63 — Scrolling for air, blindfolded.
I feel overwhelmed by the amount of books I want to read. There’s a solid stack sitting on my desk reminding me of it every time I sit down to work. Then there’s another stack on top of the bookshelf, right next to the desk, of titles mentioned by authors whose books I’m currently reading, there, just in case I miss the first visual reminder. Another stack sits on my nightstand. One more on the sofa table. There’s even one on the kitchen table because I might have time to read on my lunch break. I might have time - then I looked at my screen time.
I spend on average three hours per day on my phone. Three hours, waking hours. Outside of email, messages, and a few productivity-related apps, the bulk of those hours is spent, in order of percentage, on: TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. In the moment, fifteen minutes here and there doesn’t feel like much, but when I add up those small windows of time, there I am, hollowed out, robbed of time, with an incredibly fatigued brain.
“Three hours is not a big deal”, my friends say while admitting to a much higher screen time. But why do I still feel so bad about it?
I’m in the process of trying new things to improve how much time I spend on these apps and the quality of the content I consume. I might even go as far as to become, an ‘algnostic’ - a new word invented by the ingenious Seb Emina describing someone who “avoids anything that’s been pre-curated by an algorithm, especially feed-based social media. Often likes to browse in the old way, by actively checking newspaper home pages or the blogs of favourite florists. May also eschew stuff like Google search results and the Netflix homepage, depending on severity of creed.”.
I set rules and time blocks around controlled usage like ‘no social media before breakfast’. I turn my screen on greyscale because findings indicate it to be an effective strategy for improving digital-wellbeing. I even downloaded an app blocker that is supposed to help curb specific apps’ usage although I ended up spending just as much time on social media but with the added time-consuming hurdle of having to bypass the blocking app increasing my overall screen time.
Andrew Huberman and Emma Chamberlain, as they’d have the same weight on this matter, talk about the wonderful benefits of having two separate phones. Huberman says: “Putting your social media apps on a separate phone—and not giving out that number or using it for calls or texts—can make you incredibly productive. If you can't afford two phones, I suggest using an old one for social media. Then, dedicate one to two focused blocks of time to it. You'll be amazed at how much time you recover for meaningful work. I took Goggins' advice to heart: it's actually pretty easy to excel nowadays if you focus on meaningful builds. I limit social media to one hour per day, at most, and it's working for me. That's all platforms, combined.”1
I might be trying this approach next.
It’s the idle moments that get to me, like waiting for files to render, or for food to cook. That’s when I find myself, phone in hand, scrolling. I am a passive consumer of algorithmic choices served to me on an addictive silver platter. The internet is what you make of it, sure, but there’s no amount of curating that helps me stay focused or fully in charge of my own time. Those idle moments are oxygen for the brain and without them, I’m afraid I’ll lose the ability to see and think clearly.
I’m at a place where I don’t want to pick up my phone and mindlessly scroll every chance I get, just because I have a few gaps of time at hand. I want to allow my mind to wander and daydream, I want to give it space to reflect and process what I consume. I want to get through the pile of books that cover every surface of my apartment without feeling suffocated by the little time I seem to have.
This is starting to feel more like a diary entry in which I admit to some sort of phone addiction rather than an entertaining essay. I’ll stop here.
Andrew Huberman on putting your social media apps on a separate phone