Against Offlineism
Modern freedom comes not from ditching the digital world, but from engaging with it on our own terms.
Humans are endlessly intrigued by (and often a bit jealous of!) others who lead distinctly different lifestyles that feel out of reach to them. With this in mind, it is not surprising the “Luddite teens” of Brooklyn have captured the public’s imagination.
The next-gen founders of the “Luddite Club” were first covered by the New York Times in December 2022. In the Times’ telling, a group of Brooklyn-based teens had formed a community with the goal of seeking liberation from the suffocating modern world of phones and addictive social media platforms. Some of the club’s members have ditched smartphones for flip phones, while others have taken steps like locking their phones away in a box to dramatically curtail their screen time. A newly-published follow up story in the Times finds many of the club’s original members now in college, “holding firm and gaining new converts.”
It’s hard to deny these teens have a point. Digital dependency — especially addiction to social media — has become one of the most pervasive and under-recognized issues of the modern age. Teenagers, as digital natives, are uniquely vulnerable: research shows the average teenager spends more than seven hours a day on a phone, nearly five of which are devoted to social media. Alarming spikes in teen depression, anxiety, and eating disorders (especially among girls) have also been linked to social media use, suggesting that our “always online” culture may be fueling a mental health crisis.
At the same time, the Luddite teens’ engagement in a new and quasi-religious practice that might be called “Offlineism” is a luxury many of us can’t afford. Their asceticism is admirable but unattainable for the vast majority of us who have little choice but to work and communicate in a highly efficient digitally-mediated world.
So how should we respond to their example? The lesson isn’t that we should all toss our phones into the nearest body of water. Rather than emulate the teens’ total abstinence, we can learn from their insights about reclaiming parts of our lives that have been swallowed up by screens. We could benefit, for example, from internalizing one Luddite Club member’s observation on how easy it is to lose perspective on social media:
“You post something on social media, you don’t get enough likes, then you don’t feel good about yourself. That shouldn’t have to happen to anyone. Being in this club reminds me we’re all living on a floating rock and that it’s all going to be OK.”
The real challenge for the rest of us is to forge what might be called a “Middle Way” between the extremes of full-throttle digital dependency and Luddite-style digital asceticism — a balanced path that preserves human agency and embraces healthy limits while still reaping the benefits of technology.
This synthesis requires self-awareness. It involves acknowledging the potency of social media (and smartphones in general) to hijack our focus and erode our autonomy, while also recognizing the vital roles these tools can play in our lives. By creating new boundaries (such as screen-time limits and turning to non-addictive digital spaces like group chats and podcasts) and being more deliberate about how we use these platforms and tools, we can move toward a healthier and more livable equilibrium.
The internet isn’t going anywhere, and neither are we. In the end, the remedy for our current crisis — of addiction, faltering mental health, and weakening social bonds — will never be found at the far ends of the spectrum. The extremes of “Onlineism” and “Offlineism” both come with trade-offs most people aren’t willing or able to make. Instead, we need another way: a modern approach that gives us room to be fully human and free from the grip of exploitative algorithms, while still benefiting from the convenience and connectivity technology can offer.
The Luddite Teens should be understood not as hermits sounding an impossible call for total disconnection, but as experimenters showing that a different lifestyle is possible. Their resolve to step back from smartphones and social media — even if it feels extreme to many — serves as a wake-up call and an inspiration. Their example can help each of us recalibrate: to recognize where technology helps and where it hinders. From there, we can consciously choose how, when, and why we’re online.
The path forward isn’t about rejecting the digital world; it’s about making sure we remain in control of the world we create — holding technology in our hands, rather than letting it take hold of us.