Netflix Isn't Your Problem

Minimizing distraction is the pet self-improvement project of 2024.

“I need to spend less time on social media.”

“I need to watch less Netflix.”

“I need to get my kids off screens.”

We sense that the way we spend our time isn’t honoring the life we want to lead, and yet somehow we find ourselves a shortcut in villainizing these tools. We feel the need to “fight” them. We worry about their impact on the development of the next generation.

So like someone trying to stamp out termites one by one as they come out of the wall, we make boundaries for ourselves and white-knuckle our way through “doing better,” because we feel like we “should.”?

I’ve written before about how should is a terrible authority figure. Should gives us instructions from on high with no context. Why am I trying to make this change in my life? Because I feel like it’s something I should do. Sometimes we know the why behind this should, but so often we don’t.

Saying that we need to put our phones down seems like the right thing to say. It’s not healthy to spend so much time on screens. We need to be more present.?

But managing our screen use in this way is much like the way people used to parent. “You must do it because I said so.” Some people still parent this way, and though I do understand that perspective, my study of children and human beings in general points me to believe that we do a lot better when we know why we’re doing what we’re doing—and by extension, why we’re not doing what we’re not doing.

We do a lot better when we know why we're doing what we're doing — and by extension, why we're not doing what we're not doing.

I think many of us could benefit from realizing that our philosophies of parenting, whether or not we even have children of our own, are actually our philosophies of how we lead ourselves.

A few weeks ago, I was driving to dinner with my two children and my four-year-old daughter asked if she could have a piece of her gum. Her seven-year-old brother chimed in and said, “No Mae, we’re about to have dinner, you don’t need to have gum right now.” I told my daughter, “Sure, you can have the gum if you want to, but I want you to know that we are going to be eating dinner in just 15 minutes and you’ll have to spit it out. Also, when your gum runs out, you won’t have any more.” She thought about it for a second and said, “I’m going to wait to have gum until later.” I asked my son if he saw the difference between our two communications, and how he himself preferred to be communicated with. The difference was so stark that he wasn’t even irritated with me for inserting a teachable moment into a car ride.

In one exchange, we experience a “NO, you can’t have what you want because it’s not good for you and because I said so.” The result, on her end, is probably anger and frustration at the authority figure, a lack of agency, and disappointment about what she’s no longer going to enjoy.?

In the second exchange, she’s provided with more information that helps her make an empowered decision about what’s good for her. All the information she had in her four-year-old brain 30 seconds ago was telling her that gum sounded pretty good right now. But by stopping and realizing some other realities about the situation—that her resources were limited, and that there was hope for future enjoyment of gum—it was actually pretty easy for her to set the gum aside.

There was not a right or wrong answer about whether she should chew the gum, really. She had the chance to choose her path. But the critical part was both that she chose it, and that she knew why she was choosing it.?

Not a lot has changed in our hearts since we were four years old, to be honest. Our programming is the same—to lead the healthiest, most enjoyable lives we can in the most efficient way possible, and to do so while cooperating with others. That’s the program.

Not a lot has changed in our hearts since we were four years old, to be honest. Our programming is the same—to lead the healthiest, most enjoyable lives we can in the most efficient way possible, and to do so while cooperating with others. That’s the program.

But there’s another program that’s often taught and gets hung up in our subconscious. That program says, I am bad and incapable, and my life is about training my wayward self up into something respectable, even if I have to do so kicking and screaming.

How we lead ourselves has a parent/child aspect to it. And in dealing with something like this technology/time management issue, we often default to that old parenting model. You should spend less time on screens because…well…that’s what everyone else is saying you should do. Limiting our technology has become sort of a new morality. Why? Because it’s always been so much easier for us to blame the thing than really examine why we’re doing what we’re doing.?

Truthfully, I love social media. I’ve curated my feed in such a way that I learn so much from it every day. I find value in the “vapid” stuff as well—it is really cool to see people do choreographed dances on TikTok, take their risks to connect with society, get better at their crafts. Social media is the new way that we get to do everything we ever did before—have fun, learn, connect with others.?

Does it have its limitations? Absolutely! We should learn about parasocial relationships. We should ask ourselves whether we are running away from real-life, intimate relationships. We should examine whether we are escaping the stress of life in a BandAid sort of way, trying to cover up the reality that we’re not sure if we’re in the right job or marriage.

<< There were a lot of shoulds in that last paragraph—shoulds are different when we actually know why they’re there.>>

The “risks” of all of it—are real. But you medicate, escape, avoid your real life with a limitless number of activities. The problem isn’t the screens.

Distraction isn’t new.

The “risks” of all of it—are real. But you medicate, escape, avoid your real life with a limitless number of activities. The problem isn’t the screens. Distraction isn't new.

What we must come to realize is that our relationship with technology is actually deeply personal.

If we take a “break” from social media just because you sense it taking over your life, and you think by removing it that you’re going to make some kind of great breakthrough, you’re mistaken.

You might make a breakthrough, but it won’t be just because you unplugged. It will be because you also listened. You also discovered. You also learned.

Managing your relationship with technology isn’t about winning some kind of a battle of temptation. It’s the wrong fight.

Technology isn’t the enemy. Your self-indulgence isn’t the enemy.

Nothingness is the enemy.

Nothingness is a life where we don’t have any clue why we do what we do.

Nothingness is a life where we don’t have any clue why we do what we do.

Nothing we do is on purpose.

We’re motivated either only by survival or by trying to meet the expectations of others around us. (Those expectations are quick to change, by the way, because those same others don’t have any idea what they’re doing, either.)

That is not how I want to live. I can no longer subscribe to this belief that who I am, at my core, is lazy and selfish. I want more, and I know I want more. Like the bubbling, molten core of the earth, my core wants to live instead of survive. And living, to me, no longer means successfully navigating the minefields of the world’s expectations of me. And it doesn’t mean, for me, a sense of enlightened self that doesn’t need the pleasures of this world. Many of the pleasures of this world come from a place of great creativity and gift-giving.

Is my life ruled by pleasure? Absolutely not. But when I find myself “binging” on a new show or game (which in my life, probably happens every few months), I now switch my mindset to intentionality. I do it on purpose. Watching Bridgerton doesn’t control me…I revel in it. It’s not a guilty pleasure, it’s a grateful pleasure. It’s creative, it evokes wonderful feelings, it taps me into a place of romance I haven’t felt since my love with my spouse was new 13 years ago.

It's not a guilty pleasure. It's a grateful pleasure.

I’m no longer trying to tame my desire for pleasure in this life. I’ve scientifically tested whether enjoying myself was going to destroy my care and compassion for others, and came up with a surprising result: not a bit.

I enjoyed it so much, I watched it on my phone while walking to the store yesterday and ran into a tree branch. (Do not try this at home.) I didn’t find myself pathetic—I laughed.?

Because less than 24 hours later, I am here with you, gentle reader. (Bridgerton fans—I couldn’t help it.) After three hours spent furthering my coaching education so I can serve you better as an author, speaker, and coach, I’m here writing to you, offering what I have. My time of indulgence didn’t ruin me. It freed me. Because I knew what I was doing when I did it. And now, when it comes time to get back to work, I’m glad to do it because I feel free. I’m doing what I love. Writing these words isn’t a burden because it’s not a have to, it’s a get to.

I don’t do this perfectly. I spend more time than I intend to, and get less sleep than I want. Companies like TikTok and Netflix are not just pure beacons of human creativity, they’re also business machines designed to manipulate us to take more of our time than we intended to give.?

The people who are smart about technology design and human psychology are talking about this, and they should keep talking about this.

But I think our crusades to demonize technology sound eerily similar to the voices of 200 years ago that told us we should get our noses out of books. We wouldn’t dream of telling our kids that now, in fact it makes us laugh. So why, now that we have the information of the world at our fingertips, are we making technology our enemy, instead of our friend?

Perhaps instead of trying to tame ourselves all the time, we should learn to unleash ourselves instead. Perhaps we are afraid of what we might uncover if we ask ourselves the real questions. Perhaps we will discover that we’re good at things, and life isn’t so bad after all, and that there’s more to life than keeping busy.

Perhaps instead of trying to tame ourselves all the time, we should learn to unleash ourselves instead.

Maybe it’s like Marianne Williamson said, that we aren’t really afraid of our own inadequacy. That it’s our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

Go ahead. It’s safe to come out. You can live life on purpose.

And if you don't know where to start...you know where to find me.