Lamenting 2024, and a NY Resolution

This has been a challenging year for me. On a national scale, I am struck by rampant inequity, injustice, bigotry, and lies. I mourn what we have lost or are losing: trust in journalism and government, respect for academia and science, protections for women’s and minority rights, and appreciation for diversity and culture. Many of us hunger for basic resources and housing, and yet we are deceived into electing a regressive administration that will further expand the wealth gap. Perhaps it’s just rose-colored glasses, but if I compare the world to the optimism I felt growing up in the 90s and 00s, things seem… bad.

How do we move forward? What individual actions can we take to push society in the right directions? These are tough questions, and I find myself skeptical that individuals can have a meaningful effect on entrenched societal trends. Politics seem increasingly futile: does writing to senators, going to rallies, or political organizing really accomplish anything? When billions of dollars, advanced technology, and foreign intelligence are deployed to corrupt the ways we communicate and perceive the world, how are we to discern truth from lies and defend our future? Perhaps the easiest way to cope is to assume that it’s someone else’s problem: maybe influential politicians, public figures, or techno-entrepreneurs will come to our rescue. In the early 2010s, we might have looked to Elon Musk.

The first step of treating any disease is to correctly diagnose it: what’s the root of what is wrong with the world? Is massive inequality merely the inevitable outcome of late-stage capitalism? Are ad dollars, short-form media, and for-profit news melting our brains? Are echo chambers and social media to blame for political polarization and misinformation? I’m no sociologist, and I don’t have the answers yet (please share them if you do). I do have some ideas for small steps in (what I think is) the right direction.

I grew up in Lake Arrowhead, a small rural town in the mountains of California. My mom always kept a large pot of soup simmering on the stove, and to this day friends and neighbors regularly drop by to catch up over a quick meal or cup of coffee. As an adult, I appreciate this practice as an anchor of community: hosting at home as a type of “third place”.

Another third place was church: we’d go on Sunday for service and Wednesday for bible study, ensuring that we’d regularly see many of the same people and maintain relationships. As a now non-religious city dweller, I’m less plugged into local community than my family was growing up. Part of that’s a me problem (I should make an effort to be more social!), but this is also reflective of a broader societal trend: we socialize less than we used to. This trend has been studied by sociologists such as Ray Oldenburg and Robert Putnam, and has been theorized to contribute to the loneliness epidemic, mental illness, political polarization, radicalization, and even climate change.

What have we filled our time with instead? One contributor is anti-social technology. Since 2010, we’ve added an average of 3 hours of smartphone use per day. It’s reported that Gen Z spends over 6 hours on a smartphone each day, and 56% feel “addicted”. As someone who had a hand in building one of the most popular apps (Snapchat), I can’t help but feel some personal responsibility here.

Some of that phone use is a result of socialization moving to virtual spaces (texting or video calling as a proxy for hanging out in person), but I assume that on aggregate, time would be better spent in meat space. When I put on my product design hat, I perceive certain patterns in apps like TikTok, Facebook, and Instagram to be fundamentally anti-social. As a recent example, the push for AI companionship is deeply troubling to me. To state the obvious: we need to be spending less time on influencers and bots, and more building real relationships with humans. As generative AI continues to develop, I expect that digital spaces will become less and less amenable to human relationships (see Dead Internet Theory). Therefore, one of my commitments to 2025 is studying and working to encourage stronger in-person communities.

I’m not sure the best way to approach this yet. As an introvert and self-proclaimed weirdo, this doesn’t come naturally. I’m going to start with the obvious things (host more people at home, make more effort to reach out to friends, practice conversation, read and discuss more sociology). I’ll do my best to share what I learn. Ambitiously, I dream of eventually developing better and more intentional third places (climbing gyms, bars, arcades, escape rooms, maker spaces, cafes, libraries…). I’d like your help if you’re up for it: put down your phone. Come hang with us.