Emily Writes

Category: Digital Age

  • Social Media’s Role in Dopamine Dysregulation: What This Means for Our Hopes and Dreams

    Social Media’s Role in Dopamine Dysregulation: What This Means for Our Hopes and Dreams

    Why do so many of us go through hell when we have fairly simple tasks ahead of us, such as unloading the dishwasher or folding laundry? Have people always struggled this hard with having the necessary discipline to complete chores? The answer to these questions has much to do with social media’s domineering presence in our lives. 

    In my previous blog, I discussed how social media’s intentionally designed addictive features have played a substantial role in dopamine dysregulation due to the minimal effort required on our part to receive never-ending rewards. When we have become so accustomed to instant gratification through social media use, our ability to develop self-discipline is deeply hampered. This helps explain why a lot of us find it unbearable to tackle unexciting, time-consuming, yet equally significant undertakings. Thereafter, this has greater repercussions for attaining our more consequential and long-term goals. If we can’t do the small things, how can we be expected to achieve anything bigger?

    Each time we open a social media app with the intention of quickly checking in, we frequently find ourselves stuck in the same spot for hours, neglecting and procrastinating essential responsibilities. We prefer to receive our satisfaction right away, which is precisely how social media’s blueprint keeps us hooked. The fact that social media is almost entirely dedicated to leisure and entertainment is another contributing factor. This makes it more desirable to real-life conflicts, decreasing productivity in the process. As a result, devoting oneself to common routines feels insurmountable. It is exceedingly difficult for individuals to invest time and effort into achieving genuine and lasting contentment.

    Let’s use the example of cleaning our entire room. Our brain and body resist putting time and energy into this labor because we could simply open any social media app and obtain a similar reward-like feeling. We have been trained to take the easy way out. We will choose the path that demands the least amount of effort to reward us, even if it’s worse for us in the long run.

    Confessedly, it’s something I still grapple with. I used to fear I had undiagnosed ADHD. The prospect of a task would fill me with dread. Social media would have a magnetic pull on me, being the much more enticing option. Even today, I try to set aside time to work on job applications, but it sometimes feels impossible when Reddit is right there.   

    This brings us to the critical distinction between rapid and slower dopamine releases. The dopamine release from cleaning your whole room happens much more steadily, coming at the end of the process, when you can see the product of your hard work. Carrying out obligations like these is rewarding, but it doesn’t follow the fast reward cycle that social media exploits. This makes it borderline intolerable to embark on endeavors that delay gratification and help to form healthy habits.

    If there’s one thing to take away from this, it is that gradual, effort-based dopamine releases are more valuable. This type of dopamine offers more stable and long-lasting satisfaction and is linked to enhanced well-being. It leads to increased long-term success both personally and professionally, and promotes continuing fulfillment. 

    The effects of consistently picking the most comfortable avenue compound over time. It’s a lot more than skipping everyday duties. All these years of poor self-control and underdeveloped habits add up to many missed opportunities. With social media dependency and hijacked dopamine, how are we supposed to achieve major life objectives? For instance, hitting a milestone in your savings account. Having enough money to travel, move to the city of your dreams, or put a down payment on a house. Advancing in your career. Completing an education. Getting your dream body at the gym. Finishing a book. The issue is that these things necessitate sustained attempts, but we wish for the pleasure now. Our aspirations for ourselves may be over before they begin. 

    It’s worth noting that this problem often starts from the moment we wake up, as the detriment of checking social media first thing in the morning is evident. The explanation is as follows: Our brain’s supply of dopamine is untapped in the morning. Using social media before getting out of bed gives us dopamine hits without any exertion, depleting much of it before we have the opportunity to use it for more important actions. This practice impairs our capacity to find joy in purposeful projects that are not immediately pleasurable. Essentially, we have scarcely any dopamine left over for the remainder of the day if we catch up on social media upon waking up. 

    Collectively, social media has eroded our capability to complete both daily labor and long-term ambitions. This is the outcome of social media serving as our primary source of dopamine for this amount of time; short and long-term discipline hardly stand a chance. I dread what this means for the rest of our lives; great things never worked towards, much less completed, because our dopamine was taken advantage of for decades. Exercising self-control to avoid frequent and shallow dopamine spikes is paramount now and may be the key to getting ahead and thriving.


    Social media’s disastrous consequences are so multifaceted and wide-ranging that they have warranted multiple blog posts on the topic. Coming off social media may seem daunting to most. However, merely knowing that you deserve to achieve your aspirations in life should be ample. I won’t have social media interfere with future hopes and dreams I have for myself, especially when I have concluded there is a trivial benefit to it, and a laundry list of reasons to quit. I won’t allow a worthwhile life to be involuntarily robbed from me. 

  • Social Media’s Addictive Features Explained: Dopamine Hijacking and the Parallel to Gambling

    Social Media’s Addictive Features Explained: Dopamine Hijacking and the Parallel to Gambling

    Apart from emotional turmoil, social media’s worst crime is its powerful, deliberate, and insidious addictive qualities. Social media developers cite entertainment and access to information as benefits of joining their apps. However, their primary intention is to keep you on their app as long as possible by taking advantage of our brain’s reward system. The methods employed to hijack our dopamine, including novelty-reward cycles and variable reward schedules, closely resemble techniques used to keep gamblers betting, raising urgent concerns. To better understand, let’s scrutinize the psychological precepts these platforms profit from.

    It’s essential to begin with an explanation of dopamine, or at least, a science-lite one. Dopamine is a transmitter and chemical messenger primarily associated with pleasure, reward, and motivation. Each time we participate in a rewarding behavior, our brain releases dopamine. Its function is to increase the occurrence of these activities through motivation. Our drive comes from the desire to repeat these pleasurable feelings, an evolutionary trait that prompts us to seek rewards for survival. 

    One significant way to trigger the release of dopamine is through exposure to novelty. Humans are strongly drawn to anything new. It’s an evolutionary adaptation, as it promotes the acquisition of information to aid in survival. By using social media, we are fulfilling this instinct by seeking out insight that could be valuable to us. Scrolling through your feed exposes you to incessant new people, videos, and vast swaths of information. Our brain instantly compares these details to our existing knowledge, and if they differ, dopamine is set off. This is called a novelty-reward loop, in use by almost all social media platforms. While learning new things is not intrinsically bad, social media capitalizes on this inclination. Our brains are bombarded with “newness” that is framed as imperative but rarely provides lasting value. 

    In tandem with novelty, social media sites wield a variable reward schedule. As we scroll, what appears on our feed is largely unpredictable. Notably, the brain has a built-in preference for uncertain rewards, releasing higher amounts of dopamine. Conversely, our brains are more accustomed to predictable rewards, such as the result of brushing our teeth and making our beds—it’s boring because we know what to expect. But social media ensures we are consistently subjected to unforeseen content. Dopamine also spikes more intensely if we don’t know when we’ll receive a reward. When we use social media, we can’t precisely predict if we’ll enjoy everything we see, making it far more captivating to use. Combined with the fact that it’s practically exertionless, just a scroll or a tap, it’s the simplest and quickest way to feel gratified.

    Social media applies various additive design features to deliver this fresh and unpredictable material. There’s nary such a thing as only checking social media briefly, as its carefully configured interface lures us in each time. Think infinite scrolling on apps like TikTok. Autoplay forcing you to watch videos until the end. Short-form content being especially digestible = a faster rebound rate = increased consumption. Algorithms are highly personalized based on the topics we’ve shown the most interest in. These characteristics create a pattern of craving, anticipation, and payoff, keeping us hooked without much effort or realization on our part.

    When each of these properties is rolled into one, they form a slot machine effect. With slot machines, you don’t win on each occasion but rather unpredictably. The prizes range from smaller cash payouts to a massive jackpot, enough to keep players pursuing successive wins. The pull-to-refresh mechanism on social media sites is eerily similar to pulling a lever on a slot machine. Will you see a relatable meme? A shocking viral moment? A hot take? Read a funny comment? Not everything on our feed will be entirely attuned to our entertainment. Nonetheless, we continue to use it, just for the mere possibility that we may score and discover something favorable to us, akin to gamblers betting again to chase the next win. Both scenarios facilitate compulsive use. 

    Social media exploits our brain’s yearning for novelty, unpredictability, and reward, mirroring slot machines. The byproduct is an uninterrupted cycle of suspense, expectation, and a prize. The most alarming part is how little effort all of this requires. Our brains are deceived into believing we have accomplished something each time we use social media. Over time, this low-effort stimulation can make us less receptive to real rewards that demand time and energy. Our brain’s reward system is now desensitized to anything that necessitates any more labor than simply looking at a screen, which is where the real trouble begins. In part two, I’ll explore what this means for our ability to develop self-discipline, and how this has greater repercussions for attaining our larger and more long-term goals. 

  • Airing Out My Grievances Against Social Media: The Argument for Quitting

    Airing Out My Grievances Against Social Media: The Argument for Quitting

    January 18th, 2025: TikTok went dark. Although short-lived, it was uncomfortable to see the number of people genuinely distressed over it. Even more concerning were the urges I got to open the app and scroll, and getting irritated when I couldn’t—eerily similar to experiencing withdrawal. Despite this, I was relieved to be freed from the app, albeit temporarily. I assumed most users agreed the app was harmful and we were likely better off without it, yet we were also hopelessly addicted. I viewed TikTok’s ban as a necessary action, or at least for me. 

    These events led to serious thoughts about the need for social media amidst its widely acknowledged ill effects on its users. Especially baffling is the fact most users are at least partially aware of the consequences but still consume in excess. Why do this to ourselves? When I tried to come up with a benefit I’ve gotten from using social media, I came up mostly blank. If I thought of something that could be framed as advantageous, I would debunk it almost instantly. The supposed positives—connection, attention, and entertainment—are part of a more nuanced and grim reality that influenced my decision to quit social media for good.

    The primary use of social media, at least in its advent, was for users to distribute updates, typically in the form of photos and videos, with friends and family. This is done to facilitate connection across geographic barriers. It can feel comforting to see what your loved ones are up to, specifically when you don’t see them as frequently as you’d like.  

    Except it’s not about providing life updates to family and friends. If that were the motive, wouldn’t you let them know firsthand, and not alongside vague and distant contacts? I don’t suspect most to be familiar with each of their followers. If something momentous were occurring in my life, I would want to let the important people in my life know through a text, phone call, or in-person visit. We do not need additional, unknown spectators online. Our best moments should be reserved for the people who truly matter, not the public. Discovering someone’s news online, such as an engagement, pregnancy announcement, or a big move, suggests you’re not close enough to have heard it directly from them. It’s an unfortunate circumstance, though not one that should be taken personally. 

    So, if not for life briefs and imagined intimacy, what is posting on social media really about? An even more unpleasant truth is that it’s often done for attention and social validation. It is challenging to resist sharing our high points with the world, but it mostly boils down to impressing others. Each time I posted a photo of myself that I felt I looked good in, it was because I craved praise and admiration. The likes, comments, and replies to my story felt like a drug. People “approving” of me fed my ego. That was the sole reason I partook in posting. It took a long time to become conscious of my intention and admit it to myself. 

    I knew this phenomenon was real when I noticed how quietly disheartened I felt when I didn’t get the feedback I desired. If my post flopped, I would have invasive thoughts, wondering if I looked as pretty as I thought I did. Do people still find me good-looking? Have I lost my audience of simps? Each time I posted a story, I would be glued to my phone, checking to see who had interacted, hoping to be affirmed in any way. It’s a detrimental practice to base your self-worth on recognition from others, especially on something as frivolous and shallow as the way you look.

    Indisputably, these behaviors stem from the unwavering societal emphasis on a woman’s appearance. Instagram and TikTok function like an unspoken beauty contest, particularly inside a woman’s social circle. Women are constantly making attempts at glowing up, trying to look more polished since the last time they posted, vying to look the prettiest they’ve ever looked.

    These experiences are not unique to me or any young woman online. As humans, we carry the tragic, permanent instinct to compare ourselves to others. I can confess that being exposed to beautiful women favored by the algorithm caused substantial injury to my self-esteem. It wouldn’t manifest as bitter envy, but rather as subtle feelings of inadequacy. I couldn’t help but wish I looked as good as they did. It’s something I surmise every woman can relate to, a sentiment that aches worse with social media.

    On top of the considerable toll it takes on our self-confidence, using social media makes us feel we are deficient in other capacities. It is common knowledge that social media is not a reflection of real life but, alternatively, a highlight reel. Profiles are carefully crafted self-portrayals. We almost exclusively share ourselves in worthwhile states, such as wearing make-up and being dressed up, as well as ventures like partying or traveling. So, when you log onto social media, you see the collective posts of every individual participating in pleasurable activities, leading you to believe everyone is doing something cool all of the time…except you. 

    Indeed, hardly anyone shares the unglamorous parts of their lives: working, rotting at home, not having any make-up on, and wearing pajamas. Most people would shudder at the thought of sharing an imperfect life or a photo of themselves where they don’t look flawless. I became displeased with this distortion, both in what I published and in the content I consumed from others. I was done being falsely convinced I was missing out, and feeling my life was dull in comparison.

    Posting yourself and your life online can also have the unintended outcome of feeling like all eyes are on you. For the record, I don’t presume I occupy much space in people’s minds; none of us do. Even if I did, my days of caring about other people’s judgment are long gone. With that said, having anything up on social media opens up the opportunity for someone to criticize you and what you’re doing. The possibility that anyone can think anything of your content at all times is unnerving. Even if it’s not said to me out loud, my brain was distracted by other people’s opinions of me, whether good or bad. Once again, I grew fatigued from this incessant, uneasy feeling that subconsciously weighed on me.

    “Lost time is never found again.” – Benjamin Franklin

    Given this lengthy list of disadvantages, one must ask, why spend any time on social media at all? Sad to say, many of us devote an inordinate amount of time to mindlessly consuming social media. We consistently emphasize how valuable time is, even more than money. Can you remember the last five TikToks you watched? We can likely only recall a small, insignificant percentage of all we ingest on social media. Social media’s positive impact is negligible at best, and the trade-off is nowhere close. Thus, it’s mostly in vain. It’s a waste of time—subsequently, a waste of life. 

    Squandering time and mental energy on social media is one issue; having a digital persona as a way we must present ourselves is another. Social media compelled us to have two sides to us: our real-life, in-person selves, and then our online selves. A profile we curate that’s meant to represent us, but isn’t actually us. The concept is less than twenty years old and remains experimental, not entirely natural. Enjoying the moment and savoring the experience is more than adequate. We don’t have to document anything; the ramifications are evident. Living and being are enough. 

    Upon this awakening, I decided I no longer wanted part in something so hazardous. I only move in silence, because a private, non-performative, authentic life offers far more peace. With our welfare on the line, I’m calling for people to think critically about their choice to use social media. Take cautious note of the emotions you encounter when scrolling and posting. In the final analysis, consider the potential costs to your health and happiness, and weigh them against whatever unlikely real benefit you receive from social media.

    Coda

    If you’re curious what a life without social media looks like, honestly, it’s pretty sweet. I don’t have to worry about getting the perfect photo, saving me time and energy. I don’t have to prove beauty anymore. I don’t need to establish that I went somewhere cool. I no longer stress about drafting posts and captions. There’s relief in knowing I’ll never experience the ill effects of social media again, simply because I decided I won’t subject myself to that pain. There’s no more performance. I live for me now. 

  • The Hidden Danger of Following Influencers—How it Mimics Connection and Exacerbates Loneliness

    The Hidden Danger of Following Influencers—How it Mimics Connection and Exacerbates Loneliness

    For many of us who haven’t left the house or socialized in a while, we subconsciously use social media as a coping mechanism. I know the times I got really antsy, I was quick to open up a social media app to see what people were doing in the rest of the world. The premise of social media was to facilitate connection between people who did not have the means to interact with each other physically. Recently, I began wondering if social media could truly substitute for in-person socialization, and whether it could realistically remedy any feelings of loneliness we may be experiencing. The question kept popping up: Are these real connections we’re forming when we interact with strangers, particularly influencers, online? Although research is in its infancy, new studies suggest that having a sense of connectedness online may not offer relief from social isolation in our real worlds. This essay will examine the social and psychological repercussions of engaging with influencers specifically, where connection is imitated to generate income, thereby perpetuating a cycle of loneliness. 

    Loneliness is the uneasy feeling that results from the absence of meaningful connection with people in our social networks. If I haven’t spoken to anyone all day, seeing faces through a screen almost feels like being surrounded by people. When a content creator goes live on TikTok, it resembles being on a FaceTime call with someone you’re close with. They may have responded to your comment or answered your question. Now you’re besties. When you comment on a post or video and receive a reply, it gives the impression of striking up a conversation with a stranger. Watching a life update video from your comfort YouTuber feels like catching up with an old friend.

    As we know, influencers are online personalities who earn a living by promoting products from companies that have sponsored them. They can be quite competent in piquing product interest among their viewers. But I’ve come to realize that influencers are not just people; they’re brands. When influencers have established trust and rapport with their audience, we are more likely to be swayed by their opinions and recommendations. Their success is grounded in portraying themselves as regular people and maintaining a reciprocal relationship with us, which makes their product reviews feel more authentic. We purchase products from brands they have partnered with, which accounts for the bulk of their earnings, resulting in a financial gain for the company as well. 

    This effect is enhanced through the forging of parasocial relationships, which play a vital role in increasing visibility and following. We are falsely convinced we know influencers on a deep level. I’ve noted influencers reveal very few personal details about themselves, as I don’t believe sharing this with hundreds of thousands of strangers comes naturally to most. Instead, they share much of what they do throughout the day, or general activities they participate in. This feels intimate, as if you’re actually hanging out with them. It’s sufficient for them to maintain their devotees. Given the nature of this strategy, our desire for connection and vulnerability is preyed upon.

    Despite the illusion of closeness, these interplays are one-sided, lacking depth and individual acknowledgment. There are characteristics unique to face-to-face communication that are not conveyed through online interactions, such as physical contact, body language cues, tone of voice, and facial expressions. These offer us greater emotional support, heightening connection, and acting as a shield against loneliness. Fundamentally, our essential needs are not being met with digital contacts. Thus, the cycle of loneliness is fueled.

    Another way we may be suffering from watching influencers is by enduring a fear of missing out. FOMO comprises anxieties and insecurities stemming from missing out on possible enjoyable social events or not being in the know about them. Influencer culture exacerbates FOMO, as we feel compelled to stay up-to-date with the affairs taking place in an influencer’s life. We were led to believe watching influencers would provide us with some advantage or social support, but in fact, it makes us feel inadequate, often without us registering it. 

    We subsequently act on these feelings, as FOMO is related to consumer behavior. Essentially, we become burdened by a strong desire to consume products to feel like we belong to a distinct group. Purchasing a viral product can make us feel like we’re part of an online brand community. We want to share our experience of using the product with others, perhaps leaving a review to feel even more part of the club. This habit appeals to our need to foster a sense of belonging and maintain social connectedness, but often falls short of expectations, as it’s functionally a marketing scheme.

    If you’d like to hear an argument in favor of influencers, I’d tell you that work is work, and we all have to make our coin somehow. For most of them, the job fell into their laps and was not something they aspired to. They merely transformed it into a living. Hardly anyone could have predicted this would be a viable career even twenty years ago. Ironically, influencers may be encountering the same loneliness and disconnect they bolster under such a system. They could conceivably be deficient in worthwhile connections with the people in their lives and seek validation from their fans. Irrespective of their intent or how they chose to navigate their success, the damage persists.

    All this culminates in something severe. We neglect real-life connections in favor of virtual ones. Most of us come home after a long day and catch up on what we’ve missed online while we were away. Plenty of us are guilty of spending more time keeping up with the lives of strangers through a screen than the lives of people around us. Why should influencers take priority over our close acquaintances and family members? It’s especially stressful being on the receiving end of this harmful practice, as I crave nothing more than to connect with the people around me, but they have been conditioned to crave scrolling. 

    There are safer ways to use social media. I decided to quit appearance-based social media. I advise against watching anyone whose content revolves around themselves and their daily life. Specifically, creators whose work centers on their image and persona. I only watch accounts and channels that have something truly beneficial to offer. I steer clear of purely entertaining content and curate my feeds to be informational, educational, and reflective. I also began to scroll more cautiously. If any anxious feelings surface or if I see something that makes me feel bad about myself, I immediately log off, because I deserve far better than that. These small changes helped me, and they can be a starting point for you too.

    Life does not happen through a screen. Social media offered us a “solution” to loneliness, but I’m rejecting it. We can all gain from being more aware of our potential emotional connection with influencers and the adverse impact it can have on our well-being. Interactions with influencers do not hold a candle to real-life, face-to-face connections. While a pleasant exchange on social media is not entirely insincere, it pales in comparison to an act of kindness performed in person. The proof is in the way I’m far more likely to remember what happened to me in the flesh. Anything that occurs online is intangible and does not evoke as much emotion. Because of this, it hardly ever sticks with me. Put simply, real-world connection keeps us going.

    Further Reading