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How to prevent doomscrolling from controlling you

How to prevent doomscrolling from controlling you

Yahoo31-03-2025

Kara Alaimo is an associate professor of communication at Fairleigh Dickinson University. Her book 'Over the Influence: Why Social Media Is Toxic for Women and Girls — And How We Can Take It Back' was published in 2024 by Alcove Press. Follow her on Instagram, Facebook and Bluesky.
What do modern social media users have in common with American soldiers who decided not to return to the United States after being held as prisoners of war in North Korea? More than you might think, according to one professor.
We're all potential victims of mind control, according to Rebecca Lemov, a historian of science at Harvard University and author of the new book 'The Instability of Truth: Brainwashing, Mind Control, and Hyper-Persuasion.'
The American soldiers were brainwashed into not wanting to go home through tactics including isolation, the fraying of social bonds and sleep deprivation, Lemov said. And she argues that the same things happen to many users of social apps, and it's awful for their mental health.
After decades of studying brainwashing in situations including POWs, cults and torture, she's concluded that 'this is something to which we're all susceptible, and that we consistently underestimate our malleability.'
But while social networks may manipulate our emotions, we can take steps to protect ourselves by drawing on lessons from her research.
Social media affects users differently, Lemov noted, comparing it to some people's experiences in cults.
'What's a cult for one person may not necessarily have the same effect on someone else,' she noted. When one person who is recruited decides to go all in, another 'may get certain things out of it, but not decide to give over their life savings or things like that.'
She said social media is the same way. It affects different people differently, perhaps partly because of past experiences. That's why, when we consume content online, it's wise to pay attention to how we're feeling.
'Social media really puts you in your head a lot,' she said. 'It's almost as if you're an entity without a body.'
What to do about it: Lemov pays attention to her own reactions by meditating every day, which gives her a way to tune in to sensations in her body and how they change. If a particular type of content leaves someone feeling anxious or upset, that's a helpful signal to consume less of it and even block those who create that kind of online work.
It's not just how different kinds of social media influence our emotions. Lemov said social networks may actively manipulate us.
In 2014, Facebook revealed it had conducted an experiment without users' knowledge showing it could influence their moods. The platform showed some users more positive content and others more negative content, then examined the emotions those users conveyed in their later posts. Those shown more positive posts seemed happier, and those who saw more negative posts seemed less happy.
'It was almost like a proud announcement (by Facebook executives that they) have the capability to … tune emotions as if we had a volume control,' Lemov said, noting that the social network received a lot of backlash after its announcement.
Spending time on social media can isolate people, and unlike with prisoners of war, it's ostensibly by choice.
'The more time is spent on social media, the less time is spent in social groups,' Lemov said, referring to clubs and bowling leagues that were more popular in the past. As a result, she said, people can miss out on developing social skills.
Lemov said she thinks that spending more time on social media can explain why so many people are lonely. It's a Catch-22 situation: People who are lonely tend to use social networks more, according to a 2016 study. And the continued use of social media could make them lonelier.
Being lonely is terrible for a person's mental health. One study conducted during Covid-19 lockdowns found loneliness was heavily associated with greater depression and thoughts of suicide.
What to do about it: To combat what former US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy called an epidemic of loneliness, Lemov recommended challenging yourself to join groups that meet offline to socialize, whether it's a book club, a walking group, card game night, ultimate frisbee (or name your fun activity here).
It doesn't even have to be that organized all the time. I like to remind my students that they can put their phones away and talk to the people next to them on the bus, at lunch and at social events. Then they'll have an opportunity to strike up conversations and sometimes true friendships.
People who use social media more might also miss out on sleep — another thing that is essential to our mental health. Research has found that young people who use social media more tend to go to sleep later. Using smartphones in the middle of the night can also interfere with sleep.
Not getting enough sleep is terrible for mental and physical health. Studies have found that sleep deprivation is associated with much higher anxiety and depression.
What to do about it: Lemov recommended social media users work on what's called good sleep hygiene. I recommend my students leave phones outside their bedrooms when they go to bed for the night. Then it's easier to fight the temptation to stay up scrolling after bedtime or check the phone when waking up in the middle of the night, because the device isn't within arm's reach.
Using social apps more can mean we spend less time socializing in real life and sleeping — both essential to our mental health. By making sure we realize how social media use affects us, spending time socializing offline and getting enough sleep, we can stay in control of our lives rather than letting social networks control us.

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Don't buy fancy butter to make great pie. Here's why
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Don't buy fancy butter to make great pie. Here's why

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What Are Emoji?
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In the arenas of ancient Rome, the thumbs-up was a matter of life and death. So scholars have extrapolated from the elusive history of ancient gestures. The fates of defeated gladiators were determined by an emperor or another official, who might heed the wishes of the crowd: Thumbs hidden within closed fists were votes for mercy; thumbs-ups were votes for death. Today, the 👍, now flipped into a gesture of approval, is a tool of vague efficiency. Deployed as an emoji—as a hand summoned from a keyboard, suspended between literalism and language—it says 'okay' and declines to say more. But lately the crowds of the internet have found new ways to channel the old dramas. On the matter of the 👍, the arbiters of our own arena—internet-savvy young adults—have rendered their verdict: The 👍 is no longer definitive. It is no longer, for that matter, necessarily positive. 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Exploding in popularity as digital chatting caught on—an ascent that accelerated when Apple, Google, and their fellow behemoths became emoji adopters—the pictograms acknowledged no national boundaries. In 2011, a year after emoji officially came under the supervision of a nonprofit called the Unicode Consortium, Apple introduced an emoji keyboard to its U.S.-marketed iPhones, bringing hearts and party poppers and sun-yellow faces to text messages throughout the land. The website Emojipedia, aiming to provide an exhaustive catalog of emoji, arrived in 2013. In 2014, a campaign got under way on the digital-petition site 'The Taco Emoji Needs to Happen,' it announced. The petition received more than 30,000 signatures, and the 🌮 was born. Taco Bell had been the catalyst. Two years later, an article titled 'A Beginner's Guide to Sexting' outed another 🌮 meaning, one its corporate sponsor likely never anticipated (vagina). Emoji, the not-quite-a-language language, were becoming part of the world's linguistic—and commercial—infrastructure, importing some of the unruliness of IRL interaction into virtual spaces. People used emoji to accentuate (👏🎉😂). They used emoji to hedge (😑🤔🌤️). They used emoji to joke (😜). They used emoji to flirt (😍😉). Emoji were pictures that could extend people's voices, visual icons that could help convey intended tone. They said nothing precisely, and that allowed them to express a lot: enthusiasm, sarcasm, anger, humor. They followed the same broad arc that the internet did; having originated as quirky novelties, they were becoming utilities. By the mid-2010s, the 'staid old Unicode,' as Houston comes to call the Consortium, had discovered the headaches accompanying 'emoji fever.' The organization, launched in 1991, was composed of a rotating group of engineers, linguists, and typographers charged with establishing coding consistency across the internet's static characters (letters, numbers, and the like); its goal was to enable global communication among disparate computers. Now it found itself overseeing dynamic characters as the public clamor for more emoji mounted. The Consortium was the gateway to new emoji: It invited the public to suggest additional icons. But its technologists were gatekeepers, too. They reviewed the applications, assessing the level of demand. They were the ones who decided which images to add—and which to deny. (Durex's campaign for a condom emoji fell short.) The annual unveiling of their decisions became, in some quarters (🤓), a much-anticipated event. Each new 'emoji season' brought fresh collections of icons to users' devices. But each also stirred reminders of the icons that weren't there. Faced with feedback from users frustrated by icon selection that could seem capricious and unfair, the arbiters did their best, Houston suggests, to gauge popular support for new candidates. But lapses in the lexicon were obvious, as a mere sampling reveals. Early on, 'professions' were depicted as masculine by default. 'Couple' was a man and a woman. The woman's shoe was a ruby-red heel. Representations of food reflected the pictograms' Japanese origins and U.S. tech dominance, but not their worldwide story. In the quest for more choices—and in response to users' campaigns—the Consortium added, among many other emoji, an array of food items. (They were not always culturally authentic: In an attempted nod to China's culinary traditions, a takeout box joined the lexicon.) In 2015, the group introduced five 'realistic' skin-tone options for humanlike emoji figures. The update brought unintended consequences. Lined up next to other hues, the sunny yellow originally meant to scan as race-neutral (in the lineage of the classic smiley face, Lego mini-figures, and the Simpsons) now read, to some, as racist. Light skin tones, intended to reflect users' skin color, evoked, Houston notes, a similar reaction: Some saw the choice of those light-hued symbols as a 'white power' gesture. Complexity, when emoji are involved, will always find its way back. The Consortium's Emoji Subcommittee—a 'crack team of emoji wranglers,' in Houston's words—had its hands full. Gender updating in particular proved challenging. Early Unicode guidance on depicting emoji people had emphasized, but not required, striving for gender neutrality. To move beyond stereotypes, should equity or androgyny lead the way? Same-sex couples and same-sex parents were soon included. 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Emoji float, merrily (mostly), over the barriers. And their ambiguity is essential to their buoyancy. Emoji, as images, can never be tethered to one meaning. Even if 'emoji season' ceases to yield new crops, the icons that exist will keep evolving. They will keep challenging us to evolve with them. The namesake of Houston's book, the 'face with tears of joy,' has long been the world's most popular emoji. It has also been, according to recent reports, the subject of another Gen Z pronouncement: The 😂 is cringe. What it communicates, above all, is the hopeless unhipness of its sender. I use it anyway, mostly out of habit but also because, to me, joyful beats cool every time. And my 😂 are in good company. Each day, around the planet, billions of 😂 ping across screens. Their usage might decline in the future. Their primary meaning might change. For now, though, they are what we have. For now, because of them, we can laugh together across the distance.

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