We're Old Enough to Know Better

Right, I'm going to hold my hands up here.

I've been suckered in too.

I'll go on social media.

I'll have a little look.

Then another little look.

Then somehow I've been down a rabbit hole for half an hour, getting increasingly wound up about something I didn't even know existed when I woke up that morning.

Then I come off it.

Right. That's enough.

And then...

Back I go.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Honestly, it's ridiculous.

And I know I'm not the only one.

Because we're human. We've got that little thing called FOMO — fear of missing out.

And a little bit of FOMO isn't necessarily a bad thing. We want to know what's happening. We want to belong. We don't want to be the only person who hasn't heard the news.

The problem is when somebody turns that very human instinct into a business model.

Because suddenly we're not just checking in.

We're checking constantly.

What's happened?

What have I missed?

Who said what?

What should I be angry about today?

And before you know it, you're exhausted.

Now here's the bit that really gets me.

Repetition. Fear. Slogans. Emotional manipulation. Creating an enemy. Getting people to follow the crowd.

We looked at old propaganda and thought:

Blimey. How did people fall for that?

And yet here we are.

We've got a tiny little machine in our pockets doing a very good job of keeping our attention.

I'm not saying every news story is propaganda. I'm not saying every journalist is manipulating us. I'm saying we need to understand what the algorithm is doing.

It knows what makes us stop scrolling.

Anger.

Fear.

Shock.

Outrage.

And once we react, we get more of it.

Then more.

Then more.

Until we're sitting in an echo chamber thinking:

Surely everyone can see this?

No.

You're just being shown more of the people who agree with you.

And yes, I'm talking to myself here.

Because I've actually had to take some pretty drastic action.

I bought one of those little plastic phone lock boxes with a timer.

When I first got it, I thought, Right, I'll stick my phone in here for five hours.

Easy.

I locked it.

And I swear to God, the amount of times I reached for that phone over those five hours...

If I'd had a pound every time, I'd be bloody loaded.

It was like a reflex.

My hand would go looking for it before my brain had even remembered I'd locked it away.

Oh shit.

It's in the box.

And that's when I realised:

And I don't particularly like admitting that.

But there we are.

I'm addicted to my phone.

I don't like how I feel without it.

I feel disconnected.

A little bit lost.

Like I'm missing something.

And that's exactly why I think we need to get a grip of this.

Not because phones are evil.

Not because social media is evil.

But because we need to make sure we're still in charge.

That little phone lock has actually been brilliant for me.

And the funny thing is, when it opens, I don't dive straight back in anymore.

I ease myself into it.

A little bit more consciously.

And maybe that's the whole point.

We don't necessarily have to throw our phones in the sea.

We just need to remember that we're allowed to put them down.

Especially those of us over 40.

Because we're old enough to know better.

We've lived through a world before algorithms decided what appeared in front of us.

We've changed our minds.

We've got things wrong.

We've learned that headlines don't tell you the whole story.

So perhaps now is the time to become a little more discerning.

Read beyond the headline.

Find another source.

Read something independent.

Read somebody you disagree with.

Have a proper conversation.

Go for a walk without your phone glued to your hand.

And sometimes...

Just sit there.

Doing absolutely nothing.

Because here's the thing.

The younger generation watches us.

They see us reach for our phones the second there's a quiet moment.

They see us reacting.

Scrolling.

Sharing.

Arguing with strangers.

And then we tell them to put their phones down.

Hmm.

Bit awkward, isn't it?

We can't ask them to have a healthy relationship with technology if we haven't worked out our own.

So maybe growing up isn't about becoming more certain.

Knowing when to listen.

Knowing when to question.

Knowing when to say I don't know.

Knowing when to walk away.

And knowing when to put the bloody phone down.

So tonight, before you have another little scroll, ask yourself: