At ten a.m. on a Saturday morning in late September, as part of a class assignment, I cut myself off from the civilized world and went electronic media-free for twenty-four hours. It was challenging, but one of the most worthwhile experiences I’ve had in a while. Stepping out of my media-saturated world forced me to evaluate my own habits and relationships, and I was surprised by some of the things I learned about myself.
As I turned off my phone and computer, I felt an unexpected jolt of anxiety and something almost like grief. Though I would still have my roommates and other friends around Fordham, I had just given up my way of contacting many of the most important people in my life — my family and friends from home. While I knew that they had other ways of contacting me in case something happened, I couldn’t help but worry. It’s only 24 hours, I told myself. I’ll just go to bed early and sleep through it.
In lieu of my normal sources of entertainment, I decided to spend my day reading a book for fun, something I rarely do anymore. I brought about a hundred books to school with me, but none that I could read during this assignment, as they are all located on my Kindle. I went to the library in advance and, keeping in the spirit of the assignment, checked out a copy of Lewis Dartnell’s The Knowledge: How to Rebuild Our World From Scratch, which explores basic principles of technology that would be crucial to rebuilding after an apocalyptic event. Dartnell discusses how we take things like sound recording, radio communication, and other forms of media for granted, and people have become so specialized that almost no one actually knows how these things work. It really made me think about how much I rely on technology that I know nothing about, how many tiny pieces — from the rare minerals used for the touch screen to the science of cell towers and satellites — go into me being able to use something as simple as my iPhone.
As a self-described Netflix addict, I was sure that I would go into withdrawal from missing out on my favorite FBI agents chasing down aliens and government conspiracies (Yes, I’m re-watching The X-Files). However, I actually didn’t miss watching television as much as I thought I would. Although using streaming services makes me more mindful of the content I’m watching (none of that “just leaving the tv on” and half-watching Friends reruns), I realized that I often use watching TV shows as a way to fill up my time when I don’t want to do anything constructive, kind of like eating when I’m bored.
The media source that I craved the most was music, which I was not expecting. I am constantly listening to music, whether I’m working on homework, exercising, or just walking from one place to another. One of my roommates calls this “blocking out the world,” and I strongly disagreed with her until I went for a run around campus without music. In short, it was awful, but also very enlightening. Without distraction, I was hyperaware of my body: my heart beating, my muscles aching, my ragged breathing (Disclaimer: I’m in terrible shape). But as I ran, I heard birds chirping, cars honking, sirens blaring, and snippets of conversation from people I passed by. I felt a deeper sense of connection to the world, a moving part in it, rather than just an observer. Briefly escaping my self-created bubble opened my eyes to experiences I normally block out. But still, I will not be running without music any time soon again.
About ten hours in, bored out of my mind, I begged my friends do something electronic-free with me to keep me sane. We decided to play cards. It sounds a little crazy, but those few hours playing cards, completely in the moment, not looking at our phones every five seconds, were some of the most important we have ever spent together. One hour of quality time is worth fifty of half-ignoring each other while using phones. Facebook and texting and Snapchat and the ten thousand other ways were are able to constantly stay in touch with others are so great for communicating with people from afar, but often prevent us from fully engaging with those right in front of us.
I would love to say that this experience has changed my media consumption habits and I’m ready to pull a Thoreau and live in the woods somewhere, free of the shackles of modern technology. But at ten a.m. on Sunday, I turned on my phone and immediately posted on Twitter, answered texts, and sent a few Snapchats. I unashamedly watched Netflix, called my parents, and listened to Spotify. In the end, all I can say is that this made me more aware of my behavior, and more grateful for the plethora of entertainment and communication tools right at my fingertips. Maybe it’s not much, but it’s a lot more than most other people can say. And it’s certainly more than I could have said a few weeks ago.