This article is part of Upstream, The Daily Wire’s new home for culture and lifestyle. Real human insight and human stories — from our featured writers to you.
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I saw her big announcement on Instagram. Stay in touch on Facebook. They posted about it. Did you hear the news?
Any person under 30 has heard these conversation hooks enough times to know how much of modern life happens online. Personal news, events, and drama all center on the posts and comments circulating. Today, 65% of Generation Z is on Instagram, and 58% is on TikTok. I’m not one of them.
I know just how much I miss out by not liking, sharing, or following. There are friends whom I only hear about in whispers through the grapevine now, life updates that I learn about after the fact, and social functions that I miss out on. But despite this, I’m stalwart in my anti-social media stance.
I’m at an advantage, having never been allowed on social media during the young teenage years when the scrolling habit starts, but seeing just how much life happens online, and what I miss out on, has only compelled me further to stay offline.
The mental health consequences of social media have been recounted thousands of times, but what truly disturbed me about some of my generation’s social media habits was how disconnected they were from each other, despite being more “connected” than ever. Real connection has been swapped for the updates in Instagram posts from people who haven’t spoken in years.
Rather than being friends who share their deepest secrets, acquaintances who catch up occasionally over coffee, or complete strangers, everyone is trapped in a parasocial hell. Neither friends nor enemies nor strangers, many of my peers exist to each other only as the curation of whichever posts happen to pass through one another’s feeds. If they are lucky enough, they bump into each other in real life to catch up on everything else.
The fear of missing an update ever looms, too. Staying away from the feed for too long could mean missing something apparently important, and the very existence of the awaiting algorithm is temptation to log in and check what everyone else is doing. I know I miss out by not being on social media, but without the curated feed in the first place, the temptation (and fear) is gone.
By missing out, I know that I’m also cutting off many old connections from seeing into my life, and tepid friendships unfortunately turn cold as life brings each of us into new seasons. But this also leaves us free to move on with our lives — and happily catch up if we meet again. In contrast, even a “private” social media account makes every personal update available to any old interlopers still following from bygone eras. Or, as one of my friends from adolescence unfortunately found out, a hacked account can quickly be set from private to public to advertise a crypto scam — along with every old post. And in the era of AI, deep fakes, data mining, and digital stalking, having a low online profile is even more appealing.
Plus, there are moments that most of us would rather not have immortalized online. Who wants their teenage phases forever left for a future employer or first date to find? Even as an adult, I find that there are seasons to life that ebb and flow. Retaining a sense of privacy and discretion is a lost art. Rather than blasting our lives to the world, we once had a narrow sphere of public life: weddings, births, obituaries, and anything else that made the local paper.
Instead of scrolling social media, here’s how I stay connected. I do still check the local paper (rather, its online website) for any happenings, and I write up the annual Christmas card for my parents and immediate family each year and include my own small set of updates.
There are, however, less ancient swaps for social media updates. For instance, whenever I have an important life change, I personally email or text friends and family who should know — and who won’t hear it firsthand from me sooner. In turn, I ask them how they’re doing and ask about their lives. I’m also upfront with anyone new I meet who mentions social media: “I’m not on social media,” I simply say, “but do you have an email or phone number?”
Besides these one-on-one avenues, I’m also signed up for a few email newsletters for associations I’m interested in, rather than following their social media feeds. And finally, I’m judicious about joining every group chat for mutual friends or interest groups, muting most notifications and manually checking each one to catch up a few times each week.
My small confession is that I don’t get away with no social media accounts. I use LinkedIn to stay professionally connected, I keep an eye on news trends via an empty X account, and I have a friend-less Facebook account if I ever need it for a golden marketplace find. But it’s a far cry from the hours of posting, liking, and scrolling that my generation averages.
Instead, I spend that time enjoying the company of real people I know, intentionally seeking out opportunities and activities I enjoy, and cultivating personal connection.
Yes, there are opportunities I miss. There are friends who fall away because we’re not liking each other’s pictures. There are major life updates that I hear second-hand. But I’m not pining over a curated highlight reel of someone else’s life. I’m not trapped in the parasocial zone with old acquaintances. And I know that every person in my life is truly in my life — not just there online.
I’m not the only one in my generation logging off: my own reasons are the same ones I’ve heard echoed from the intentionally offline among 20-somethings. So, to any trepidatious fellow Gen Zers, we invite you to log off and join us. The real world awaits.
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Jordan Jantz is the assistant editor at IW Features as well as a freelance writer, editor, and website designer.
