When Bebo came on the scene in 2005, I was 16 years old and the internet was a dial-up connection—painfully slow and accessible only through a home computer. Despite these limitations, I vividly remember the urge to craft the perfect Bebo page and appear “popular” among my peers. Reflecting on this now, I shudder at the thought of navigating my teenage years with Instagram's omnipresence in my pocket. The constant pressure to maintain an idealised digital self at 16 would likely have taken a significant, lasting toll on my mental health during such a vulnerable age.
The generation that followed ours has been the first to grow up with nearly unfettered access to the internet. This is the focus of the seminal book, "The Anxious Generation," by Dr. Jonathan Haidt. In this compelling read, Haidt explores the profound impact of what he terms the "phone-based childhood," a phenomenon that has evolved since the early 2010s. He argues that today's children are paradoxically "under-protected" online while being "overprotected" in the physical world. This imbalance, he suggests, severely undermines their development into emotionally healthy and resilient adults. The consequences are dire: an alarming rise in mental health issues, self-harm, and suicide rates among young people.
Top tech executives are acutely aware of the inherent dangers these platforms pose to children and therefore protect their own kids from their products. Meanwhile, the average parent fights to safeguard their children's well-being as their attention is constantly sought by these companies. Reminiscent of tobacco executives, who once admitted in congressional testimony in the USA that they did not want their children to smoke, it's becoming increasingly clear that social media companies are the tobacco companies of our time. Tech executives seemingly have no qualms about letting other people’s children zombie-scroll to oblivion as long as shareholder returns are maximised. According to whistleblower Frances Haugen, Meta has even targeted children as young as four. Why? They "have to" maintain their competitive edge. If Instagram seriously attempted to prevent underage users from accessing their platform, these users would simply migrate to competitors like TikTok. More importantly, such efforts would forfeit the chance to addict humans to their devices during their most formative years. Missing the opportunity to shape young users into perfect, marketable products represents a significant lost opportunity for these companies, after all. Dr. Jonathan Haidt's book not only highlights the stark realities of corporate greed in the tech industry but also offers practical advice for parents on how to protect their kids online while giving them a healthier level of autonomy in their daily lives in the real world. The book also prompts readers to evaluate their relationship with their phones.
A particularly compelling chapter, which is the focus of this article, delves into the spiritual harm inflicted by social media. As a preliminary point, it's refreshing to see a direct recognition of the importance of our spiritual health, alongside our mental and emotional health. Dr. Haidt contends that as humans, we are inherently seeking to be lifted "up" in some way. According to Haidt, whether or not "God" exists, people perceive certain individuals, places, actions, and objects as sacred, pure, and elevating; conversely, others are seen as disgusting, impure, and degrading. Witnessing people perform morally beautiful acts uplifts us, while seeing others behave in petty, nasty ways, or doing physically disgusting things, triggers revulsion. We feel pulled "down" in some way, leading us to close off and turn away. These actions are incompatible with our deeper spiritual nature. Haidt uses the word "spiritual" to mean striving to live more of one’s life from the "higher mind" rather than states of lower consciousness, where, as philosopher Alain de Botton puts it, we are primarily concerned with "ourselves, our survival, and our own success, narrowly defined."
Haidt posits that social media exaggerates the most “reptilian” part of us, leading to an ineffable “spiritual degradation” of society as a whole. Additionally, Haidt argues that our screen-based lives actively block our collective potential for spiritual growth by inhibiting several spiritual practices essential for our overall spiritual well-being. Broadly, these practices include:
Shared sacredness
Embodiment
Stillness, silence, and focus
Self-transcendence
Being slow to anger, quick to forgive
Finding awe in nature
Below, I delve into these concepts, intertwining insights from Haidt’s book with my observations. My goal is to provoke reflection and inspire you to explore this profoundly impactful book.
Shared Sacredness
Paraphrasing French sociologist Émile Durkheim, Haidt notes that we spend most of our lives as individuals in the realm of the profane. In this mode, we are concerned with our own wealth, health, and reputation. Almost all cultures have created rituals and practices to “elevate” people into the realm of the sacred, where we loosen the hold of our ego. In this mode of being, universal empathy, kindness, compassion, and imagination prevail.
Even outside religious or cultural rituals, uplifting collective experiences such as sporting events, music festivals, and protest marches can elevate us to a more collective spirit (“collective effervescence” as Durkheim called it). This desire for shared sacredness likely explains why humans seek out shared consciousness alteration. In that sense, the broad motive behind a few drinks in the pub is not entirely unrelated to the aim behind ecstatic dancing, meditation, yoga, and psychedelic experiences. Once we have visited the so-called sacred realm with others, we can trust and relate more easily with each other upon returning to the realm of the profane.
In my personal experience, there have been times when I felt as if I was sprung into this “higher” dimension with others. When I went on a yoga teacher training course for a month in 2017 to Thailand, it truly felt as though the particular group of people studying together formed an incredible connection. Recounting this experience to my friend Ruth upon my return, she thoughtfully responded: “Don’t you think that any group of people that got together for a yoga course, moving, eating, and meditating together in beautiful surroundings would have connected profoundly with each other?” I thought this was a wise observation. This elevation into sacred space is essentially what Thich Nhat Hanh fostered with groups of Palestinians and Israelis when he brought them together on his mindful retreats in Plum Village. In such spaces, forgiveness, understanding, and compassion can flow.
Similarly, I recently attended the Cappagh GAA Oscar Night in Co. Kildare, Ireland, where local residents acted in films to raise funds for the GAA club. Apart from the amazing creativity on display, the night was also a beautiful celebration of being part of a close-knit Irish rural community. Our family friend Tommy gave the crowd goosebumps with a stunning portrayal of the Bull McCabe in an interpretation of "The Field." Following the screening, the Oscars host interviewed Tommy, asking about the importance of land in rural communities, as depicted in the film. Tommy profoundly replied, "It is nothing compared to the importance of family and community." His words resonated deeply on an evening filled with a heartfelt sense of what community is all about.
While social media can occasionally foster community and support, particularly for marginalised groups, it fundamentally contrasts with enriching real-life experiences like the Cappagh GAA Oscar Night. Unlike genuine communities, social media primarily offers virtual “networks,” where interactions are disembodied and asynchronous, lacking the deep, shared engagement found in physical gatherings. This is not in our best interest as spiritual beings. What we deeply need is to endow our time and space with the sacredness of powerful collective experiences in order to thrive. In stark contrast, social media keeps us firmly in the realm of the profane.
Embodiment
During the pandemic, my husband’s friend tragically died by suicide, and we attended his funeral service online. While this virtual service was the best way to honour him under the circumstances, it starkly reminded us of how inadequate it is compared to being physically present. In moments of profound grief and celebration, our presence with others is irreplaceable. Physical togetherness is essential; it’s why we gather to dance at weddings and celebrate life’s milestones. Even activities that may not seem inherently spiritual, like team sports, significantly enhance our well-being. As Haidt notes, teens who participate in team sports tend to be happier than those who don't, underscoring the importance of shared physical experiences. We are meant to live embodied lives, connected through touch, movement, and presence, not confined to the disembodied interactions of screens.
Stillness, Silence, and Focus
John Cooper Clarke, a punk poet without a smartphone or computer, wrote in February in The Guardian about how he couldn’t have a computer because it would be too easy for him to get distracted. In his words, “You’d find me dead six weeks later, buried under a pile of pizza boxes.” I have often felt metaphorically dead and buried under a pile of pizza boxes after sinking time into social media platforms.
There is an irony for me here as a yoga student whose Instagram algorithm is flooded with “yogi content.” While yoga teaches us to cultivate stillness and focus, platforms like Instagram easily draw us into the opposite state of mind. Yoga and meditation teachers often distill their guidance into brief Instagram reels, advising us on how to calm our “monkey minds.” However, these very platforms do little to help us achieve mental tranquility; instead, they amplify our distracted state. It's hard to see how Instagram is compatible with a spiritual path, where a healthy separation from the relentless chatter of daily life is at times crucial in order to train ourselves to be present. Practices like attending Vipassana retreats or taking vows of silence help individuals withdraw from the profane concerns of day to day life. While not everyone can undertake such rigorous practices, integration of simple elements of these practices into our daily routines can be done by everyone. Even a brief 10-minute mindfulness session can significantly boost our mental well-being and would serve us a lot better than a 10 minute gawk into the phone. Reflecting this shift, some doctors now prescribe yoga and meditation as part of holistic care. A notable example is Dr. Anthony Rafferty in Dublin, Ireland, who bridges his roles as both a medical doctor and a shamanic practitioner.
In today's digital age, our minds are constantly bombarded with notifications, a never-ending news cycle, and a flood of instantly forgettable videos that my husband amusingly refers to as "cat videos," even when they have nothing to do with cats. Our brains aren’t equipped to handle this relentless barrage of information, making it easy to lose countless hours to mindless doom-scrolling. The urge to stay on top of numerous WhatsApp groups, respond to every message, and remain active on social media perpetually steals our ability to be present.
The comedian Romesh Ranganathan captured this dilemma perfectly. In a moment of comedic brilliance, he recounts a time when, while out with his wife one evening, she asked him, "Why are you constantly on your phone?" He wittily responded, "Why not? I have a little box here that can access any website. I can play games, watch films… there’s nothing you can say that can compete with this. I’m watching Game of Thrones. Say something better than that." This line has become part of our family lexicon. Whenever I or my husband drift into "phone zombie" mode, the other quickly calls it out, often prompting the cheeky retort, "Say something better than Game of Thrones, then!"
Setting jokes aside, constantly being plugged in not only diminishes our presence and strains our relationships with loved ones, but it also deteriorates our ability to concentrate and degrades our cognitive ability. A study conducted at Carnegie Mellon University's Human-Computer Interaction Lab involved 136 students who were divided into two groups. One group had their phones turned off during a test, while the other group kept their phones on and received occasional text messages. The students who received messages performed, on average, 20% worse. This suggests that most of us are constantly losing about 20% of our cognitive ability.
Self-Transcendence
Social media is an ego machine. Contrary to all the ancient wisdom on what it means to live a good and happy life, as Haidt notes, social media encourages us to put ourselves first, to be judgmental, to be boastful, to accumulate material wealth, and to seek glory as quantified by likes and followers. Its focus on self-promotion and our social standing prevents us from transcending ourselves.
As Haidt tells us, the goal of many spiritual experiences, from Ayahuasca ceremonies to prayer and meditation, is to experience self-transcendence and to leave behind our particular self-interests and cravings. We simply won’t transcend ourselves by clinging to the things that bind us to our egos, such as time on social media.
Being Slow to Anger, Quick to Forgive
In Haidt’s words, social media "encourages us to make rapid public judgments with little concern for the humanity of those we criticise, no knowledge of the context in which they acted, and no awareness that we have often done the very thing for which we are publicly shaming them.” There is very little space for spiritual virtues such as forgiveness, grace, and love in the harsh virtual world.
Finding Awe in Nature
Referencing Dacher Keltner, a preeminent scientist studying awe, Haidt notes that there are “8 wonders of life” which can provoke in us the feeling of awe. Such a feeling has the capacity to completely reset our perspective and change us for the better. The 8 wonders are moral beauty, collective effervescence, nature, music, visual design, spiritual and religious awe, life and death, and epiphanies—those moments in which we suddenly find ourselves with a new, deeper understanding. Awe can be triggered in numerous ways, but spending time in nature is one of the most accessible routes to it. A simple walk through a city park, time spent observing the waves of the ocean lap upon the shore, or watching clouds pass by in the sky can provoke a feeling of awe in us and bring us into the present. “The world is full of magic things,” wrote W.B. Yeats, “patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
Haidt quotes Keltner to explain how awe greatly improves our well-being by causing “shifts in neuro-physiology, a diminished focus on the self, increased prosocial relationality, greater social integration, and a heightened sense of meaning.”
Not only do phones and social media make us spend way more time inside, but they also constantly distract us when we are outside. We simply need to make deliberate efforts to spend more time in nature, without our phones, to achieve greater well-being.
Final Reflections
In 1999, David Bowie predicted the nature of the internet and posited that we were on the cusp of something “exhilarating and terrifying.” He described the internet as an “alien lifeform” that would “crush our ideas of what mediums are all about.” Boy, was he right. The impact on society has been profound and I don’t for a second believe it has been all bad. However, when we are talking about an endlessly powerful “alien lifeform” like social media, the adage from Spiderman comes to mind: “With great power comes great responsibility.” I don’t believe that this great responsibility rests only on an individual basis but also on a collective one. The Surgeon General in the USA in June has already called for a warning label on social media platforms, stating that social media is associated with significant mental health harms for adolescents. Author Johann Hari suggests that we may need to go as far as to force social media companies to abandon their current business model, which is specifically designed to invade our attention in order to keep us scrolling. Haidt suggests we mandatorily make social media companies verify that their users are of a certain age, and that minimum age should be at least 16 (though thinking on my 16 year old self on the much more basic network Bebo, even 16 seems young). Apart from societal changes, there are likely changes we can all make on a personal basis to protect ourselves and our children. From a personal perspective, my husband and I decided to ditch the smartphones on family outings so as to be present with and model better behaviour for our 2 year old son.
It seems like we are on the cusp of another unknowable and unimaginable change with the proliferation of artificial intelligence, and it’s time for us to take stock of where we are as a society: the values and behaviours we want to promote, and how we want to evolve from here. In particular, we need to deeply consider what kind of world we want our children to inhabit, not just from an environmental perspective, but emotionally, culturally, and spiritually. “There’s a God-shaped hole in every human heart,” Haidt writes, quoting the French philosopher Blaise Pascal. “If it doesn’t get filled with something noble and elevated, modern society will quickly pump it full of garbage.” Perhaps it’s time to truly reflect on what we want to fill our hearts and our children’s hearts with. To consider the life that we might be missing while we have our head stuck in our smartphones. Perhaps, if we look inside, we will surely realise it's time to “look up”.