Dear Editor,

Two years ago I deleted my personal social media. I haven’t looked back since.

The immediate sense of mental stillness that followed this decision was a revelation that the sporadic low-grade anxiety operating as white noise in the background of my experiences was, in fact, an environmental toxin. That toxin amplified by aggressive/persistent use is what it means to be “chronically online”.

The crisis is no longer theoretical; it is measurable in distress and, tragically, in death. Here in Jamaica we lament the surge in suicides, a harrowing increase often concentrated among our youth. It is impossible to ignore the correlation between this outcome and the pervasive, isolating, and often hostile online environments our children inhabit. Accelerated during the COVID-19 years, social media platforms, designed for addiction, have effectively replaced childhood play with a screen-based performance.

The scholarship confirms our fears. In The Anxious Generation Jonathan Haidt argues compellingly that the sudden shift from a “play-based to a phone-based” childhood is the primary cause of the youth mental health epidemic, particularly for girls. The world of infinite comparison and curated perfection damages development.

Similarly, Sam Harris, in his clear-eyed critique ‘Log Off’ highlights the corrosive intellectual cost, noting that the platform’s primary effect is to turn us into “cogs in a machine of perpetual distraction”. This distraction, far from being benign — is an insidious mechanism of control. Commentators also highlight the intellectual regression that has occurred across the generations as a result of the dopamine-fuelled distractibility which hinders our capacity to engage in meaningful study, sustained human interaction, and thoughtful deductive analysis.

To be chronically online is to surrender one’s cognitive space to external, often malicious, forces. The political environment is polluted by algorithms that reward outrage, shallow engagement, and the rigid adherence to trendy political motifs, intentionally chosen to divide. Worse still, this informational ecosystem is manipulated by the immense wealth of non-democratic, oil-rich nations and other bad actors broadcasting disinformation that our local communities then adopt and regurgitate as genuine debate. We are not thinking; we are, instead, often unwittingly reacting to foreign-scripted chaos, incapable of the nuance required for real, constructive argument.

However, there is a brave, admirable counter-movement emerging from the very generation that grew up within this trap. Gen Z, having assessed the devastating negatives of constant online exposure, has begun to choose “dumb phones”, essential-use devices, and strategies that intentionally restrict their digital consumption. They recognise that the way forward is offline.

It is my firm belief that we must support this choice institutionally. It is time to seriously consider taking the tablets and personal devices out of our schools, returning instead to books, writing, thoughtful reflection, and genuine human debate. The goal is to rescue our people — especially our young — from manipulation and mental anguish. The solution is simple, though difficult: Get offline.

Francesca Tavares

francescatavares@yahoo.com