The contradiction of tech and cause of my constant headaches

Being removed from many social networking sites changes almost entirely how socially competent I feel. And this is coming from someone ridiculously over-confident when faced with social interaction. Not knowing the current trends or buzzwords makes it nearly impossible to understand some of the conversations I’m having with my peers. There’s only so much that you can assume from watching others and oftentimes internet trends and fads cycle through people's vernacular so quickly that by the time I’ve come to understand them, I’m already out of touch (these cycles refresh about every 3 days or so).

And I don’t say this for the benefit of sounding far removed and pretentious, but it feels almost ironic how much social media is keen on promoting us to detox, to cleanse ourselves of it, whilst it has a chokehold on the way that we interact with one another even when screens aren’t present. It’s impossible to separate the city living, uni-going, full/part-time individual from their technology. Not because we’re all a little addicted (although…) but because we cannot function within the systems we belong to without the looming presence of our technology.

Critical to many of us is accessing Osiris/BB—  not to mention the double authentication for which you must now remove your carefully stowed away mobile phone (you were hoping to avoid its pixelating distractions but alas, here we are back where we started). International, or even national, students need maps and their phones to locate the cheapest supermarket within walking distance of their accommodation— for which, by the way— you need several online accounts in all corners of the internet to even hope to find a home.

Now, I’m not lamenting over a greatly technologically advanced environment and all the 21st-century problems that come with it (I am just a little), but rather that it has become a man-made horror to know we have become inseparable from our phones, laptops, etc. I take no issue with the washing machine.

This is by no means new and yet it feels nowhere near old. We are being sold the impossible feat of being removed, framing it as an indulgence — “Ten Tips for Your Next Instagram Detox”, “Five Ways to Lower Your Screen Time”, “How to Know if You’re Chronically Online.” But the truth is that these things do not work, not when we have formed a dependence that transcends addiction. Like the climate crisis or other international disasters, the media— time and time again, find a way to make it an individual problem. It's my Pinterest addiction or obsession with the perfect Instagram story that is holding me back from separating myself from my screen— in no way is it the fact that I am immobilised if my mobile device isn’t with me. I can’t Google translate the name of the food I’m looking for in the store, I can’t attend my online lesson to improve said lacking Dutch skills, I can’t get to my seat in the library, manage my banking, complete my Wordle, buy those textbooks, message my mom— Okay, enough.

Because all in all, I could do many, if not all, of these things without my phone. But the comfort and efficiency (note; not including the double authentication here) of these systems outweigh the desire to spend less time experiencing blue-light exposure. I suppose there’s just a deepening frustration in the fact that many of these, and other, activities are becoming more and more inaccessible to those who lack the appropriate side kicks (The iPhone 29). And that we are turning increasingly towards artificial methods (cough, ChatGPT) of achieving every little thing in the hope that we save some time to what? Turn back to the very technology that already clogs our days?

I hate to end so solemnly, so I will add a few of my favourite manual activities which I truly can abandon my phone for:

— stop with the notes app poetry; use one of the many half-filled notebooks stashed away.

— public library cards and their books (seriously libraries need us).

— water the dying houseplants on the windowsill.

— make a collage of all the random bits of paper that I’ve accumulated during the week (no legal documents, preferably).

— find a willing animal and pet it.