Some thoughts after going without a phone for 5 days (and this was involuntary—my phone broke—so I’m not here to moralize), besides the obvious being able to live in the moment better (which, for all the cliches, is very true):

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1. It was a lot easier than I thought. I think this is mostly because I had access to Facebook/Messenger, so I wasn’t completely cut off from people. But it made me realize that I wasn’t using Twitter to interact with people; I was using it to interact with their thoughts. 2/

Simple distinction, but important ramification: I was forced to learn how to distinguish between feeling bored and feeling lonely. When I had my phone, I couldn’t tell the difference, so whenever I was feeling blah, I would unconsciously open Twitter to numb the feeling. 3/

Without my phone, I was forced to sit with those feelings and actually think about what would alleviate them and why. My conclusion: obviously nothing beats face-to-face, but texting pales in comparison even to videochatting. So Twitter wasn’t making me less lonely. 4/

2. Which leads me to my next thought: we underestimate how much of our phone use is unconscious muscle memory. Setting up my new phone, my thumb could tell something was off if an app wasn’t in its usual place. Sitting in a chair, my back and neck hunched themselves. 5/

Next time you’re scrolling, sit up and hold your phone parallel to your body. It will probably get annoying after a few minutes. But then you might realize that Twitter is preventing you from sitting naturally. And then you’ll realize very little about Twitter is natural. 6/

3. Forget about trolls and angry cancel mobs; obviously very few people would do that in real life. And real life interactions make total anonymity impossible. Forget even about the 240 character limit for a moment. The very nature of the Twitter feedback loop is unnatural. 7/

Unless you have a big account and have reached the point of tolerance with the dopamine hit of likes and retweets, your good tweets are self-reinforcing. Like an algorithm, your brain takes notes on why your tweets were popular and adjusts accordingly for future tweeting. 8/

The result? Your Twitter presence ends up looking less like you, and more like what people want to see. For some, this self-censorship might have the positive effect of filtering out actually objectionable stuff, but for most, it limits the breadth and depth of thought. 9/

Some people truly have no filter or have a very agreeable follower audience. They can tweet whatever pops into their head. But most of us can’t do that. And if Twitter is the only place you record your thoughts, your brain will be taught that this is what you really think. 10/

This is true of all social media, where we carefully curate a socially attractive online presence. But Twitter’s character limit magnifies this effect. With a 240 character limit, it’s harder to get away with bad word choices and phrasings. So our brain censors us harder. 11/

And covid life has magnified this again. In real life, you don’t have a way of knowing if someone likes every sentence you said. The synchronicity of conversation forces us to think about our next response, so we simply don’t have time to analyze every word the other person says.

And inevitably, those thoughts are influenced by the momentary judgment we make of the other person’s thoughts, as well as the fact that the only interpretation we have to worry about is theirs. By force of this habit, the thoughts we think when we’re alone are less restricted.13

Not so during la covida loca. Because so many of our interactions are virtual or textual, our brains are conditioned to self-censor more intensely. Without awareness of this, it’s far easier to fall back into social-media brain because mental switches take work. 14/

4. Now for the big one: what about FOMO? This was driving a lot of my Twitter use. Now I know the truth: FOMO was a psyop by my lazy brain to reinforce existing behavior patterns, simply because changing behavior is hard. Like staying at a party cuz you’re too lazy to walk home.

Once I had a moment to think without my phone, I realized I wasn’t missing out on that much. Maybe 80% of what people say here either you’ve already seen said in a slightly different way, or won’t be relevant in a year. There’s value in knowing current events, but at what cost?

The other 20% is why I’m still here. Original Torah; alternative intellectual emotional, and spiritual frameworks; creative insight. Those things I did miss out on. But are they more valuable than quality time with family, reading, and just having time to think independently? 16/

In other words, it’s a tradeoff, but it’s a worthwhile one. Because of the break I feel more connected with my family, myself, even God. I’m more self-aware. All because it made me realize I wasn’t in control of my phone use; my phone use was in control of my phone use. 17/

5. Last but not least: why isn’t Shabbos enough? Because our brains, and bodies, are used to Shabbos. They literally go into Shabbos mode. But as soon as you turn your phone back on after it ends, theyre right back in weekday mode. Gotta unplug the whole system to reset it. 18/

Will Shabbos feel less like Shabbos then? Just the opposite. Shabbos is more than just a break from tech; it’s a break from constant mode-switching. Why is חול—literally “sand”—the opposite of שבת? Sand is always moving, and can be picked up by anything. We’re like that too. 19/

Sand is mostly found in two places: in the desert and by the sea. What do both places have in common? A lot of wind—רוח in Hebrew, which also means space. A grain of sand without wind to move it is a barely visible speck. With wind, it can move and be part of something bigger. 20

But counterintuitively, a grain of sand needs wind in order to be stationary, as part of a dune. Once anchored to a dune, it’s much less likely to be moved by the wind. Same with us: without a will to be moved, unanchored, we can never be part of something bigger than ourselves.

As long as we’re anchored to our phones, to the social feedback loop, we can’t truly be moved by life. A single grain of sand is just as easily stuck to the ground as it is carried by the wind. According to geologists, some dunes in the Sahara are more than 20,000 years old. 22/

So, takeaways?

1. Next time you’re feeling blah, stop yourself from picking up your phone. Try to process what you’re feeling and why it’s making you reach for the phone.
2. Change your body language when interacting with your phone. Make sure it knows you’re the one in control.

3. Write first, don’t tweet, your thoughts. Let them develop independently.
4. Think about FOMO. What are you truly afraid of missing?
5. If you keep Shabbat, why do you enjoy it? How does it move you? How does it anchor you?

Or if you get lucky, maybe your phone will break.