The Sincerity Crisis
Written by Aarani Diana, one of our opinion writers. This piece was edited by Stephanie O, our editor-in-chief.
“I wish the world were ending tomorrow. Then I could take the next train, arrive at your doorstep in Vienna, and say: “Come with me. We are going to love each other without scruples or fear or restraint. Because the world is ending tomorrow.” Perhaps we don’t love unreasonably because we think we have time, or have to reckon with time. But what if we don't have time? Or what if time, as we know it, is irrelevant? Ah, if only the world were ending tomorrow. We could help each other very much.”
Unknown, often misattributed to Franz Kafka’s Letters to Milena
“In times of crisis, we must all decide again and again whom we love.”
Frank O’Hara
In 2019, I read 100 books. I turned eighteen years old that year, and wanted to fall back in love with reading, which had been my childhood passion, as I found myself reaching adulthood. I set the goal at the beginning of the year, and somehow, seemingly against all odds, completed it. I have always loved reading, so much. I feel that literature is something that can transport you to a world beyond imagination. It's an escape from a real life that sometimes is not the kindest. More than any place, or any person, literature has always been a home to me.
I have tried in the COVID years since then to replicate my feat, attempting to read various things, but post March-2020, I felt that I couldn't quite reach the same drive I had for reading again, and I couldn't place why. Like many during the pandemic, I was lonely and dissatisfied, and rarely away from my phone or laptop. And heavily depressed. I lacked motivation and concentration, and ended up dropping out of college (twice).
It is 2023 now, and I'll be 22 in September, and again I have embarked on my 100 books reading challenge (I'm 26 down so far!!). In 2019, upon my initial pursuit of it, I remember continuously thinking "ten pages at a time, ten pages at a time" while I read, and like that, I somehow got through a hundred books. I went back to that mantra this time around. But I find myself struggling. In spite of my somewhat improved mental health compared to previous years, I still find that sometimes, even those ten pages are a struggle. Around the fourth page, a lot of the time, I resist the urge to reach for my phone. Sometimes, by my second or third run of the ten pages, my mind feels dissatisfied and agitated. I hate this, genuinely, and I am consciously trying to train myself not to feel this way, with different methods reaching varying degrees of success. I’m the biggest reader in my friend group, which I won't lie, is something I am rather proud of. But if I am feeling this way, as the bibliophile, what about them? How do they read? How do they concentrate? Where does this lack of focus and constant frustration come from?
The Information Age
The most common descriptor for the age of information is the shift from the industrial-based world to information-based globalised economy beginning in the mid-20th century. We now have access to data from a literal million sources at our fingertips. Everything someone could possibly want to know about anything is available to us online. To reach this current point has been an interesting journey. OliSUNvia talks about the origins of the information age in her video essay ‘drowning in entertainment: the age of distraction’. She, in turn, refers heavily to Neil Postman's 1985 book ‘Amusing Ourselves to Death’. The following is a shortened version of how information became commodified:
As man conquered space, and people began to live over greater and greater distances from each other, there became a need to transmit information across wide distances fast. With the advent of the telegraph, knowledge could be passed from one place to another in a matter of minutes, with distance not being a limiting factor. Prior to the telegraph, news could only travel as fast as the mode of transportation, which, for long distances at the time, was predominantly trains. It was now possible to tell someone thousands of miles away something instantaneously. But this served a problem, with the ability to pass information being so fast, then people wanted to know more things all the time. There was a decline in the value of information being shared, and an emphasis on news that stimulated the interest of the one hearing it.
Very rarely after we have listened to the news do we make any changes for our plans for the day. Rather, most of the time, we simply switch it off and proceed to do what we were always planning on doing. Occasionally, something does affect us, deeply, but even then, are we really called to action as a result? Rather, it stays in our minds, and passively haunts us. That feeling, the anxiety or fear or dread, it seeps into our everyday lives, yet so rarely are we actually directly affected by it.
With mass media, knowledge and information became rather anonymous. Prior to the telegraph, most of the information that was shared was community-based. Oftentimes, news was something that was relevant to the person consuming it. But with the telegraph, the focus shifted. With this, we stopped knowing about things, but rather, we simply started knowing things. Most social media users could tell you that there is a seeming lack of nuance online. We see statements completely divorced from contexts, and without this much needed supplemental material, our own biases and preconceptions are forced to fill in the gaps. This is similar to the telegraph, where short-form content could only be transmitted.
The Attention Economy
The Principles of Economies defines economics as a social science that studies how limited resources are allocated. In a world where there is an endless supply of information fed to us for capital, then what is actually scarce? The answer is our attention. In our modern time, it is a commodity. For the definition of what a commodity is, Marx’s Das Kapital offers the following “A commodity is an external object that satisfies a human need either directly or indirectly”. Our attention, as opposed to something that we innately have, is something that is produced by us. Attention can come in several forms, but in the information age, it can best be measured by how much time is spent fixated on a singular thing. When we pay attention to something, we neglect other things. This is the opportunity cost.
Most times, when we go on the internet, we have a specific goal in mind. Typically, it is the desire for some information. We have the very normal and very human urge to want to know what is going on, in the world at large, or in the lives of people we know or care about. So we open our apps and scroll through for a bit. But the way social media works is that it is designed to keep you scrolling. In spite of having obtained our goal, we keep the site open. We keep wanting more. This is by design. The AI-driven algorithm colonises our attention. It monopolises our minds.
Around November last year, I deleted Twitter and Instagram from my phone, because I thought myself too dependent on them. I was constantly opening them while out with other people, only to immediately close them without having really looked at anything. I didn’t fully understand this compulsion, it was something I was doing out of habit that was making me feel like I was neglecting the people around me, so I made an effort to consciously stop it. However, in the immediate aftermath, I still found myself opening the ‘social’ folder on my phone, though the things I would spend time scrolling through were no longer there.
In periods where I have been plagued by low mental health, I have found myself mindlessly scrolling through social media. At these times, I have been overloaded with information that often distressed me, but I did not have the capacity to empathise with. I would see the latest news about a natural disaster, calls for donations or commissions for chronically ill artists, discourse about whether or not certain oppressed people deserved human decency, updates on upcoming books or films, cat videos, calls for submissions for lit magazines, some of the most casually beautiful poetry I had ever seen, and not have it in me to feel anything at all. The algorithm fed on the numbness I was feeling at those times.
An analogy I have come up with to compare it is when you’re sick and can only stomach eating plain, white porridge. You rest for a bit or take some meds for a few days, and then you’re more or less back to normal. But you can’t exactly eat totally normally. You can’t eat your favourite foods immediately; your body feels weak and can’t process it. So you stick to porridge for a bit. I feel like social media during those low periods is porridge, and the nature of the million-dollar algorithm means you can’t just have porridge with some chicken in it as a transition food as you get stronger. It means you keep scrolling, even as your overall mental health recovers. When genuine meaning becomes too tough to process, the algorithm masquerades as comfort. Your mind becomes numb and you become increasingly desensitised to the things around you.
Insta-Gratification and Pavlovian Responses in Social Media Users
Within the world of the internet and social media, users are given feedback and responses instantaneously. We expect things immediately, likes, comments, follows, etc. A video buffers, even slightly, and we get annoyed. This differs significantly from the offline world, where living in states of uncertainty and waiting is the norm, if not the standard. As such, social media is an appealing place to be absorbed. Everything is given to you immediately all the time.
Pavlovian conditioning describes the phenomena of an event prompting a mental response by association. In 1927, Ivan Pavlov observed that his dogs, who salivated whenever they were fed, started to salivate at the sound of a bell after he began ringing it while feeding them. This became what we now call classical conditioning, or a Pavlovian response. Our relationship with social media is similar. This system creates what is called a habit loop, follows the pattern of cue, craving, response, and reward. In with apps and notifications, it goes something like this:
Cue: A pop up notification causes your phone to vibrate
Craving: You are curious about what the notification is about
Response: You unlock your phone to look at it
Reward: Your curiosity is sated, triggering a feeling of satisfaction and dopamine release in the brain.
The dopamine rush we feel often on social media is intentional, but most of the things that young people are looking at, memes, threads, and cute animal videos, aren’t particularly substantive. Things that carry weight and have a genuine impact on us are fewer and far between, and their seriousness is lost amist the sea of meaningless knowledge of the internet.
Why We’re Lonely
The internet gives us the capacity and option to connect with anyone and everyone all over the world, at any time. Yet we aren’t doing that. Very rarely are any of our online interactions particularly satisfying or fulfilling. Rather, our constant superficial connection to everyone just seems to emphasise how alone we are. Time spent absorbed online, looking at lives that seem so much happier and more attractive than our own just hammers home the idea that we are missing out on things, and we are helpless to the feelings of isolation and exclusion. We have a perception of connection with each other, but without any of the warmth and intimacy that is needed for meaningful social relationships and interactions.
This discontentment a lot of the time manifests internally, with someone being frustrated by their own perceived inadequacies, a lack of social ability or capacity, and resenting themselves for their shortcomings, and/or externally, with an individual being susceptible to hateful dialogues, viewing other people as unfairly privileged for their seemingly ‘better’ lives.
Loneliness is a fundamental aspect of the human condition, but the social media-induced state of frustration and dissatisfaction seeps into our offline lives. Living in a constant illusion of connection drives us to either want to find more meaning in every interaction we have in person, and are confused and unhappy when we cannot, or we just feel numb to the people around us, and struggle with socialising.
That isn’t to say that loneliness, true loneliness, separate from the internet world, in moderation doesn’t have it’s own benefits. Periods of loneliness and the closely associated boredom that comes with it lead to periods of creativity and fulfilment. The constant stimulation to the point of numbness we experience as a result of our social media use prevents this. It exhausts us and leaves us wondering why we lack the capacity or ability to do things we aspire to do. Down phases, phases of boredom, mediocrity, and ennui are fundamental in reaching phases of high achievement and creativity. The passive stimulation that we are victim to with constant scrolling stops us from reaching higher levels of our own potential. The overload of information we are flooded with is a crutch, not a blessing. No singular person can be productive all of the time, but we kind of expect that of ourselves, and are frustrated when we can’t be. We are not machines. We need rest and boredom and mediocrity. It’s part of the human experience, and we are being denied that.
Capitalism
In this attention economy, it’s you versus a million dollar algorithm designed to keep your focus. When your time and mind are spent absorbed by social media scrolling, you neglect other things in your life. I would like to think everyone has a little bit of ‘wanting to make the world better’ in them, but when your head is numb and overstimulated and tired, it’s going to be hard to do that. The opportunity cost of our attention held hostage is actually getting to go out and experience life. So much of our time is spent fixated on school or jobs or other responsibilities, and now the little free time we have is fixated on a screen. Our current society demands that we devote ourselves entirely to productivity in pursuit of monetary gain. Many feel guilty when they are not doing things that are productive, and it’s common to see people monetising their hobbies or interests. Most of the time, the highest form of praise that someone could give your baking or knitting or art is “oh, you could sell this!”. The idea of doing something for the sake of personal enrichment or happiness has become absurd.
It Isn’t Actually A Competition: We’re All the Same
Capitalism has us constantly believing that we are in competition with one another, trying to find ways to get ahead in life. An idea that is sold to us a lot of the time is that working hard will lead us to a happier life. You are in charge of your own future. Your effort is supposed to be directly proportional with the intended outcome, that being success and happiness. But how many of us actually feel that way? We think of the people around us as candidates for the life that we want to have, because we understand that only a select few can achieve a dream worthy lifestyle, and a lot of the time, we would rather it be us than them living it. So much of the time, we are working and working to try and achieve a pipe-dream that doesn’t exist. Very few people can genuinely get anywhere with hard work alone, and they’re the lucky ones. Effort is not proportional with outcome. There are so many other factors that go into it, factors that most of the time, are completely out of and beyond our control.With the exhaustion we feel after working or education, there is little energy for the pursuit of anything emotionally nourishing. Hobbies and interests slowly disintegrate away from everyday life, leaving only things that are simple, and easy, and doable being the most attractive option. Most of the time, those are what is accessible online.
The realisation that attention, what I devote my heart and soul towards, is a commodity that is being bought and sold by large and faceless corporations, is probably the most dystopian and chilling thing I’ve known. I think it is a certain type of evil to numb the minds of those who only want a better life.
In George Orwell’s 1984, news and information that is deemed embarrassing or unproductive to the authoritarian Big Brother is incinerated. In Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, the citizens are given a happiness-inducing drug called ‘soma’. The following is an excerpt from Neil Postman’s book Amusing Ourselves to Death that analyses both novels:
“Huxley and Orwell did not prophesy the same thing. Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions." In 1984, Orwell added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we fear will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we desire will ruin us”
I think most people think we are in an Orwellian world, with Big Tech watching our every move, but in contrast, I think we are in a world more akin to the one envisioned by Huxley, where we are numbing and amusing ourselves superficially as opposed to pursuing things that are meaningful. That isn’t to say that everything we do all the time has to be super deep and enriching, but I do think that we could stand to have more meaningful lives.
Algorithms and AI
The algorithm has been referenced several times throughout this piece, but it has not been defined. To a certain extent, I feel that it goes without saying. Most people under 30 could tell you, it’s what customises your social media feeds to cause you to keep scrolling. A more specific definition would be a mathematical tool that uses a set of predetermined rules to rank, organise, and filter the content that is viewed by users. Different websites use different methods to drive user engagement. There has been a lot of controversy over what exactly the algorithm is feeding to us, with Tiktok in particular coming under a lot of criticism for its appearance-driven content. Most of what we see online is driven by data from our own previous engagement, and the engagement of other similar users, who view similar things. This leads us into neatly packaged lives, ripe for advertisers to harness our data. The average person sees over 300 ads in a day, and these are things that are designed to sell us products, people, and lives. The desire to make money for a very small and select few is what is driving and influencing the majority of our lives.
Analytics
If you couldn’t already tell, I’m a writer. I write poetry, and fiction, and in the past few years, have branched into the kind of creative non-fiction and essay form that you’re reading right now. Writing is something I have loved since I was a child, and it is something I want to spend the rest of my life doing. I was drawn to it because of the impact that so many pieces of literature had on me. I constantly found myself in this state of wonder at the art that was able to blossom out in my mind from just words on a page. When I read books about the quest to become a better person, I wanted to be a better person. When I read books about people I didn’t understand, I learned empathy. In my child-brain, literature was the way to change people, to make the world a little kinder. And I wanted to do that. With my words, I wanted to make the world a little more compassionate.
I started my blog when I was around fifteen, without too many thoughts in mind. I just wanted to share my words with the world. It was when I did this that I discovered the concept of analytics. Analytics are the systematic analysis of data. I would post something, maybe send it to a few friends, and then eagerly go to the statistics page, waiting to see views coming in. I think at that time, I’d have been lucky if I got twenty. I think I’m lucky if I get that amount now, if I’m being honest. I wanted to be a good writer, and this was the metric. Likes, shares, views, and comments, that was how I knew if my work was worth it or not. It was a numerical, quantifiable way to measure my work. In the world of the internet, something that gets more attention and views is better than something that doesn’t, it’s really that simple. So my stuff couldn’t be good, could it? I’ve gone through bouts of having no motivation to write or post because it didn’t matter if I did or not, it’d get a handful of views from people around me. I am in a constant crisis about whether or not it’s even worth it to write anymore, our society is so audio-visual based, and most people don’t really care to read.
The thing that kind of keeps me going is that I genuinely love writing. There’s something so beautiful about expression through art, and I love doing that, as well as sharing it with people I love. I love talking to people about the things I’m working on or have been reading. The love and passion for art and sharing it is so much deeper and more interesting than anything the numerical statistics of a post and it’s engagement could adequately give. That isn’t something quantifiable.
So what can we do?
Throughout the process of writing this, I've been grappling a lot with whether or not I have been too vulnerable, and exposed too much of myself. So much of what I am sharing in this piece is a product of over a year of reading and has been living in my thoughts for longer than that. CJ the X’s video was the first time I felt like my general unhappiness with the state of society was articulated, and I’ve been researching and learning a lot in the time since then. I think I'll be eternally grateful to Stephanie, incognito's editor, for giving me a space and a platform to share all of this. The whole writing journey this has forced me to reckon with a pretty stark realisation: sincerity is hard. Genuinity is hard. Having to share parts of yourself, that is difficult. Yet, I felt I had to do that here. Not only would it have felt really hypocritical not to, but I’ve kind of reached a point where… I care more to exist as myself than to create an image of myself. I’ve realised I’m a lot more complex and interesting than who I might come across as online. It might sound egotistical but I am honestly starting to think that of everyone online. This is only a facet of us, not the whole picture. Realising that has helped me be a little more empathetic too.
I think most people can relate to the fear of intimacy and vulnerability, and yet, that's somehow, something that every one of us is feeling. The solution to that fear isn't to just shut ourselves away and numb ourselves with distractions, rather, the solution is to meet people, be a part of your community, talk, and share things. Not everyone you meet is going to be someone you want to share all of yourself and your life with, but you will find people. The world is so much bigger and brighter than we think it is a lot of the time. Being a part of something bigger than yourself in some way, that is never a waste. Though we may superficially feel connected to others via social media and the internet, that isn't real. You know things about people, as opposed to knowing people. And knowing people is... really great honestly. You will experience so much love, happiness, creativity, and joy in your life. But to do that, you're going to have to experience a lot of sadness, frustration, boredom, and loneliness too. And that's okay! That's honestly okay. Those moments, you're going to carry them with you and they're going to make the happy ones just feel a little happier, and they're going to make you just a little kinder to the people around you when you see them going through similar things. It will at times suck, yes, but that's just... the nature of the human experience. That's what being alive is.
Sometimes, when things seem too bleak or hopeless, or my head feels too cluttered, I switch off and go for a walk in the park near my house. I usually go pretty early, or in the late afternoon, so it isn’t too hot, and I get the added experience of either the soft and cool blue sky, or the warm sunset glittering on the lake. Most of the visitors are retirees who come almost daily to chat with each other and do their taichi, but there are also a lot of young families with kids, happily running all over the place. Sometimes I see kids on bikes or scooters, or people walking their dogs. I once saw a mother-daughter duo walking two cats, a ginger and a tuxedo, on a leash!! That was a highlight. Like me, there are a few twentysomethings, but they are fewer and far between. Last time I was there, I saw a young man stopping periodically as he walked, his eyes on the ground. I realised when I passed him that he was picking up any litter he noticed, to throw away at the bin a little further down. There was no phone, no camera, no audience. It was just someone doing something kind. Whenever I’m on the verge of losing my faith in people, I try and go there. I think the world can be a lot warmer if we just allow ourselves to live in it a little. You can’t aspire for a new world without trying to change your own individual one.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This piece was written by one of our literature writers, Aarani. Reach them at @aaranistar on Twitter!
This piece was edited by our editor-in-chief, Stephanie O.
Comments