Exploring Idleness
As an experiment, I’ve been pursuing idleness in my in-between moments. I’ve mostly broken my scrolling habits (Instagram, Reddit, Twitter/Mastodon), and instead I’m consciously spending time observing the universe outside my body, and inside my mind. To fill the tactile void of a scrolly-thing in the palm of my hand, I’ve started reading books on my phone; this naturally requires deeper engagement, and when I can’t afford that time or focus, I’ve been leaving my phone in my pocket.
The impact of this behavior shift on my mind has been deeply positive. I’ve been feeling more centered and grounded, and more persistently connected with the world around me. It’s taken less energy to maintain active presence with my partner, friends, and coworkers, and I’ve felt more capable of developing coherent ideas over time. I’ve also been less stressed, even through an objectively turbulent period, perhaps because I’ve mostly pinched off the cortisol drip previously delivered by my news and social media apps.
I’ve also noticed a strange sort of self-consciousness in this new behavior. Directing my attention into my phone was previously a way to signal to others that I’m not a threat, nor am I looking to impose unwanted social connection. This awareness feels like a new phenomenon: I remember once feeling self-conscious about using my phone in public, and now I’m self-conscious about not using it. Has our online world become more comfortable than our IRL surroundings? That doesn’t seem great.
I was recently talking with a friend about how our idle minds are the prey of certain technology companies, and how their success is changing us. Our attention is lured into their products with entertaining or informative content, then captured in social feedback loops, and sold to the highest bidder. This feels like a Darwinian thing – a survival tactic that proliferates as corporations evolve in the modern capitalist wilderness. Bo Burnham’s colonial metaphor is valuable here as well: much as the demands of growth economics sent western explorers into the “new world”, content apps and wearable devices are now being deployed to colonize our idle minds.
As I ponder these things, I’m working hard to not feel too darkly about the way it is. This is how our world fits together. It’s science, math, or truth by some other name. I might as well seek positives: much of the modern internet has been funded by growth capital, and this colonial superstructure has enabled much of my career as well.
Nonetheless, I’m beginning to more deeply embrace my individual agency as both a consumer and creator of technology, and continuing to think critically about these relationships. I can tell that these budding thoughts and practices will positively transform my life, even with habits as simple as staring off into space a little more often.