Permission to mute

I’ve always been curious, inspired, and just a tad jealous when people choose to cancel a social media platform entirely. And not merely because it’s the contrarian thing to do. But because—given the opportunity cost of all that connection, all those nodes, and that noise—it seems like a detriment.

Except when it’s not.

Because in most cases (far more than most), these platforms don’t make us better humans (or more productive ones). Instead, they tap into our psyches (and sometimes our souls) and take our time and attention away. They use us and abuse us. And they often make us more jealous, resentful, possessive, or afraid.

They certainly don’t make us feel better. Or more contented. Or more informed. And they never compete with the real thing (real friends, real connections, real people). Not even close.

So, why do we continue to use them? Why do we continue to care?

Because the power of the network is powerful indeed. Jumping the digital ship makes invisible waves—sending a message that goes to just about everyone you know and hold dearest. It’s all too easy to think it will sabotage your future, your reputation, your connections, and your friendships.

And, for some people, it surely will.

But that doesn’t mean it’s a choice not worth making. Because this ship may not be the one you’d best be on.

Indeed, we all have a choice to make: do we stand by and consume it (and in so doing, let it consume us)? Or do we let it go? Making the best of a social life without a network, without the platforms, without the shackles and vices of the mob.

It stands to reason that if an app, media platform, or device of any kind isn't serving you, it's up to you to do something about it.

Because you have permission. Permission to drop it, to mute it, to turn it off for good. You always have.