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I Don’t Really Care (Or Maybe I Care Too Much)

Photo by Pixabay VIA PEXELS

Every day before school, I embark on a thrilling journey to observe the outside world: AKA, I scroll through Instagram stories. Even though the content changes daily, I still see the same things. A coworker posted a photo collage of her weekend. A classmate shared a picture of their boba set to trending music. A neighbor wishes his mom a happy birthday. A friend tells me the world is burning and on the brink of war. I never blink twice.

When I view my feed, I’m generally welcomed with a delightful array of poetry, memes and Taylor Swift fan theories. But occasionally, I see something different. The lighthearted content is replaced with shocking, sickening disasters. A kid went missing yesterday. Another dozen were injured in a shooting. We’re on the brink of war. We’re on the brink of war with a different country. That country is on the brink of war with another country. Or is it? No, it definitely is. Our planet is on fire. Our planet is freezing. Our planet is drowning, sinking under the cold, cruel, unforgiving waves. Look at these failing crops, this bloody animal, this starving human, this dying planet. Look at it, and then look at that, then this, then all of that, then some more of this. Then log off and look at TikTok instead. Information overload — that’s enough social media for today. 

I’m not clueless, nor am I unaware of how inherently privileged that reaction is. These tragedies affect real people — people who can’t afford to respond as I do. But it’s not as though I’ve suddenly become apathetic — we reached this point together. In Paul F. Lazarsfeld and Robert K. Merton’s “Mass Communication, Popular Taste and Organized Social Action,” they coined the term “the narcotizing dysfunction.” The narcotizing dysfunction explains that an overwhelming amount of information reduces concern for the issues, making us think that because we know about something, we’re automatically affecting it. Too many people exclusively get information from social media, so in the era of fake news, clickbait and “share if you’re against (insert obviously bad thing here)” posts, our brains have developed a not-my-problem mentality. We’ve seen so much “virtual” violence that it narcotized us. Yes, it may be a bizarre defense mechanism, but it’s also passive, entitled and inherently unfair. 

There’s only one solution for escaping desensitization: we need to disengage. Social media should not be our primary connection to real-life issues. All that exposure does is inspire “activists” to post black screens and switch their profile pictures to the Ukrainian flag, thinking they’re changing the world with their compassion. We need to slow down our intake to properly process content. Researching issues instead of trusting aesthetic Canva infographics may be more work, but it’ll make us educated people. It’s not easy; social media and similar outlets are designed to get us hooked. They don’t want us to pull back, think critically and reduce our intake. Instead, platforms purposely use vibrant colors and countless notifications to keep us coming back. They feed off of our innate desire to do good; we think it’s our responsibility to repost so we can show everyone what great people we are. We should innately know when to log off, but the internet furiously attempts to make us think twice. If more social media sites limited scrolling time, incorporated breaks in content or redesigned their addictive atmospheres, then maybe we’d be less passive in our thoughts. But what corporation would choose mental wellbeing over money? As of now, we’ll have to set those limits ourselves. 

There is a near overwhelming wave of negativity and violence in the world — but we don’t have to drown within the depths of apathy. I want to care again, to see tragedy and scream into my pillow, to raise money instead of sharing “repost and we’ll donate a dollar” posts. I want to spread awareness without using unreliable content designed to catch my attention on apps that refuse to let that attention go. I’m tired of the graphic violence and vibrant graphics. Social media needs to loosen its grip, news outlets need to provide unbiased information and we need to teach ourselves how to care again. Our empathy should not be so overwhelmed that it no longer responds when needed.