When the Oura ring entered the scene a few years ago, I was immune to the lure. Just another biohacking fad I didn’t need to participate in. If I sleep poorly I know I sleep poorly, I don’t need a sleep score to tell me that. (And I will usually know why.) If you’re an Oura fan don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there are no benefits, I’m merely making the case that they are limited for me. I sleep well and move enough.
So why, then, did the ridiculously overpriced Oura ring land on my doorstep a few weeks ago? Just days after I fleshed out my monthly budget in Excel to maximize savings?
In short, I blame dopamine.
The longer answer is that a series of TikToks convinced me over the course of just a few days that I must have an Oura ring for radiant health. Countless women kept re-iterating how life-changing it was. Every time I logged on, someone dangled the shiny golden object in front of my eyes. “Life-changing!”. “Expensive but so worth it!”. “If you’re thinking about getting one, just do it now!” And so I did.
Last December, I pondered whether social media was still worth it and decided it wasn’t. I deleted TikTok and Instagram from my phone. For several months, I didn’t miss it one bit. Every once in a while, I checked my messages on the desktop. Over time, every once in a while became weekly, and eventually daily.
As it goes, soon I wasn’t merely checking my messages but clicking on some stories. When a work project required me to tap back into the zeitgeist of social media, I re-downloaded the apps with a mix of anguish and excitement. After eight months off, I had been feeling a little out of the loop. But also bored and unmotivated. Social media was a welcome distraction.
Within weeks, the consequences of my decision manifested. The impact on my bank account from impulse purchases was the least of my concerns. What worried me more was the increased feelings of discontent and loneliness that slowly crept up until they sent me into a two-day paralysis of existential dread. Everybody has everything figured out except me. I feel alone. I need [INSERT] to be happy.
Social media doesn’t have such drastic effects on most. Continuous users develop a tolerance which makes negative effects less observable. It was my abstinence that made the contrast eye-opening. Scrolling had made me more discontent and disconnected. The experience was not too different from my first glass of wine after three sober curious months and a set of inaugural Ayahuasca ceremonies years ago: I do not like how this makes me feel. I can’t believe I used to do this all the time?
While the downsides of social media use may hard to observe on an individual level, they’ve become undeniable at large. Researchers found that those who use social media more than 3 hours a day are at heightened risk for mental health problems. (Teenagers spend on average 5 hours per day.) Especially among teens, depression, anxiety, and suicide rates are through the roof. Earlier this year, New York City even designated social networks as a public health threat.
Is social media the new tobacco?
Ironically enough, the ‘dopamine menu’ is trending on TikTok right now. Creators list activities that keep them from doom scrolling in a predictable montage of foamy lattes, colorful flowers, sunsets walks, cute pajamas, hot baths, and retail therapy.
In contrast to popular opinion, dopamine is not about pleasure but anticipation. In The Molecule of More, Lieberman and Long make the case that there are two systems governing our neurochemistry: the "dopaminergic" system, which focuses on desire, future goals, and what’s next, and the "here-and-now" system, which helps us appreciate and enjoy the present. Dopamine drives our constant craving for more, while the here-and-now chemicals such as serotonin and oxytocin help us feel content.
One is not inherently better than the other. It is thanks to dopamine that we have innovation, wealth, and progress. But because dopamine is about pursuit and not reward, it makes us feel restless and unfulfilled. As soon as my Oura ring arrived, I lost interest in it and remembered that I never needed one to begin with. What most of us need is not a dopamine menu but a serotonin and oxytocin menu.
The authors argue that some people have more “dopaminergic” brains than others. Constantly motivated by future possibilities, innovation, and potential rewards, they are often visionary thinkers, risk-takers, and problem solvers who are driven by "what could be", often at the expense of appreciating "what is”.
If it weren’t for daily beach outings and occasional mushroom trips, I might live entirely in the future. While I’m curious about the root cause of increased dopamine sensitivity (I wouldn’t be surprised if trauma played a role), the more pressing question is the following: what are the implications of a culture that fosters the dopamine roller coaster at the expense of the here and now?
Wanting is not a choice but a reaction to our environment. TikTok is addictive not just because it has engaging content but because it has a mix of terrible and engaging content. It’s a slot machine: you scroll until you get high on hitting a jackpot. Then you rinse and repeat. This is by design and there is a term for it: intermittent positive reinforcement.
The way our online lives are penetrated with dopamine dumps extends beyond social media. Take shopping for example. Where the act of shopping used to trigger a single dopamine release (finding an item you like in-store and buying it); online shopping has become a dopamine spree (scouring websites until you find the right item - HIT! Only 5 left - add to cart before it sells out - HIT! An e-mail the next day lets you know that your item is on the way - HIT! The item arrives - HIT!).
In his viral essay,
laid out how dopamine culture penetrates everything from journalism to art and relationships. It is a sinister reality check and I often wish I could unsee this chart.Dopamine and addiction are intricately linked. Addictive substances and behaviors hijack the brain’s dopamine pathways, creating an endless loop of seeking pleasure without lasting satisfaction. Not once have I concluded a scrolling session thinking, Wow! That really filled my cup!
The bad news is that addictive behaviors not only provide no rewards (other than the relief from cravings), but also reduce the pleasure we get from activities we typically enjoy. As Anna Lembke notes in Dopamine Nation:
“The paradox is that hedonism, the pursuit of pleasure for its own sake, leads to anhedonia, which is the inability to enjoy.”
I noticed this firsthand when, within a few weeks of social media use, scrolling had become more appealing than most of my favorite activities. They began feeling like chores.
TikTok has $1 billion users, $150 million in the US alone. Up to 10% of Americans qualify as having a social media addiction. That makes it the second most common addiction after — you may have guessed it — nicotine.
We’re on track to spend 17 years of our life online. SEVENTEEN. YEARS. It makes me want to cry. Imagine what you could do with SEVENTEEN YEARS! You could raise a child full-time. You could start a business (or multiple). You could write at least five books. You could read 24,820 books.
When it comes to screen time, the sad truth is that we have little control over much of it. Modern life demands it. We’re not going to stop sending emails or working on our laptops. Social media, though, is the one area in our digital life that is fully in our own hands. We can choose to opt out with limited consequences.
There are many reasons to get offline and abstain, or at least drastically limit your use. To name just a few (in case you need a reminder):
Mental health. Social media the ultimate perpetuator of more and will make you less content with what you have. Comparison is the thief of joy. Comparing your reality with other people’s highlight reels is not useful or sustainable and will worsen your mental health.
Brain health. All the while, your capacity for deep focus is dwindling. Dopamine scrolling hijacks your neurochemistry and alters your brain in frightening ways. You lose your ability for deep work. We even have a term for it: popcorn brain.
Presence. Your online life takes you away from your real life. I’m still shocked every time see a group of friends sitting together at a restaurant and everyone is just scrolling. What is the point. Or going to a concert and filming the whole thing. You diminish at least 40% of the pleasure by doing that. What is the point.
Creativity. The more you consume, the less you create. While social media can spur inspiration, it rarely helps create original work. That’s because you spend too much time in other people’s worlds and not enough in your own. We are raising an entire generation of kids that are no longer exposed to boredom, the birthplace of creativity. Good thing we have AI to create all of our art in the future.
Authenticity and connection. Being over-connected makes you feel more lonely. Parasocial relationships further create a cycle of comparison and conformity which foster inauthenticity. Logging on may provide the illusion of connection, but it doesn’t meet the real need for human-to-human conversation. Most of us need less quantity and more quality connection.
Free will and agency. Never forget that you are not the customer of social media but the product. The customers are the advertisers, who are spending billions and billions each year to manipulate you, the user. It is the ultimate loss of free will. (Also — if our data is so valuable it makes big tech billions, how come none of the profit is passed along to users? All we are left with is popcorn brain. YAY.)
If those are not enough, here are several more.
Now you may ask yourself: can you moderate social media? There are many ways to enforce self-imposed boundaries — screen time limits, apps that block access during blackout times, digital detoxes, or a weekly phone-free days.
Personally, I find it much easier to quit altogether. Even if it means I have to return every few months to remind myself why I left. Quitting socials is simple but not easy. It’s simple because it forces you into your real life and frees up time for more fulfilling activities, which will make rewards immediate.
But it’s not easy because social media is also the epicenter of culture. I’ve felt pretty out of the loop for the better half of this year (discovering Ochuko Akpovbovbo’s pop culture round-ups has been a godsend). Plus, there are still long-form articles.
Whether or not moderation is a viable path for you depends on how you use social media. If it’s become an unhealthy escape, abstinence may be necessary to reveal the underlying drivers of the behavior. When you remove the numbing agent, things may bubble to the surface. Once those emotions are revealed and addressed, moderation may be a viable option. But one that requires much more discipline than just quitting altogether. It is similar to the smoker who has one cigarette a day and spends the rest of the day craving it.
When moderating, you want to think of social media as fast food. A treat to indulge in from time to time, rather than a foundational component of your everyday diet. For your everyday diet, you don’t want a dopamine menu (scrolling, shopping, gaming, gambling, junk food) but a hear-and-now menu that promotes serotonin and oxytocin: Time in nature, real connection, reading, exercise, creative activities, and nourishing meals — a strong foundation that can whether the occasional dopamine indulge.
As for my Oura ring, it’s on its way back—just a fleeting guest with a lesson to teach, similar to TikTok and Instagram. After just a few weeks, it’s time for a digital declutter to reclaim my time, peace, and focus. Because the future I envision for myself, filled with presence, art, and connection, doesn’t live on a screen.
Supplemental reading
〰️ The Molecule of More: How a Single Chemical in Your Brain Drives Love, Sex, and Creativity - And Will Determine the Fate of the Human Race
〰️ Dopamine Nation: Finding Balance in the Age of Indulgence
〰️ Stolen Focus: Why You Can't Pay Attention—and How to Think Deeply Again
〰️ Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World
〰️ Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World
〰️ The State of Culture, 2024 by Ted Gioia
〰️ The Junkification of American Life, New York Times
“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” - Henry David Thoreau
Shared this with my children and my oldest deleted TikTok
Every time I take a break, I notice profound benefits with very minor social setbacks. Then I indulge again and I am a crack head for the doom scroll in no time, completely content to waste away my entire existence. It’s horrifying how addictive social media has become.
I seek to build a life where I can wholly thrive outside the bounds of social media. It bothers me how little our presidential candidates discuss things like social media or AI, as if they aren’t the true bipartisan elephants in the room destroying/going to destroy America.
This is why I want to build my own self sustaining micro community. We still need socialization, of course, but big cities lack a depth of connection that I personally crave. And rural America has become destroyed by drugs and religious fervor. I want to live in rural nature close with other likeminded people!
Is that too much to ask?!