Edition #139: The New Rules of Communication
Plus, 10 thoughts on building a life you love, the unexpected gratitude of eating roast chicken after taking LSD, and dating app filters I'd actually use
A Note From the Editor
It started, for me, on AOL email. I was in fifth grade when my sister signed me up for an account using the name she and all my siblings had convinced me, by way of an elaborate scheme, was the real name on my birth certificate—Meghanopoly (@aol.com). I would sit on the family computer, positioned on the upstairs landing outside of my parent’s bedroom, and wait as the internet dialed up; a chorus of comically loud button-pressing noises followed by the frantic static sounds of the machine connecting me to the world.
I wanted an email address so I could visit the website they always referenced on The Amanda Show, which is no longer an active, individual website. The day I typed www.AmandaPlease.com into the browser and discovered a pixelated world of wonder, I was transported. Later that year, I would further dabble in the art of internet connection. First, via Neopets, a virtual world in which I could own a business and earn enough money to buy nice things for my pets (I did neither, content to spend my days getting cheap freebies from the money tree and playing games), and second, via AOL Instant Messanger.
I remember spending a few months in the summer with my cousins in Long Beach, a compact and mostly walkable town on Long Island that was nothing like the sprawling, highway-filled place where I lived in Central Florida. I’d peek over my cousin’s shoulder at his AIM screen and read a bevy of clever away messages providing real-time updates to a select, tight-knit group of friends: BRB at the basketball game // icecream @ carvel, then beach, then movies w Anna Banana // bagels w/ my gilriessssssss but y r u so obsessed w me? And obsessed I was, for up until this point, I was entirely unfamiliar with the concept of being able to share my whereabouts with my classmates.
On those early merging forms of social media, the internet was a playground of discovery and connection. Things moved slowly, compared to now, but faster than they ever had. The following year on MySpace, my eighth-grade friends and I discovered ways to express our creativity through elaborate profile building. The pre-made Myspace layouts weren’t enough for us; we learned basic coding to change fonts and colors, we chose our profile songs and changed them with fervor, ever-protective of the “good” music we discovered. We made Top 8 friend lists, then Top 4’s and Top 12’s, changing the order frequently to signal to others where our loyalty stood. Crafting these profiles felt akin to the way TV portrayed the sacred act of decorating your locker in middle school; something essential was revealed in the process. It was the first time we had the opportunity to control our public image outside of what we wore or how we acted in real life.
Cut to: today. If social media was once a place for exploration of self and digital connection, a playful place where we liked to spend time because it was novice and new, it is now an essential part of our everyday lives; one that elicits a lot more anger and sadness than it does joy. Every modern company thinks, perhaps correctly, that it needs a social media page. Young children have profiles manned by parents, artists and writers and creatives are expected to moonlight as aspiring social media influencers in order to get their work off the ground—because in this digital economy, attention is the most valuable currency. Followers pay. If not directly, by way of corporate partnerships. For most of us, it feels as though social media is less of an option and more of an obligation. You can’t be off social media or you’d practically cease to exist.
In this brilliant segment, one of my favorite writers talks about the vicious cycle of social media as it stands today. If this sounds boring to you—I would understand!—you should still take a few minutes to give it a watch, because the current situation is broken down so simply and it is an eye-opening reminder. The long and short of it is nothing you haven’t heard before—social media companies make more money off of us when we spend more time on their platforms, because if you strip down the silly videos and beautiful women in flowing dresses posing on the hills in Greece, all social media really is is a doctored up online marketplace for advertisements.
How do these companies manage to get us to spend so much time on their platforms? By making us feel terrible, of course! Highly charged emotions are key—we have to be angry (see: algorithms feeding us news and “news” of a particular politically-charged sort). We have to feel like we are the best person and everyone else who opposes our viewpoints is an absolute idiot. The worse we feel, the more we scroll. As Jia says in the interview, no one says “I had a great day today! I spent 4 hours scrolling.” The worse life is in real life, the more time people spend on the internet. And the more time people spend on the internet, especially on social media, the more stuff they will likely buy, and the crazier they will likely feel. And so the cycle continues.
Alas, there is another way. An option, of sorts—you can choose to spend less time on these platforms. I understand everyone’s situation is different and that for some, social media is a main method of connection with distant families and friends. For others, their careers hinge on actively participating in social media. And some people just genuinely enjoy it! I get that, too. But if you don’t, or if you find social media is sucking away your precious time, your life, and is leaving you feeling drained and sad and angry and helpless, it’s important to remember that you can take a break. Everything is optional, though in the current digital world, it rarely feels that way.
As I’ve mentioned here before, I’ve been taking my first-ever break from social media—not because I was actively feeling terrible from it, but because I was getting too much satisfaction from things I realized, deep down, didn’t matter at all. There is no staying power in likes or comments or any of that—zoom out and you realize in a few days, it’ll all be gone, buried on a feed somewhere, and in a few weeks, anything you post today isn’t going to matter or be remembered, no matter how exciting or sad or flashy it is. That’s just the model; the most sensational news gets the attention, we thrive off the attention, and the attention is yanked away. It reminds me of whack-a-mole; the only way to stay on top is to keep posting, keep whacking, and there is no end to this game.
It’s been just two months since I’ve been off Instagram, and what a time it has been! I’ve learned quite a bit about my communication style and our collective methods of gathering information/news/generally connecting. Whether or not you decide to take your own little social media break—I don’t know whether this will be forever or not, only time will tell—just try to imagine a world in which you could choose to be off social media. Or, imagine a world in which you didn't primarily communicate through social media. It’s a wild concept, but not impossible. In such a world, the quality of life would be better. Maybe we could even be online in a way that makes us feel better, not worse. In a world in which you take a small or big step away from social, here are the new rules of communication:
Don't apologize for the delay in response. “Apologies for my delay,” or “I’m just now seeing this,” are never, ever true, and the idea that we should all be available 24/7 is insane. It’s our time spent on the internet that has set this ridiculous precedent—texts, messages, DMs, emails, etc. You shouldn’t have to feel bad for not picking up your phone, but you also don’t want to ruin important relationships. As a workaround, don't ghost, but give clear instructions on how you're feeling and when you'll be ready to respond. “I can’t answer now, but I’ll reply within the week,” or “I don’t have the capacity for this right now, but I’ll get back to you when I do,” could work. At the very least, attempt to rid yourself of the upfront “apologies for the delay” habit, as the real issue is not the delay, but the expectation that you should be readily available 24/7 in the first place.
When you have good news, share it directly with your immediate circle. This one’s oddly hard. Until I was in the process of directing and producing my first short film without being on social, I didn’t realize how reliant I’d become on Instagram stories to share all of my good/big news with the people I loved—and with a bunch of other randoms on the internet as a result. Suddenly, I had to text photos from the shoot to my family and my friends when I wanted to share the process with them, which felt a bit vulnerable; like I was asking for praise. In a way, I was, but it was more personal and intentional than a blanket Instagram Story. Give this a try—share your good news directly with those you love before you post about it, if you ever do. Get out of the habit of expecting them to see your big or small news on social. In short, be intentional about pulling those important people into your life and holding them there. Treat them differently tn you do all those strangers on the internet.
Decondition yourself from needing praise over every tiny action. I read once that when we share our ideas and plans, we’re getting a false sense of satisfaction without having to do the actual work, which can prevent us from doing the actual work needed to accomplish the thing. As in, telling a group of people you’re writing a novel and getting praise without ever having to write the thing. Social amplifies this tenfold. On social, we can get attention and praise from every little aspect of our daily life, from what we made for breakfast (it’s so pretty!) to a certain book we’re reading (such good taste!). When we’re deeply conditioned to receive praise on a regular basis, we can easily slip into a headspace where we feel lost or worthless without it. On the other side of this, I will tell you it feels so, so wonderful not to be reaching for my phone 20 times a day to see who approves of me. In the absence of digital approval, you find other, more intrinsic ways of feeling satisfied with yourself.
Pause the virtue signaling for a period of time. We can probably all agree, the world feels quite shitty in recent years and it’s understandable to be angry about many things happening. Read news, listen to podcasts, and talk to friends, but try to refrain from posting about all of it for a period of time. See what that feels like. It’ll help you get back in touch with what actually pisses you off, what doesn't, and what issues mean the most to you. It’ll also help to reinstate your internal anger scale, because not everything should throw everyone into outrage—i.e. a celebrity saying something offensive is not the same as a school shooting, but social media amplifies every issue to the same degree simply because of the algorithmic format. And remember, the angrier we are, the more time we spend on the platform.
Shrink your circle. This has been one of the most valuable parts of my social media pause. When you aren't on social, who still shows up in your life? Who is still interested in keeping up, reaching out? How many relationships rely on digital tethers, and how many people’s existence do you fully forget when you don’t see them on your feed? A German friend of mine once remarked that Americans tend to designate a wide, loose circle of people as “friends”—we have work friends, school friends, and actual friends, etc. Not being digitally connected to such a wide group of people has helped me remember those who are the priority in my life; who will matter 20 years from now when these platforms will probably no longer exist the way they do today.
Seek expanders. If you’re like me and are considering taking a more permanent step away from one or more social media platforms, it helps to find other people you admire who have done the same. People who are using the internet in different ways, people with different communication styles—the well-known movie director with no social, the writer with no Twitter account—to show you what is possible. Which is anything.
Cheers, my dears, and as always, thanks for reading! If you liked today’s edition, please share it with somebody you love—or with a bunch of strangers on the internet, no judgment here! And if you look forward to reading along each week, consider upgrading to a paid subscription. It’s worth it for the content recommendations alone this week, which include a list of tangible ways to build a life you love, two beautiful personal essays, and some other fun stuff.
As for me, I’m officially back in the USA. I went to an American grocery store for the first time in nearly five months and felt like a tourist. I couldn’t believe the selection, the sheer number of items available. Tomorrow I head back to NYC after a lovely, slow week in Florida with my family. I plan to spend this weekend having sleepovers with some of my best friends, eating an obscene amount of dumplings, and crying about the weather. Wish me luck! And if you can, go see a movie in theatres this weekend—which is one of the activities I’m most looking forward to.