Dystopian Social Media

I have not gone two days without social media for the last ten years. Last week, however, I finally disconnected from everything except phone calls for 36 hours. It was an out of body experience; I was on an emotional roller coaster of perpetual emptiness and anxiety mixed with a sublime relaxation I had only felt before when juice fasting. After the initial shock and habitual glances at a blank phone, I generally was calm and at peace. Through the experience, I gained a new perspective on mobile phones and I now see why many people favor the dystopian view of social media usage. While I once thought that people just loved to be cynical, I see how technology is drastically warping our lives and changing human interaction. By talking face-to-face

and over the phone to people who I usually text, I felt like I absorbed more out of our conversations and thus I saw how shallow contemporary communication is. Nevertheless, my addiction to artificial interaction will continue because I rely on it for my weak-tie connections, self-actualization and staying in the loop.

I relate my new clarity on the negative effects of social media on interaction and the psyche to the dystopian views in the essays by Baym and Przybylski. My eyes have been opened to the superiority of living life beyond the internet medium; furthermore, I believe my fear of missing out is ultimately the root of my social media fixation and unplugging is the best remedy.
My healthy disconnect from artificial interaction gave me a positive experience that shined light on what Baym conveys about personal connection and Przybylski’s elaboration of the “fear of missing out.” By not using social media, I felt more at ease because I had no obligation hanging over me to Tweet my thoughts or report how I was doing. I also had to call my fraternity brothers or ask them in person about important announcements instead of checking Groupme. Further, I had more face-to-face interactions in my dorm elevator because I did not have my phone to distract me and relieve social tension. These real conversations, though less convenient, felt more fulfilling. I noticed, as Baym points out in “Connections,” that it was more private and personal to talk this way. The 36 hours of regular face-to-face discussions I had were deeper than the artificial ones I was used to because of

“body-to-body” cues like eye contact, hand gestures, and voice changes that made my conversations more dynamic (9). For example, the void of social media made me have an argument with my friend that would normally happen over text; as we yelled at each other without a filter about our conflicting weekend plans, I could see anger rising through the veins in his face. Because we were authentic and had our hearts on our sleeves instead of hiding behind a keyboard, we were better able to resolve the conflict while feeling closer emotionally afterwards. My disconnect from social media not only made me feel the power of real human interaction, but also shined light on why I am addicted to my phone. I realized I get anxiety when trying to sleep without checking my phone because I fear missing out on connecting with my strong and weak ties on Facebook and Snapchat, as well as losing knowledge of current events on Reddit and ESPN. Like Przybylski describes in his essay, I get anxious about staying out of the loop though these shallow ways of connecting are inferior to real human interaction (1). My anxieties about losing certain networks have no easy fix, but I’m glad unplugging revealed these truths to me so I can look at social media with a fresh perspective. I now see that the cyber world, while alleviating individuals’ fear of missing out, will ultimately make one miss out on truly connecting with others and living life to the fullest.