Reframe Your Inbox (Social Media Hiatus Edition)

Hey everyone—after a month-long break from the newsletter, I’m off social media (again) and back at it with Reframe Your Inbox (again). Here are three things this week: 1) a few reflections on social media (because what the world needs right now is more reflections on social media); 2) a couple Reframe the Day updates; 3) some high-quality internet content.

FIRST THING

As some readers have probably observed, I’ve spent a decent chunk of the last few months trying to re-engage with Instagram and, to a lesser extent, Twitter and LinkedIn. (I never entertained the concept of returning to Facebook.) My goal was to do what I thought I needed to do as a new author: build a platform that would help me spread the word about my book in a not-totally-annoying way. A week or so ago, I made the decision to abandon that effort and return to my previous lifestyle, which involves little to no social media usage at all. I dig into a couple of the reasons why below, but if you’re maxed out on the “why I quit social media” narratives, here’s the takeaway in two short sentences: The question isn’t whether there are any benefits. It’s whether the benefits exceed the costs.

That explanation… is a direct quote from page 95 of Reframe the Day. Despite everything I wrote in the book about how I’ve built more fulfilling days by ditching social media, I ignored everything I wrote in the book in an attempt to promote said book. I gave myself some of the classic justifications: I’m supposed to be doing this. I might miss out on something if I don’t do this. Everyone else is doing this. I’m finding some value in this (which is true). I’ll somehow be able to manage this and not have to stop doing anything else because unlike everyone else I can do it all (which, sadly, proved not to be true).

In hindsight, the only surprising thing is that it took me four months to re-remember something I’ve long known about myself: My days are far more fulfilling when I’m not even thinking about—let alone using—social media platforms.

It’s not about time. It’s about focus. As I tried to maintain a consistent Instagram presence (and I’ll use Instagram because that’s where I directed most of my efforts), I kept thinking, How can I make this more efficient? I fell back into the trap of thinking that the only obstacle to making social media work for me was time. I just needed to be more productive so I could make more time for social media. (This is, of course, an example of the fallacy of the productivity hack: We can “do it all,” and in turn be happy and successful, if we simply find more ways to achieve more things by working more hours more efficiently.)

Yet I was only spending 1-2 hours a week posting on, engaging with, or preparing content for Instagram. That’s not a lot of time. I could’ve been even more efficient if I’d batched that time each week, as some wise folks suggested. Turns out, though, the issue wasn’t time. It was focus. I spent 15ish minutes a day actively Instagramming. But I was thinking about it all the time. Even when IG wasn’t in the front of my mind, it was constantly buzzing in the background. Would this be a good quote to share on my story? What excerpt should I post this week? How can I build my platform? Am I posting too much about myself? How can I deliver value? Why isn’t anyone reading this? How can I get more engagement? How about this quote? Or this? Or this? Why haven’t I written anything in a month?

I began to notice that my motivation and enthusiasm for writing—new articles, a new book proposal, newsletters—was drying up. So was my mental stream of new ideas. My mind was increasingly spending its limited processing power thinking about social media, leaving me with less time, energy, or enthusiasm for writing. That meant that not only was I not spending time on an activity that is almost guaranteed to make my days more fulfilling—the craft of writing—but I was replacing it with an activity that I know does the opposite for me.

To be clear, I saw plenty of benefits from reengaging with Instagram, particularly around the launch of Reframe the Day. I got to know some great people in the bookstagram world. I had fun IG live conversations with Matt H. (@bookmattic) and Ryan M. (@bookthinkers_nation). Reframe the Day received some stellar Instagram reviews. I found inspiration and book recommendations and, yes, some valuable human connection in the broader bookstagram community. I was able to get the word out about the book to friends I hadn’t spoken with in a number of years, who aren’t on this list and who probably wouldn’t have known about it any other way.

These benefits are real. Plus, as a new author, not engaging on social media comes with its own opportunity costs. If I were trying to build a brand, or if my craft were, say, photography (or another craft more suited to a visual medium like Instagram), these trade-offs might be worth it—a necessary cost of doing business, perhaps. But I’m not trying to build a brand, and I’m not a photographer. (Half the pictures on my phone are screenshots of articles I’ve read.) I’m trying to write. I was amazed to (re)discover just how detrimental a small amount of time on social media was to my focus and to my ability to think clearly.

I finally accepted that I couldn’t do it all. I couldn’t add an active social media presence to my life without making sacrifices elsewhere. Life is full of trade-offs, and in this case, the trade-off wasn’t worth it. The cost of spending time on social media—the evaporation of focus and enthusiasm for writing—is too steep for me.

And I know that because when I made the decision 10ish days ago to sign off (again), the motivation to write came flooding back. There’s a reason this newsletter is going out today, rather than a few weeks ago. There’s a reason my iPhone note titled “Thoughts” (the same e-collection of passing ideas and brain-dumps and mini-inspirations in which I first jotted down ideas for Reframe the Day) has seen a lot more activity over the past week.

Some writers and creators might be able to make social media work. I am not one of them. That brings me to the second point of this essay, which is more a question than an assertion:

Is there some connection between extroversion and enthusiasm for social media? I have no direct evidence here, but I’ve been wondering why posting and engaging on social media takes me so long, drains so much of my focus and energy, and sometimes leaves me incredibly anxious. Maybe—at least for me—engaging proactively on these platforms uses some of the same mental muscles (or mental energy reserves) as a networking reception or a happy hour with people I haven’t met before. I can do it—and I’ll probably enjoy it, even if I’ll wish the whole time that I were reading a book instead—but afterward I’ll be exhausted and wondering if I said or did something awkward or offensive or weird or uncool.

In Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain explains the difference between shyness and introversion. Shyness, Cain writes, “is the fear of social disapproval or humiliation, while introversion is a preference for environments that are not overstimulating.” To me, few digital environments—or any environments, for that matter—are more overstimulating than social media, especially Instagram. No wonder it feels so draining.

Like many introverts, on any given day I have limited reserves of “put myself out there” energy. Rather than spend that energy on Instagram, I’d rather spend it writing and publishing (or, perhaps, having meaningful human conversations).

I’ll end with another observation from Cain in Quiet. “When you’re focused on a project that you care about,” she writes, “you probably find that your energy is boundless.” When I regularly spend time on social media platforms, I come out the other side with my attention scattered and my social anxiety levels rising, feeling guilty, distracted, and adrift. Writing, on the other hand, leaves me energized, clear-headed, and present. For me, at least, the calculation is pretty simple.

SECOND THING

Last week I had an awesome conversation with Erich Wenzel, host of the Feeding Curiosity podcast. Our episode will drop in a few weeks, but it’s well worth your time to subscribe to Feeding Curiosity now!

I recently published a new article (a book excerpt combined with a newsletter excerpt combined with some new thoughts) on Elephant Journal: Are you working on Self-Improvement or Self-Indulgence?

Still need a copy of Reframe the Day? I’m partnering with Paul W. (@readersclub._ on Instagram) to give away 5 copies of the book. Having just spent 1,000+ words talking about why I’m no longer using Instagram… I invite you to head back to Instagram to enter when the contest kicks off later today.

THIRD THING(S)

“Like other old houses, America has an unseen skeleton: its caste system, which is as central to its operation as are the studs and joists that we cannot see in the physical buildings we call home. Caste is the infrastructure of our divisions. It is the architecture of human hierarchy, the subconscious code of instructions for maintaining, in our case, a 400-year-old social order. Looking at caste is like holding the country’s X-ray up to the light.” That’s Isabel Wilkerson in the New York Times. This incredible article is excerpted from her new book, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents, which looks to be as epic—in every sense of the word—as her previous book, The Warmth of Other Suns.

“[N]eutral ‘objective journalism’ is constructed atop a pyramid of subjective decision-making: which stories to cover, how intensely to cover those stories, which sources to seek out and include, which pieces of information are highlighted and which are downplayed. No journalistic process is objective. And no individual journalist is objective, because no human being is. … Neutral objectivity trips over itself to find ways to avoid telling the truth. Neutral objectivity insists we use clunky euphemisms like ‘officer-involved shooting.’ Moral clarity, and a faithful adherence to grammar and syntax, would demand we use words that most precisely mean the thing we’re trying to communicate: ‘the police shot someone.’” That’s Wesley Lowery in the New York Times.

“Mark Zuckerberg has now become the world’s most visible oligarch, leveraging his proximity to power (Trump) for corrupt economic gain. Facebook, despite their claims to be neutral and not wanting to be ‘the arbiter of the truth,’ is turning red (GOP). … Facebook has demonstrated real comfort with being an arbiter, it’s the truth they are allergic to. Specifically, the arbiter of truth for Facebook is … whoever is willing to pay to determine our truths.” That’s Scott Galloway in his email newsletter, No Mercy / No Malice.

As always, thanks for reading!

—Adam