Is being offline a privilege?

Plenty of us want to check out from the algorithm. But is this a luxury few can afford? 

I told myself this would be the year I get rid of social media for good. It started with a phone detox – my addiction had reached its peak when I found it difficult to sit through an episode of great TV without glancing at the screen in my hand. I hit rock bottom when I woke in the night and my thumb was scrolling a phantom phone. It had gone too far and I was sick of it.

Since January I’ve successfully withdrawn, replacing social media with books and films that feed my brain. I’ve already steamrolled through over 20 books in 2026, finally finished Twin Peaks after several attempts to start, and ticked off a healthy chunk of my Letterboxed list.

To some extent, spending less time on Instagram and TikTok has already rewired my brain. Opening the latter feels like a sensory overload so intense I usually close it within minutes. And without the predatory algorithm of Instagram, I’ve felt my mood lift substantially.

I’m comparing myself less, making fewer unnecessary purchases, and generally building a healthier relationship to my body. And yet despite the mounting evidence that it would significantly improve my life, I still can’t divorce myself from these apps completely.

When I try to pinpoint why, I tell myself it’s because I enjoy posting stories and seeing what my friends are up to. I worry I’d be out of the loop with cultural and world news, or that I’d get left behind when it comes to trends. But if I’m being completely honest? I don’t use social media for any of these things.

Despite my best intentions, a five-minute scroll for life updates quickly turns into a hours-long descent into useless slop. AI-generated horoscopes, fake news about celebrities I’ve never heard of, and toxic ‘what I eat in a day’ videos from women with washboard abs and an eating disorder.

I’m also increasingly conscious that for every minute I spend on social media, it’s taking something from my life and adding to someone else’s. I’m literally funding Mark Zuckerberg’s lifestyle while any free time I might spend learning a new skill or growing as an individual is spent staring at skincare routine in a glazed-over trance.

But is there a nugget of truth to my excuses? Would cutting out social media and going offline really shut me out from the world, in a way that most of us – particularly in the creative industries – can’t afford?

I’m a writer, after all. And while it’s all well and good to say ‘just watch the news!’ for my world updates, we live in an online era. The zeitgeist has made house in the hallways of social media and it’s not shifting any time soon.