What do you think will be different now, 120 seconds after you last checked your feed? Will there be a new comment of effusive praise? A new like? Maybe a new follower, who may or may not be a real person?
I see you scrolling over there, like you're doing God's work.
I do it too. We all do it. But does that make it okay?
When your screen isn't immediately available, you get nervous. If it's not sitting within direct eyesight you get worried.
The vibrations hold us accountable and the uncertainty is addicting. Will this be the hit that fulfills the original promise? Will it deliver that sweet, sweet high you've have been chasing for so long? Will this new notification make you feel loved?
Sure, sometimes you really do just need to check the time. But more often than not that's just an excuse, and not a very good one. It's an excuse for your brain to justify unlocking the screen, one more time, to see if there's any more love to extract.
Any excuse will suffice; we even create false positives, phantom vibrations that never actually happened. Sometimes you feel these phantom vibrations even when the phone isn't even in your pocket, sitting on a desk or table with its screen facing upward; lighting up like a beacon when you are needed by someone else in another time and another place.
Just let me check one more time, you say. Just once more. This will be the last time I check, until the next time, and I don't know when the next one will come so I need to check now. This is the behavior of a person with a problem. This is the behavior of a person enslaved. This is the behavior of an addict, and the substance we are addicted to is love. Deep down we all know this. And yet we don't stop. Screens don't cause cancer, at least not like cigarettes do. And so we continue.
Unlike drugs, you do not develop a tolerance to the love you extract from life. You can only develop a tolerance to how that love is delivered. Screens are a poor delivery mechanism for love, and so the potency is diminished with each new arrival. We either spend more time with loved ones or spend even more time digging into our screens.
So naturally, you wonder, "how do we increase the potency of love we get from our screens?" This is a fun question, and makes one ponder the future platforms that may take down today's behemoths. But it's important to remember that question is not always the right question. Ask yourself, "How do we find new ways of receiving love? How do we find new ways of sharing our love with the world?"
There isn't an immediate or necessarily correct answer to any of these questions, at least not one that is all-inclusive. But the mere act of asking them is almost like covering a leak up with your hands: at best something to stop the water, at worst something to provide peace of mind.
Recognize the power that the screen provides, but always remember: you control it, not the other way around.
Author's note: This story was originally posted almost exactly one year ago, on January 17, 2017. This version is slightly edited and includes a couple links to some recent research. I've only just joined Steem and this is my first post, so it's encouraging to already see that others on Steem are thinking about similar ideas. This community makes me genuinely excited to be online and I am very much looking forward to the future. -TG
