FYI, doomscrolling in 2026 is out — at least, according to the cool girls of the internet. According to the trendsetters, this year is all about analog hobbies: making scrapbooks from the photos taken on our digital cameras, joining hiking and running clubs, and even using flip phones for communication in order to cut down on screen time. In short, this year is about being intentional with your time, creating memories and not just (Instagram) stories. Those who feel this way want to be present to do the things that really matter to them: see your friends, talk to strangers, finish the book, learn to play that instrument. And increasingly, people are realizing that in order to do this, they need to cut back on scrolling, with some even going so far as to take a social media detox.
Think of it this way: How many times have you opened Instagram or TikTok to pass the time between classes or while you wait for a friend to meet you in the dining hall? And how many times do you end up spending more time scrolling than you would like to admit? If I had to guess, the answer is probably “too much.” But cutting back on social media doesn’t mean you’re expected to burn your phone and send carrier pigeons to your friends instead of Reels. Sometimes, in my opinion, substitution is the solution. And for that I present to you: Substack.
In recent months, you might have noticed more and more Gen Z influencers and celebrities are moving to Substack. Three weeks ago, I made the same decision, as part of my New Year’s resolution to stop doomscrolling. Life already moves fast enough, and Substack offers something most platforms don’t: time and space to breathe. Whereas platforms like TikTok and Instagram capitalize on short attention spans and FOMO, the Substack community is built through sharing essays, podcasts, art, and more, all in a slow-paced, intentional algorithm geared toward exploration and expression. I switched to this platform because I was tired of feeling like I had to keep up, perform, or consume content at a pace that left no room to actually think — and I am not going back.
Plus, on Substack, the focus shifts from who you appear to be to what you care about. The platform encourages people to value what they create and to share it with others. This is the place to post the cat drawings you did instead of reading for your class, to read about why “I’m So Lonely” is the most important line in Little Women, or to skip the Reel on how to get rich in 20 days or less and replace it with the short essay “the cost of the unlived life.” Not only will you be entertained, but also, you’ll be informed — aka, you’ll finally be able to say “I read about this,” knowing it wasn’t in a TikTok comment section. That’s reason enough for me.