How digital overwhelm is sparking a collective longing for the pre-Internet age, and what the emergence of this nostalgia reveals about our relationship with technology, and sense of being.
I realised I was part of a movement when I found myself uninstalling all my social media apps and turning to journaling instead—physically writing down thoughts and daily experiences while fighting the impulse to story every moment on Instagram. Around me, my friends were doing the same thing in their own ways: one pulled out her old 24MP digital camera at an event, leaving her iPhone in her bag. Another told me about his dream of having a house with a dedicated computer room, believing that when technology wasn’t always within arm’s reach it was better.
All of this made me think: Is there a common thread running through these choices? What is it about our hyper-digital present that’s making people resist convenience?
Lately, I have noticed young people around me actively seeking a digital inconvenience. Some are choosing to reconnect with analogue hobbies like gardening or film photography, while others are limiting screen time by embracing “dumb” phones or taking regular digital detoxes, all to reclaim their sustained focus and presence.
But why is an entire generation trying to unlearn what the internet has taught them? What’s driving them to rethink digital convenience?
This rethinking has young people looking to the past for clues. Young people who have only ever known the smartphone age are becoming captivated by simple pre-internet era lifestyles without Google Maps or instant messaging. According to a 2024 Axios report, there’s mounting fascination among younger generations about how people lived before the Internet became common in the mid-1990s.
Right around the time I was questioning my relationship with social media, something telling happened: viral clips from 90s shows like Full House and The Nanny were suddenly everywhere on my social media feeds—as if their popularity in 2025 was itself a sign that people are curious in a way.
It’s not merely curiosity though– about how things used to be, but what I felt was rather a deep yearning to break free from the behaviours that internet and social media have fundamentally altered—leading young people like me to look back to the days without the Internet.
It does signal a growing counter-culture among digitally overwhelmed young people, who are actively resisting the ways the internet has reshaped our brains, and the signs of this shift are everywhere.
On platforms like Instagram, creators are flooding feeds with posts about disconnecting to reconnect, encouraging for more real life connectivity through chatting up with strangers, and encouraging consumption of media like films and books outside of social media and algorithm driven suggestions.
Research confirms this sentiment is widespread. According to a recent UK study, nearly 47% of 16-21-year-olds who were interviewed said they would prefer to have grown up without the internet. Furthermore, 50% of this group felt a social media curfew would improve their well-being. It’s safe to say these insights reflect a growing, perhaps universal, sentiment among today’s youth regarding the digital overwhelm that’s eroding their well-being, and sense of being.
There’s something fundamentally different about how our mind works when it’s tethered to infinite information, and constant connectivity. So, what are young people sensing they’ve lost?
The stories of digital overwhelm are everywhere if you look for them. I’ve felt my mind rewire itself through constant digital engagement. My attention span has shortened, and every activity needs to feel immediately rewarding. The endless information triggers a peculiar kind of anxiety that leaves me overwhelmed.
If we notice closely, social media apps are designed to make us reactive—engineered to grab our attention and train us to respond impulsively rather than thoughtfully, ultimately leaving us feeling fragmented and disconnected from ourselves.
We’ve learned to create different versions of ourselves across platforms—the professional LinkedIn self, the aesthetic Instagram self, the witty X self—without ever questioning how it makes us feel.
Psychologist Kenneth Gergen predicted this decades ago with his concept of the “saturated self”—the idea that too much information and too many connections fragment our identity. He called it “multiphrenia,” and it explains perfectly why young people today are desperately seeking the opposite: a simpler, more focused existence where attention is undivided and the self feels whole again.
So, where do we stand?
Every generation meets new technology with a mix of wonder and resistance—TV, radio, even the printing press. Nostalgia is nothing new. But this widespread pull toward a less-connected past isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s a vital signal.
Rarely have so many people, across so many places, felt such a deep sense of disconnection. Now, we are navigating AI-slop and increasingly aggressive algorithms—systems designed to capture our attention and keep us engaged. In response, something deeper is surfacing: a widespread yearning for sustained attention, authentic presence, and mental clarity.
The fact that an entire generation is instinctively seeking digital boundaries shows we’re beginning to understand what constant connectivity is costing us. Social media companies won’t tell us this—they profit from our fragmented attention.
But recognising how our thoughts have been rewired is the first step toward reclaiming our cognitive sovereignty—the ability to think, choose, focus, and exist freely, without being shaped by invisible systems.