Social Solutions for Social Media

We’re tired of rotting, but deleting is hard. Community makes it better.

Social media has created a social problem.

Sitting down for dinner a few days ago, my girlfriend I were saddened as we watched the tables around us consumed not by lively conversation, but by the lives they lived digitally. Like Samin mentioned in last week’s Substack, our screens have turned our perspectives to regard each spare moment between activities (or, in the case of dinner, during activities), into a perpetual state of waiting. 

Even when I had social media, I recall having this sensation. It was as if with each scroll I was waiting, anticipating, and expecting something better…that never came. This, I believe, is what it feels like to be addicted. To be so hooked on the dopamine-infused sensation of the first scroll that every subsequent scroll – and every interaction for that matter, IRL or otherwise – feels like an unending wait for something exciting to appear on my feed – an endless treasure hunt for the next dopamine-triggering video, or like, or follow. 

Obviously, this experience is not fun. During social media consumption, not only did I feel like I was waiting for something the whole time, but when I had finally snapped from my trance and put down my phone, I always thought to myself… “man, I wish I didn’t do that.” 

I think this is not an uncommon experience. At least anecdotally, I’ve heard many of my friends lament how they’ve spent too much time “rotting” in bed. Heck, even our jargon for describing the topic is pessimistic. Brainrot. Doomscroll. I feel like we, as a social-media-corrupted society, have identified that social media is bad for us. We all know it. 

So why don’t we get off of it?

This is a question I have been struggling to answer for a few months, really since the inception of Reconnect Stanford. What keeps us scrolling through, commenting on, and liking posts? 

I think a few hints of the answer come when I ask people why they don’t delete social media:

“I want to stay in touch with my friends”

“I need to see what everyone else is up to”

“I have to be able to respond when people reach out to me”

And the list goes on…

Initially, I thought all of these answers were lame excuses for not acting on self improvement goals. “You’ll live without it,” I thought.

But after deeper reflection, I think I was a bit naive in my judgement. In reality these answers get at an interesting truth: it turns out, social media has redefined social interaction in a way that has fallen out of our control.

Social Media has redefined what it means to be social.

For starters, think about the scope of the people we interact with daily. Not only do we interact with the people we see everyday, meet for the first time, and pass by unknowingly in the real world; there is also now a virtual world where we digitally interface with thousands of followers and those we follow. 

Moreover, plans in the real world are governed by steps taken virtually. Parties are often advertised on Instagram and Snapchat stories. Group hangouts, going out plans, and even study sessions are communicated through DMs. Even shooting your shot to your crush or the Tinder profile that has come across your feed has almost completely replaced asking someone out in real life. 

Now, it matters to us where our elementary school acquaintances are traveling for spring break, and we stay in touch with close friends with inside jokes in the comment section, not on phone calls. 

I could go on about how social media has redefined being social, but I think you get the idea. Fundamentally, we have revised the social contract of our generation to mandate and expect online interactions, leaving those who live offline outside the fabric of our society. 

And this experience is lonely. 

I remember it vividly in the first months after deleting my social media. Snapchat streaks with my frat gone in an instant. DMs from my Instagram erased. Slides of my carefully curated photos banished. A digital life ended. 

What was even weirder was how deleting changed my in-person interactions. Taking myself off of Snapchat, I no longer received group chats’ plans to party, study, or hangout. I felt isolated and out of the loop. Even just hanging out with my friends, I felt like I was missing out when everyone collectively decided to pull out their phones, and I was left to either stare at the wall or review the weather app for a third time. 

In my opinion, that’s why quitting is hard. By stepping out of social media, we take a step to remove ourselves from that social connection that is now integral to our lives. And, as a result, quitting is lonely, and no one wants to be alone.  

So, how do we delete without feeling alone? 

I think this answer is simple: find someone to delete with. 

For me, that was my girlfriend. After deleting social media, she was the one who held me accountable. Deleting together, we went through the same experiences missing group chat messages or awkward moments when all of our friends chose to pull out their phones. Doing it with her, I didn’t feel so lonely; I had someone with whom I could have a shared experience; and she kept me accountable. 

This last part is the most important I think. Waking up for 6am basketball practices in high school would have been really easy to skip if it was just me getting shots up. It’s a lot harder to skip when your whole team is waking up for practice too, and you’re the only one who slept in. Trust me, you would run suicides until you puked—at least, that’s what I had to do. 

Ultimately, quitting social media with someone else gives you company, and with them you create a new social contract constructed on the premise of not having social media. In doing so, I have felt a responsibility to not have social media, similar to how my friends profess to me that they must keep social media to keep in touch with their friends. 

That, in my opinion, is what Reconnect Stanford is. 

On the surface, it’s a bunch of awesome kids who encourage students to rid themselves of the scroll. Underneath however, Reconnect is a social contract to abstain from social media and an armor to combat loneliness in the process. 

As a Vanderbilt student, I have had the pleasure of watching Reconnect Stanford’s growth from its inception. Living in Palo Alto for the summer, I was there for that fateful day when we all pulled out our laptops and built the first version of Reconnect’s website. Since then, it has been so inspiring to see all that Reconnect has done—to see all that community can be. 

Ours’ is the first generation that has no memory of a time without phones. We are the first generation to grow up with little computers in our pockets whose games could substitute for conversation on bus rides to and from school. We are the first generation to begin posting for people’s birthdays and be manic about keeping up Snapchat streaks and follower counts. 

Reconnect, in contrast, strives to relive the era where emerging adults didn’t feel that pressure. Where the weight of the constant rotting and doomscrolling did not exist. 

Last night, I did a Reconnect exercise with my family. 

Sitting down in the restaurant, we—like usual—started talking, but when a lull in conversation appeared, we pulled out our phones. Calling attention to this reflex, I suggested that we all stack our phones on the table next to us. 

What ensued was the most enjoyable hour of family time I’ve had in a long time. Without our phones, we were forced to interact without barriers. We came up with new jokes and laughed so hard our eyes welled up. 

In that moment, we were doing the opposite of rotting. We identified the issue that screens had posed to our ability to connect, and we acted on it by making a pact, as a family, to set aside our screens for just a moment. By avoiding screens together, not one of us felt lonely or that we were missing out—all that we needed to worry about was right there in front of us. And, as a result of putting away our screens, we incited a powerful family memory reminiscent of our ability to connect before Facebook invented the like button. In essence, we reverted back to a different time, when our screens weren’t our main priority. We reconnected. 

Social media is a social problem. Whether through Reconnect or with my own family, I’ve found that the best way to solve it is through a social solution.

So delete – but delete together.

Founded in 2025, Reconnect Stanford is a Stanford student-led movement & non-profit dedicated to helping people step away from addictive platforms and toward meaningful connection, time, and attention. We build community around social media sobriety through stories, support for students who delete, peer-to-peer mentorship with middle and high schoolers, and events where peers disconnect together.

To learn more and support our cause, visit reconnectstanford.org. To submit a guest piece, email reconnectstanford@gmail.com

About the author: Raised in Austin, Texas, Will Burkhart is a second-year honors math student at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. He deleted his social media accounts in 2025.