I Am Done With Doomscrolling

I am done with Doomscrolling. I gave it up.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a weak moment and go back, but I’ve taken a substantial break, and I’m going to recommend this to everyone I know. Doomscrolling drains us emotionally and physically, and on its own, it doesn’t add any important action to the world.

Here are things I’m not suggesting:

I’m not suggesting that we become uninformed. I’m definitely not talking about putting our heads in the sand metaphorically (which is also a great privilege some cannot choose). I’m not talking about leaving social media to the point that we feel wildly isolated from the updates of our friends.

But I am talking about noticing those moments when we’re drawn to scroll repeatedly through bad news, feeling shock and horror, and immersing ourselves in hard things.

Instead of Doomscrolling, here are things I am planning to do:

— I want my news to be peopled. I want to engage news intentionally as a regular part of my day. These days, read a few newsletters, and I listen to a particular podcast. Then I am asking questions like, how can I act on what I just heard? Is there a person I need to reach out to? Should I share this somewhere? Can I give to a resource, or is there a resource I should with others? Should I follow this organization on social media? How can I connect with loved ones impacted by this?

So often, we hear, see, or scroll through these things passively and feel like we can’t take action. When we do take action, even if it’s just to ask a question about possible action, our bodies feel active instead of passive.

A friend said recently to me, “We probably wouldn’t listen to a person tell the same story 15 times at the dinner table. Why am I doing that with media?”

— I am still going to post on social media, and I’m going to check in with friends’ posts, but I am going to spend way less time there. I read recently that the average person in this country is spending two hours a day on social media platforms. These algorithms are initiating our emotions at best, and inciting us or manipulating us at worst. I don’t feel like giving these algorithms that much of my thinking and feeling space. I’d rather give that time to people I love with voices, texts, conversations, and in-person time.

So goodbye, Doomscrolling. I’d rather do these.

This is just me, and others may have different rhythms that sustain them. But whatever they are for each of us, I invite us to choose them intentionally again. What are yours?

—Renee Roederer