I’m overwhelmed, and it’s making me cynical.

The voices are so loud. I can’t remember which thing I’m stressed about.

I’m not sure we can boil down postmodern cynicism and malaise to just one factor. I wouldn’t dream of trying, but what political scientists call “The Firehose of Falsehood” is not helping.

Two main things characterize the firehose of falsehood:

1. high numbers of messages being pushed out and channels to communicate them

2. a willingness to disseminate partial truths or outright lies.

The firehose relies on overwhelming us and confusing us. One researcher writes we “retreat into cynicism and the belief that the truth is fundamentally unknowable.” Ezra Klein has a great video pointing out how this strategy is playing out in the current administration.

But in some ways, Trump’s intentional use of the firehose of falsehood is almost indistinguishable from the usual screaming confusion of the digital landscape.

I don’t need to tell you how it works. Between the more innocuous #content, the dog videos, engagement pictures, and hiking pics, there is also THE END OF DEMOCRACY, HOW TO KNOW YOU’RE IN A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP, DON’T EAT THIS OR YOU’LL DIE #content.

And the second type, the urgent scary content, has money behind it. It’s produced in studios to capture our attention, and I at least find it irresistible. Intentionally, I didn’t download TikTok back in 2020 because I know myself and just like how I couldn’t eat only one cookie, I probably couldn’t watch just one video. That turned out to be true. Because now every app on my phone is basically TikTok and the only way to stop my scrolling is to delete them.

It makes me sad because Instagram used to be a place where I kept up with friends and family. Now I can’t use it for that purpose alone without a Herculean amount of resolve that I simply don’t possess. Our digital landscape was created to be a firehose, to keep us trapped, angry, isolated, and cynical.

I’m trapped in the firehose right now and it sucks.

I don’t want to be cynical. I don’t want to be numb and overwhelmed and vaguely scared about a million things I already forgot about. It feels terrible, and it’s becoming clearer and clearer that the answer to this problem isn’t to keep feeling bad and keep whining.

I think maybe that cynicism from the firehose has made me believe it’s not actually better on the other side of this, that the effort and alienation involved in being less chronically online won’t be worth it. But reflecting on the firehose makes me think, there’s probably more for me beyond the screen. I have been happy and full of belief, and it was almost never when I was staring into the bright light of my phone.

So, this week I’m detoxing. I’m going to try to live outside of the firehose, at least for the most part. Wish me luck.