In the spring of 2019, during a tour for my book Digital Minimalism, I visited the Manhattan production offices of Brian Koppelman to record an episode of his podcast, The Moment.
We had a robust conversation that spanned many topics. However, at around the twenty-minute mark, things intensified somewhat. Koppelman disagreed with my skepticism towards social media, perceiving it as reactionary and resisting what he deemed inevitable.
He stated:
“I was reflecting today on the horse and buggy versus cars. Right? I could have been a car minimalist and pointed out the various downsides of owning a car: you miss the scenery, we need nature, we have to appreciate it, and there’s the risk…with even a moment’s distraction, there’s a chance of crashing. To me, this argument is akin to the cars taking over, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. We should instead focus on learning how to use this technology and how to drive properly.”
Koppelman’s main point—that all significantly disruptive new technologies encounter initial resistance that eventually diminishes—is something any tech critic would recognize. It advocates for moderating resistance and concentrating on adapting to the new reality, in whatever form it takes.
This line of reasoning seems especially relevant when considering concerns about mass media. Comic books once struck fear into the hearts of the conservative adults of the time, who believed they corrupted the youth. During a 1954 Senate subcommittee hearing, prominent anti-comic advocate Fredric Wertham testified: “I firmly believe, without any reasonable doubt and without hesitation, that comic books contribute significantly to juvenile delinquency.” He later accused Wonder Woman of endorsing sadomasochism (to her credit, she was quick to use that lasso).
Television escalated similar anxieties. “As soon as we recognize that the TV cord is a vacuum line, sucking life and meaning out of our homes, we can unplug it,” proclaimed Wendell Berry in his 1981 essay collection, The Gift of the Good Land.
It’s easy to view social media content as simply the next chapter in this ongoing saga. We may be concerned about it now, but eventually, we’ll adapt before our worries shift to VR, brain implants, or whatever the next distraction is.
But is this accurate?
I want to revisit an analogy I introduced last spring, which can help us navigate this dilemma. It appeared in an essay titled “On Ultra-Processed Content,” where I compared the content created by attention economy platforms like TikTok and Instagram to factory-produced “foodlike edible substances” that we refer to as ultra-processed food.
Ultra-processed food is produced by breaking down basic food ingredients, like corn and soy, into their fundamental parts, which are then recombined to create artificial foods, such as Oreos or Doritos. These franken-snacks are highly enjoyable, leading us to consume far too much. They are packed with chemicals and artificial additives, making them more harmful to our health than most other foods.
As I suggested, we can think of the content produced by today’s attention economy apps as ultra-processed content. This digital material is created by deconstructing countless social posts and reactions into numerical vectors, which are then algorithmically processed to extract the most engaging snippets. This sets off a feedback loop, where users pursue what appears to work at increasing engagement levels, steering the system’s inputs toward progressively unnatural outcomes.
Though the end product may mimic traditional media, it’s actually a distorted reflection. Just like its ultra-processed food counterparts, this content is highly appealing, which causes us to engage with apps like TikTok or Instagram far more than we realize is beneficial or healthy, and as a result of its artificial construction, it leaves us feeling increasingly unwell (psychologically) over time.
This analogy provides a valuable distinction between social media and related media forms, such as television and comic books. In nutritional discussions, experts often differentiate ultra-processed foods from the broader category of processed foods, which includes any food that has been altered from its original form. This encompasses items like roasted nuts, bread, cheese, pasta, canned soup, and pizza.
As processed foods became more common in the twentieth century, experts cautioned against excessive consumption. A diet composed solely of processed foods isn’t healthy.
However, very few experts advocated for the complete elimination of processed foods. Such an approach would be virtually impossible, and many argue it would result in a bland and overly restrictive diet. Additionally, it would sever individuals from cultural traditions, preventing them from enjoying their grandmother’s pasta or bubbe’s kugel.
Conversely, these same experts frequently assert that when it comes to ultra-processed foods, the best course is to avoid them entirely. They pose greater risks than their less-processed counterparts and offer minimal redeeming qualities.
Thus, it’s possible that we are facing a similar divide with modern media. Engaging with Netflix, for example,
In the spring of 2019, during my book tour for Digital Minimalism, I visited the Manhattan production offices of Brian Koppelman to record ...