The Spiritual Consequences of Tech
Addiction
By: Adam Jeske
I got my first iPhone in 2010, as I
started a role in communications and helping lead social media for a campus
ministry.
“I’ll see if I like it. I might take
it back,” I told my friend Cory over lunch. He smirked. “Adam, no one who gets
one of these phones ever goes back to life without one.”
He was right, of course. A
tremendous amount of my life moved from other spaces into this tool: maps,
books, newspapers, calendars, music, notes, lists, alarms, reminders, photos,
banking, files, recordings, calls, calculations, weather forecasts, and even my
Bible and my friendships. Nearly all aspects of my life were somehow tied in
with or managed through this little item of metal and glass in my pocket.
With so much of life tied up in my
constant connectivity, I started to expect everything to always involve my
phone. If I wasn’t using my phone, I felt like I wasn’t doing anything. If I
wasn’t looking at my phone, I wasn’t seeing anything. If I wasn’t touching my
phone, I wasn’t living.
The Problem With
Constant Connection
Many of us fear being disconnected
from our phones (or whatever new device you can think of). We relish and crave
our constant connectivity.
We recognize intuitively that this
is an issue. And now, research is starting to paint a startling picture of our
problem.
A study in Psychological Reports:
Disability and Trauma seems to imply that social media withdrawal closely
resembles that of a drug addict crashing back down to earth. We respond more
quickly to feedback from Facebook than to traffic signs.
And you may have heard that being
connected all the time is bad for our sleep—too much blue light from our phones
before bed can disrupt our sleep, according to Brian Zoltowski
of Southern Methodist University, as reported by Scientific American.
And the cumulative effect of poor sleep is terrible for our health.
And according to The Social Times,
18 percent of us admit we now can’t go more than just a few hours without
checking Facebook.
When we’re separated from our
phones, “we experience a lessening of ‘self’ and a negative physiological
state,” according to Russell Clayton of the University of Missouri who
co-authored “The Extended iSelf: The Impact of iPhone
Separation on Cognition, Emotion, and Physiology” in The Journal of
Computer-Mediated Communication.
God and Facebook
As I use social media, I know that
Christians need to tread carefully here. We need to ask ourselves important
questions.
The apostle Paul once pointed out
that not everything is beneficial, even if lawful (1 Corinthians 10:23). And we
are not to be mastered by anything, even if it’s within our rights (1
Corinthians 6:12). We know we can’t serve both God and money (Matthew 6:24).
Maybe we need to start asking ourselves if we can serve both God and Facebook.
Put another way, how often is our
time on Facebook helping us to think about whatever is true, noble, right,
pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy, as we are encouraged to do
in Philippians 4:8? Or is our constant connectivity keeping us from being still
and knowing God is God, as is encouraged in Psalm 46:10?
While we generally no longer make
idols out of gold or wood, sometimes our connectivity interferes with our
communion.
Forming Better Habits
I think this impulse to start
centering our lives on our phones arises from the beauty of the device itself,
the marketing thereof, and the frequent convenience of carrying one item that
can help so much.
But at a deeper level, I do this—and
enjoy doing this—because I am made for relationships, just like everyone else.
The trick is when the tool rises above the calling.
Now, my wife and friends would not
have said I was particularly rude or “addicted” to my phone. But my tech habits
were warping my thinking a bit, routing my mind toward this tool more than was
right or healthy.
So I started looking for ways to
manage this relationship. I’ve started asking others what they do (or don’t do)
to ward off dysfunction, to keep this tool in its proper place.
Here’s what I did to fight the
spiritual consequences of my tech addiction:
Celebrate the Sabbath. This will be hard and uncomfortable at first, but an
entire day without screens is refreshing. God commanded the Israelites to rest,
showing their connection to Him. We need the same today. Put your phone on
airplane mode or leave it at home, consciously stepping away.
Plan your consumption. Smartphones are useful and always with us. But that
doesn’t mean we really need to check them 50 times a day. Constant checking
interrupts our flow, thinking, prayer, conversations and work. I consciously
connect just two to four times per day. Define how many times you’ll pull out
your device, when those times will be and how long you’ll be on. I actually set
a timer, and every time it goes off, I swipe to close Instagram
or Twitter or Facebook or Snapchat. I’m growing in
the self-discipline I should have as a follower of Christ.
Choose your channel. We have too many channels to connect—emails, texts, Snapchat, Facebook, WhatsApp,
Hangouts, Skype, Yik Yak, whatever comes out
tomorrow. I’ve found it better to just have one preferred platform (e.g. texts
or email) that important people know. Keep on top of that one through
notifications, but turn off everything else, and enjoy the calm. I’m happier
and more creative without notifications from my phone. For me, switching to a
no-contract plan where I pay for every megabyte helped with this.
Consider all those
social ties. There are
probably some people you interact with (or at least follow) on social that are
a drag on you. You may need to stay connected because they’re family, are
hurting or need Jesus. But for the many others, life is too short to spread
yourself so thin.
Watch your heart. Practice noticing how you’re thinking and feeling as
you’re connected. Maybe journal every day for a week for a few minutes after
you check social. See what kind of patterns emerge. And pray through what comes
up.