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I Used To Be Human: A Review of Digital Minimalism
There was a time, not too long ago, when social media promised freedom from boredom, more robust community, greater efficiencies, and access to networks. However, these promises have come at the cost of our humanity. The addictive overuse of social media has led, as author and computer science professor Cal Newport argues, to increased anxiety, less focused productive work, and a decrease in meaningful relationships. These pressures have been amplified, no doubt, by the Covid-19 driven increase in remote work and the associated screen fatigue.
In his book Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World, Newport articulates his case for a life focused on deep value-add activities and reducing time spent in the “attention economy” or, as the title suggests, becoming a digital minimalist. This practice is sorely needed and especially timely in a post-pandemic world as we slowly emerge from our homes and reconnect with the people we’ve only seen via screens for the last year.
Newport is an associate processor of computer science at Georgetown University and has authored several books, including Deep Work and A World Without Email. He is something of a tech-savvy and pop-culture Wendell Berry-lite for the 21st century as he encourages a distracted and anxious generation to stabilize around values of greater importance than the next trending hashtag. In Digital Minimalism, he successfully describes and defends this philosophy that prioritizes long-term meaning over short-term satisfaction and does so in two sections of his book. Part one focuses on the why-- or the foundation on which a digital minimalist philosophy is built. Part two answers the how and offers a pragmatic approach to living a digitally decluttered lifestyle.
Part one begins by presenting the case for digital minimalism with a review of the concerning aspects of social media. As many techno-apologists quickly point out, there are seemingly endless advantages to leveraging these platforms; we use these tools to stay connected with old friends or join new communities of interest. But, Newport argues, it’s not the usefulness that is at contention. It’s the loss of autonomy. He points to Michael Zeiler’s research on pecking pigeons to illustrate that unpredictability is far more enticing than a constant outcome. In humans, unpredictability triggers the release of more dopamine and, therefore, has a greater addictive nature than the predictable outcomes. The top engineers in the world are working in Silicon Valley to win our attention and they use unpredictability (the number of likes or other metrics) to entice our constant scrolling. This attention economy--think Facebook, Twitter, Netflix, news headlines etc.--has turned us, the consumers, into products, as social media giants sell your attention to the highest bidder.
To defend against this addiction, Newport proposes that consumers intentionally analyze each application and technology prior to downloading or engaging with it. He defines digital minimalism as: “A philosophy of technology used in which you focus online time on a small number of carefully selected and optimized activities that strongly support things you value and then happily miss out on everything else.”1
Instead of recommending a blanket ban on all social media, streaming services, video games, and other attention-consuming tech, Newport wisely suggests goals that are more attainable for the average digital consumer and shows his understanding of human psychology. For example, instead of deleting one’s Netflix account, Newport recommends only watching Netflix with friends or family. The principle and goal is to focus daily activities on items of true meaning and value.
Part two focuses on how to engage with and enjoy a newly decluttered lifestyle. Newport suggests prioritizing solitude, rich and complex face-to-face conversations, and genuine leisure time. He not only highlights the benefits of these activities using ancient philosophy and modern neuroscience research but he provides practical suggestions on how to implement these recommendations.
While Newport writes primarily about the digital consumer’s private decisions, I’d suggest that digital minimalism can--and should--find its way into the workplace, where emails, pings and unproductive Zoom meetings slowly eat away at productive hours and where we hone our fast-twitch muscles perusing a hundred unpredictable Slack channels, all in a futile attempt to be in the know. With the current corporate focus on health and well-being, employees should be empowered and encouraged to set digital boundaries and to focus, instead, on clear and precise deliverables.
While Newport has composed an approachable and timely work on the necessity of slowing down and being intentional, he is missing one key element. He lays out many of the negative consequences of a distracted and anxious lifestyle but fails to answer, as the catechisms of old teach, what is the chief end (or purpose) of humankind. We know what we’re against; but what are we for? Without answering this question, digital minimalism may simply be the next fad, up there with Peloton and Hello Fresh. Perhaps embracing digital minimalism will create the mental space each of us needs to answer this for ourselves.
To escape the mindless slot machine-like feedback loop of a mobile feed refresh, we may not need to “walk into the woods, to live deliberately.”2 But, Newport suggests, we must intentionally prioritize genuinely human activities like conversations and deep work in order to find the meaning this generation is craving. Perhaps Wendell Berry said it best. “Slow down. Pay attention. Do good work. Love your neighbors. Love your place. Stay in your place. Settle for less and enjoy it more.”3
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