A Case for Slow Media

After spending hours of my Christmas break slumped in my room, endlessly scrolling, I decided 2026 was going to be the year I finally took the leap and deleted TikTok. On January 1^st, I felt like a new woman. I woke up, ate my breakfast, and simply stared into space — my eyes no longer glued to a mindless yet overwhelming stream of media before it even hit 9 am. 

However, as often happens with New Year’s resolutions, the liberation I felt in those first few days was quickly replaced by self-doubt and, I hate to admit it, a hint of regret. My brain craved the instant dopamine hit once provided by short-form videos, and (disappointingly, around January 3^rd) I gravitated towards the dreaded Instagram Reels. Here, I found an unfulfilling assortment of terrifying statistics, warped medical advice, fake news, and influencer ‘day-in-my-life’ videos, all of which made me feel an unsettling combination of groggy, anxious, and overstimulated. 

At this point, despite the year already being underway, I realised that simply removing TikTok from my life wouldn’t solve everything. Instead, I needed to make an active effort to slow down and consume media that made me pause, digest, and most importantly, think. This, I decided, would be my goal for 2026.

The Shift Towards Slow-Media

I’ve noticed that this social-media burnout and growing desire for ‘slow-media’ extends beyond my own inner musings. I’ve seen (ironically, through videos and articles online) debates about whether it’s now ‘cool’ to be ‘chronically offline’. While listening to Emma Chamberlain’s recent podcast episode titled ‘My Ins and Outs for 2026,’ I picked up on her pronouncement that ‘eloquence’ and ‘growing your vocabulary’ were firmly in, while Gen-Z slang popularised by platforms like TikTok and Instagram was decidedly embarrassing and most certainly out. What interested me the most was her suggestion that this shift could be achieved by consuming more challenging books and articles—in other words, slow media.  

While it may seem counterintuitive for an online trend to discourage being online, I think this new approach carries almost entirely positive consequences. Rather than promoting abstinence, slow media encourages intentionality. It urges us to question what we consume, how we consume it, and perhaps most importantly, how it makes us feel. In doing so, it discourages passivity and urges us to become more critical and thoughtful consumers.

From my (now two-week-long!) escapade into the world of slow media, I have a few thoughts. First, despite spending slightly more time on Instagram Reels than I’d like to admit, I’ve found myself with notably more time for other, slower forms of entertainment. I finally got around to reading the Substack article that had been lingering on the periphery of my mental to-do list and made a significant dent in my Netflix watchlist. While neither of these pursuits might traditionally be considered ‘productive’, they left me feeling more intentional, relaxed, and inspired than the hours I once spent consuming short-form content. I’ve also noticed my attention span returning, allowing me to sit through TV shows or podcast episodes without the urge to scroll at the same time.

SLOW-MEDIA RECOMMENDATIONS

If my case for slow media is at all convincing, let me offer some recommendations! As I mentioned, I’ve been enjoying Substack articles, particularly those by Mina Le, and making a conscious effort to properly focus on podcasts, which used to function as background noise. Lately, I’ve been loving Jemma Sbeg’s ‘The Psychology of your 20s’. I’ve also been making time to simply enjoy music, movies, and television. And if I do feel the urge to scroll, I’ve found myself curating my many Pinterest boards instead, which (for me, at least), feels more intentional.  

Most significantly, I’ve noticed myself becoming more comfortable with stillness. The moments of silence I previously felt a need to fill—such as brushing my teeth or waiting for my coffee—have become ones I now appreciate. These small pauses allow me to sit with my own thoughts rather than those of a hundred others. I can feel my nervous system beginning to calm, and my instinctive desire to rush or maximise every moment (often to a detrimental degree) starts to relax. While cutting out all social media, even short-form content, may be unrealistic, perhaps choosing one piece of slow media a day is enough to help us reclaim our own thoughts and become more intentional, mindful human beings. 

• entertainment
• mental health
• phone
• social media
• tiktok
• wellbeing