Why social media is bad for you
(and you should delete your accounts right now)
Hi! I’m Katie, and I’m a cultural and social psychologist—but you can think of me as your BFF with a PhD. I live in the desert of Texas alongside the cacti, roadrunners, and horned lizards. If you’re looking to understand your inner landscape and the whirlwind of the world around you, I hope you find something of value here. Make sure to subscribe—and you won’t miss a beat! Thank you so much for being here.
Two years ago, I was abruptly locked out of my personal Instagram account and given a message that I had violated terms and my account had been permanently deleted.
No specifics were provided.
I wasn’t told what term my account had purportedly violated.
I had used the account as a diary for more than 10 years up until that point, memorializing the most important moments in my life and keeping record of the thoughts and feelings I had had at each of those pivotal moments.
And, it felt like a loss of a part of my self.
I frantically attempted to reinstate my account.
However, as you may know, if you’ve used any Meta product, there is no direct “customer service” line, because as Instagram or Facebook users, we aren’t necessarily customers.
Because the experience is free, the company does not see it as a product that needs to provide a support service.
I followed the automated prompts, answering the questions proving my identity and that I truly owned the account, never receiving a reply from anyone, human or otherwise.
I reached out to every person I knew who had some connection to the company.
Family members who had worked there.
Facebook ad managers who had supported me when I had run my own online business.
But, it was all for not.
My last living and breathing presence on any social media outlet was gone.
10 years of memories.
10 years of diary excerpts.
10 years of writing.
Until then, I had already almost all but given up Facebook.
I only used Twitter to read the latest Taylor Swift updates.
I had no TikTok.
And, the days of social sharing on Tumblr had crumbled to bits.
Instagram was my last man standing in the social media world.
And, I had been quite attached to it.
Friends and family referred to my “social media hiatus”.
I explained to them that it was somewhat of a forced exit.
However, I never created a new account.
I saw it as an opportunity, sad as it was, to let go of social media fully in my life.
Two years and some months later, and I’ve never looked back.
I still don’t use social media for any personal sharing.
I don’t know what my cousin, twelve-times-removed, or my distant friend from college is having for dinner.
I don’t see the snapshots of intimate moments from my old high school friend’s holiday.
I don’t capture the moments of my life in 280 characters and a 30-second reel.
And, I’m all the better for it.
Does my dopamine-starving brain sometimes miss the hits of 300 likes on an Instagram post?
Sure.
Does my masochistic devil-on-my-shoulder yearn for the Instagram social comparison game?
At times.
But, all in all, giving up social media has been for the better in my life.
We’ve known for over a decade now that social media is bad for us.
It’s been well-documented.
Things like cyberbullying, sleep disruption, anxiety, and even the spread of misinformation.
But, it’s almost like knowing that a habit of sugar consumption or the tiny little cigarette you sneak in on your lunch break will be the impetus of our ultimate demise.
We know its costs.
Yet, we do it anyway.
Why, I ask?
And, when will we choose to stop?
SOCIAL COMPARISON IS THE ENEMY
My colleague and friend, Mai-Ly Nguyen Steers, PhD, has studied the negative effects of social media on our psyches and our souls.
Steers, an applied social psychologist and assistant professor, has documented the maladaptive effects of social media and specifically social comparison.
In the 1950s, social psychologist Leon Festinger first outlined the concept of social comparison—noting how we as humans use it and abuse it in our day-to-day lives.1
His social comparison theory argues that humans tend to compare themselves to others when it comes to characteristics of their lives that they deem important.
For example, if it’s important to me to enjoy adventurous and exciting holidays, then I might compare how my latest holiday sized up to my Facebook friends’ posts about her own.
Comparing how we measure up to others reveals to us how well we are doing in these personally-important areas of our lives, according to Festinger.
Festinger was onto something in 1950.
But, if you take the time to look for less than half of a second, it’s not hard to see how social comparison is on Steroids in 2024 compared to 1950.
Hundreds of comparison points lie at our fingertips with every new login to Instagram, Facebook, or TikTok.
With each tap on the app, we are bombarded with showy photos of Siobhan’s summer holiday in the Lakes District.
Reels showcasing Catriona’s fun night out at the Eras Tour Liverpool N1.
Or TikTok stories from Francesca showing every inch of her new luxury flat in Edinburgh.
It’s no wonder why you often find yourself logging out of social media with that pit in your stomach.
And, as you may have guessed by now—yes, there is psychology behind it.
Take one of Steer’s research studies that confirms this.
Over 14 days, Facebook users reported their daily Facebook use, the social comparisons they engaged in while using the app, and depressive symptoms.
Steers and her colleagues found that the more time people spent on Facebook, the more depressed they felt.
Why did they feel more depressed?
These depressed feelings could be directly connected to how much they were comparing themselves to their Facebook counterparts.2
We all know that people like to put their best foot forward on social media.
Sure, there are the accounts who attempt to document “real life” and apps like “BeReal” encouraging you to photograph random moments of your day.
But, for the most part, when you log into social media, you’re seeing Eilidh’s highlight reel.
(Interesting that Instagram has named their new short video feature “Reels”, isn’t it?)
Arguably, very few average lives are made up of jet-setting to 17 Eras Tour shows across Europe or whipping up 3 gourmet meals per day of vegan cuisine in a professionally-appointed kitchen.
But, that’s the narrative that’s being set when we doomscroll for four hours on Instagram or Foodie TikTok.
On the contrary—when we head to the local grocery or co-op, we’re instead met with real-life people journeying through their real-life day-to-day tasks.
A 50-something woman choosing the perfect package of sprouts from the produce section.
Or a construction worker in his 40s popping in for a snack of Pringles and soda.
A young family juggling 2 small children while attempting to plan a nutritious yet kid-approved evening dinner.
When we take a walk down the sidewalk in our own neighborhood, we’re met with real-life neighbors with real-life goals of simply getting outside, moving their bodies, and taking in some Vitamin D.
Sure—IRL (in real life), we might meet up with our girls at the corner café to catch up on the goings-on of everyone’s life.
And, you may find yourself engaging in some thick social comparison during that conversation.
Sharon’s describing her new hunky boyfriend.
Or Kelly’s retelling of her front-row tickets to Niall Horan.
But, not in the same depth or frequency as provided by a single tap of that colorful icon staring you down from your iPhone home screen.
And, when seeing that person passing you on the street or the kind checkout lady at the grocer, the focus is on connection and not comparison.
You see, social media provides a thin layer of anonymity.
It’s almost voyeurism really.
It gives our psyches that hall pass to analyze, scrutinize, and compare—instead of finding those data points where we are similar, where we connect, and where our beings overlap.
There’s no one there to shake us out of our misery.
Or tell us to stop.
It’s just an open road for our brains to find the spaces and places where we’re not measuring up.
Funny enough, usually what that experience inspires in us is not to go out and find the life we long for and live it to the fullest and with authenticity.
Instead, it causes us to curl up, turn within, and sometimes even give up on building beautiful lives.
And, we just continue scrolling.
Staring into the tiny box in our hands while the seconds of our lives tick away.
What if you were to set the phone down, log off the computer, and begin to notice the beautiful highlight reels of your own life?
Not to document them for your 1287 “friends” on Facebook to see.
But, instead to appreciate them.
You see, it’s a well-known fact in psychology literature that our brains love to hang onto the negative—whilst also conveniently overlooking the positive.
It’s a defense mechanism really.
A means of effort to keep us alive.
If our brains stay attuned to the negative dangers that lurk in every corner, we will be prepared and ready to avoid them.
That’s the brain’s job, after all.
Keep us alive.
Negative feelings, experiences, and aspects of our lives are like Velcro to our brains.
The positive is like Teflon, quickly slipping away and disappearing out of our long-term memory stores.
AN INVITATION TO DO IT DIFFERENTLY
So, what if instead of obsessing over 15-second sound bytes that fly by and leave us feeling wretched, we fixated on the tiny, beautiful data points of our own lives?
What if we savoured them?
What if we rewired our brains not to find the negative but to become aware of the good in our lives?
Not to socially compare with every influencer in Instagram land but took the time to open our eyes and notice the extraordinary in our own day-to-day?
“Sounds great…but how?!” you say.
Try the following meditation.
*The following is a guided meditation created exclusively for paid members. If you’d like to gain access to hands-on activities and exercises that accompany psychologie articles, please consider being a paid subscriber. Thank you!