all rabbit holes. The words are both a promise and a threat.
As the song progresses, it gets faster and faster until it reaches an unsustainable speed, then stops abruptly, resembling the jarring feeling of lockdown when suddenly we could only go a few places. But if our physical lives slowed down, our virtual lives continued their blistering pace. The message of Burnam’s song, and the entire special, arguably, is that if there is a way to co-exist with the internet/technology we haven’t yet figured it out.
There are a handful who have cracked the code, making use of technology rather than getting used by it (Cal Newport, Adam Grant, Nicholas Carr, for example). Do these individuals possess superhuman levels of willpower? Doubtful. All have simply come to terms with what they’re up against. You likely already know their secret. Those rare few who are able to master the art of focus and be truly productive will put their phones on airplane mode, in another room, or lock themselves out with certain apps when it’s time to work. They all know that in order to get anything done, you must treat yourself like a child who cannot be trusted.
If you’re able to muster the courage to do this, you will eventually cultivate the ability to do what Newport calls "Deep Work"—focusing intensely, single-mindedly on the task at hand. Deep Work is its own kind of rabbit hole, but it’s one that you won’t hate yourself later for entering. Psychologists might call this a flow state–here we do some of our best, most satisfying work.
This is exactly what makers of technology don’t want for us. They’d prefer we remain transfixed on our devices, scrolling endlessly, unsure why exactly we picked up our phone in the first place (something productive, almost certainly.) They’d prefer “engagement” over "flow."
If there is a way to re-design our devices more favorably for humans, Tristan Harris may be the one to show us how to do so. Former design ethicist at Google, Harris now heads the Center for Humane Technology. As the name suggests, there is something profoundly inhumane about the tactics used by tech companies to gain (steal) your attention. Harris outlines several of them in the popular film “The Social Dilemma.” He argues that "Big Tech" is the modern-day equivalent of Big Tobacco (or worse) in the level of deception and gaslighting they’re willing to employ. Over and over again, tech companies and executives insist that it’s on us to use our devices responsibly—just like Big Tobacco. And, just like smokers, most of us also believe we’re free to quit whenever we want.
One important difference is that while only a handful of us smoke, everyone has a phone.
While the film generated substantial buzz, it has yet to generate the sort of groundswell to produce the change that’s necessary. The reason may be that there (still) haven’t been any large-scale, structural interventions against Big Tech—though we know that these are among the most effective. Harris continues to push for these reforms, but he is also enough of a realist to know that until such changes occur it is on us to protect ourselves and each other.
If you’re interested in learning more strategies that you can use to shield yourself, I recommend starting here. If you’d like to become part of the larger movement for humane tech and systemic changes, you can join in here.
In the meantime, watch your step—there’s rabbit holes everywhere.
