On New Year’s day, I hid my iPhone under a bed pillow as though it were a pack of Camel Lights. Since I’d made a 2024 resolution to limit my Instagram scrolling to once per week, it seemed wise to keep that happy-hued app out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Not really. In moments of downtime before the Rose Bowl, it pulled at my brain like a dangled carrot. Surely I was missing an updated stream of ski trips, gingerbread chalets and perhaps even the jackpot of all holiday posts — a puppy someone got for Christmas.
In the grand scheme of things, my Instagram usage was pretty low. (Sure, I admit to watching the likes pour in after my scenic posts and enjoying the dopamine hits like a little-red-heart junkie.) Yet, at the same time, I didn’t think my usage was low enough. More than a decade after that fateful summer night when I first clicked share, I’ve speculated that Instagram has affected my attention span. Back in the day, I could cram an entire U.S. history book into my head over a long weekend. Now, I was patting myself on the back for reading fifteen uninterrupted pages of Bonnie Garmus’s novel “Lessons in Chemistry” (which I really need to finish so I can move on to the miniseries).
Don’t get me wrong, I like to like. I like posts of fiery sunsets, group selfies on chairlifts and even slow-motion golf swings. But there comes a point where the brain on Instagram is taken on so many self-imposed tangents from the rush of images, information and click-bait captions, that figurative smoke must be rising from our ears. In 2023, the Surgeon General released “Social Media and Youth Mental Health,” a twenty-five page advisory you can find online if you’re looking for a little light reading. But what about us adults — aren’t we just grown children?
During the countdown to 2024, I caught some of CNN’s “New Year’s Eve Live with Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen” (featuring foreign correspondent John Mayer at a Tokyo cat bar). Amid the giggle fest, Cohen shared that his New Year’s resolution was to spend less time on his cell phone. I’m curious how he and everyone else who aimed for this popular goal are doing on disconnecting. As for me, the Instagram cravings started coming on strong. By January 3rd, I was mentally drafting new rules for my resolution — all I wanted was a little Insta hit. I then tried to hold out by envisioning my future social media-detoxed self radiating a calmness and clarity about life à la Rick Rubin. It was a nice thought, but by January 4th, I completely caved.
New Year’s resolutions are made to be broken, or so I justified as I feverishly logged into Instagram, seeking answers to my burning question: What was everyone I haven’t seen in years up to? A wave of relief washed over me as I scrolled through posts of matching Christmas pajamas, European adventures and warm-weather escapes. This is what it must feel like to dive into a vat of ice cream after attempting the paleo diet, I thought — oh, the delicious gluttony. But let’s be real, I did much unhealthier things in 2023 than clocking time on Instagram. Did anyone else binge watch “The Golden Bachelor”?
I then remembered a “Mad Men” episode where it’s New Years Eve (almost 1968) and snow is falling outside Don and Megan’s Upper East Side penthouse apartment. “I think it’s time we all took a trip to Hawaii,” says Megan to the neighbors after they’ve finished a fondue dinner. Don reluctantly breaks out the slide projector and flips through snapshots of the couple’s tropical getaway. Fast-forward to 2024 and here’s the funny thing — us Instagram viewers are not those obliged dinner party guests. Even without Don Draper, melted cheese and Manhattan skyline views, we are more than happy to view everyone’s home slide show that never ends.
As for the full story of what Instagram is doing to our minds, I guess time will tell. Like most things, moderation is key. I personally think that slothful scrolling is well counterbalanced by working out — or better yet, the double productive punch of working out while listening to an audiobook. So as I did just that, I scanned the treadmills and pondered how long it would take the sudden fitness enthusiasts to also abandon their New Year’s resolutions. Everyone had been buoyed by a fresh start and those inspirational quotes on Instagram like, “This is going to be your best year yet!” Now, the gym was a bit too crowded.
