Look at Your Screentime

Look at your screen time from last week. Now imagine if that same number represented hours spent being deliberately conditioned to hate your neighbors. Because in many ways, that's exactly what happened.

The media landscape surrounding us doesn't just reflect divisions - it actively manufactures them, weaponizing our most primal instincts across cultures and continents, while simultaneously eroding our capacity for sustained attention and potentially contributing to a global mental health crisis.

What makes this particularly insidious is how masterfully modern media exploits our brain's fundamental "seeking system" - a neurological network designed to reward exploration, curiosity, and the discovery of novelty. Neurologists like Jaak Panksepp have documented how this seeking circuit, powered by dopamine, once served to help our ancestors discover new resources and solve environmental problems. Today, this same neural pathway is being hijacked by endless content feeds designed to trigger small dopamine hits with each new post, video, or notification.

Our brains literally evolved to seek novelty - it's how we learned and adapted as a species. But what happens when that seeking system is overloaded with artificial novelty that never leads to genuine satisfaction? We find ourselves scrolling compulsively through feeds, jumping between apps, constantly seeking the next bit of stimulation while our capacity for deep engagement withers.

Equally concerning is how modern media platforms have colonized and distorted our innate need for play. Play isn't just for children - it's a fundamental human drive that helps us build social bonds, practice important skills, and process complex emotions in safe contexts. Yet our natural playfulness has been corrupted into endless, often solitary consumption. Instead of creative, connective play experiences, many now spend hours passively absorbing content or engaging in highly structured game environments designed primarily to maximize platform engagement rather than genuine wellbeing.

Some will claim this has always been true of media. But what we face today is different in both scale and precision. The algorithms tracking our every click don't just observe our biases - they deepen them through relentless reinforcement, all while training us to consume content in ever-shorter bursts.

Consider the transformation of our attention spans. Studies show the average attention span has declined significantly in the digital era. Where we once could focus on complex arguments or nuanced narratives, many now struggle to engage with content longer than a few minutes - or even seconds. This isn't accidental. Platforms like TikTok and Instagram deliberately optimize for shorter and shorter content, conditioning audiences to expect constant novelty and stimulation. When our capacity for sustained focus diminishes, so does our ability to understand complex social issues beyond simplistic, divisive narratives.

This fragmentation of attention correlates with concerning mental health trends. Research indicates rates of anxiety and depression have risen substantially among generations raised with social media and smartphones. In the United States, teen depression rates have doubled since 2010. Similar patterns appear in countries from South Korea to the United Kingdom. While many factors contribute to these trends, evidence increasingly points to relationships between constant media consumption, comparison-driven social platforms, and deteriorating mental wellbeing.

Look at how hypersexualized content permeates our media environment. Across platforms, increasingly explicit sexual imagery captivates attention while simultaneously driving cultural wedges. Dating apps promote ever-more casual hookup culture in some communities while triggering fierce traditionalist backlash in others. Music videos with explicit choreography generate both massive viewership and moral outrage. These deliberate provocations don't just happen - they're engineered to maximize engagement through controversy. One side feels liberated, the other threatened, with fewer voices occupying the middle ground with each passing year.

Consider how violence is portrayed and distributed. In Myanmar, Facebook algorithms amplified graphic content showing supposed atrocities by religious minorities, fueling hatred that contributed to real-world violence. In Brazil, extremely violent police raid videos circulate on WhatsApp, driving support for authoritarian policies in some communities while generating horror in others. In the United States, edited footage of urban protests gets packaged differently for conservative and progressive audiences, with each side seeing only the clips that confirm their existing narratives about who perpetrates violence and who suffers from it.

Some will argue these divisions reflect natural differences in values. But examine how media platforms deliberately sort us into ever-narrower communities. The recommendation systems on YouTube don't accidentally lead viewers toward increasingly extreme content - they're designed to maximize watch time by feeding us progressively more provocative material. The result? Someone beginning with legitimate questions about gender roles might end up consuming vitriolic content demonizing the opposite sex. Someone exploring urban crime statistics might be gradually led toward dehumanizing racial rhetoric.

This divisive content, combined with the exploitation of our seeking system and shortened attention spans, creates perfect conditions for mental health challenges. When we consume rapid-fire, emotionally provocative content that reinforces our worst fears about "the other side," we're left chronically anxious, angry, and disconnected from genuine human community. Studies link excessive social media use with increased feelings of loneliness, inadequacy, and fear - precisely the emotional states that make us vulnerable to divisive messaging.

The loss of genuine play compounds this problem. Where humans once played together across differences - finding common ground through shared enjoyment - we now increasingly retreat into separate media bubbles. The collaborative, creative elements of play that once built empathy and understanding across social divisions have been replaced by passive consumption that reinforces existing prejudices.

I anticipate skepticism when I say this is happening globally. Yet we see it everywhere: In India, where increasingly partisan news channels present wildly different accounts of religious conflicts. In Poland, where entertainment programming portrays LGBTQ+ individuals as either social threats or persecuted minorities depending on the channel. In Kenya, where social media amplifies tribal tensions through selectively edited content. Simultaneously, mental health professionals worldwide report similar patterns of technology-linked anxiety disorders, attention difficulties, and mood disturbances among their patients.

Some will insist they personally can distinguish fact from manipulation. Perhaps you believe your media diet is balanced and your judgments sound. Yet research consistently shows that those most confident in their immunity to propaganda are often most susceptible to it. Similarly, most of us overestimate our ability to resist the attentional pull of our devices - even as we check them compulsively throughout the day.

This fragmentation serves powerful interests. Divided populations rarely unite against economic exploitation. Angry citizens focused on cultural grievances pay less attention to corruption. Media conglomerates profit from our outrage while political extremists harvest it for power. Meanwhile, pharmaceutical companies profit from the rising demand for medications to treat anxiety and depression, creating a perverse economic incentive against addressing root causes.

I don't stand here claiming immunity or superiority. I too struggle daily with these forces. But confronting uncomfortable truths is the first step toward reclaiming media's potential to inform rather than inflame, to build bridges rather than walls, and to support rather than undermine our psychological wellbeing.

The choice before us is clear: Will we remain passive consumers sorted into hostile tribes by algorithms designed to exploit our neurological vulnerabilities? Or will we become active citizens demanding a media ecosystem that serves democracy rather than division, that fosters genuine connection rather than isolation, that channels our seeking instincts and play needs toward meaningful growth rather than endless, unsatisfying consumption?

The resistance you feel to this message may be the strongest evidence of its truth.

Thank you