How to stop doomscrolling when there is so much doom
+ the Regulatory Standards Bill which I know sounds boring but ugh
Like 80% of the people I know, I want to stop doomscrolling. Like 70% of those 80% (just guessing here) I’ve been entirely unsuccessful in quitting my addiction. I asked my good mate Josh Drummond to help me and us - by giving his hot take on ending our doomscrolling since it has been his goal too.
You might say resolutions are for chumps and hey you might be right. But, if you’re a ritual kind of person like me - they aren’t totally useless. With Matariki just around the corner, I’m trying to commit again to ending my doomscrolling. I hope this post is helpful if it’s something you want to do as well. And I’d love to hear your tips as well. Over to Josh!
Oh and - there’s a submission guide for the RSB at the bottom of this email!
If your New Year's Resolution this year was to "stop doomscrolling", chances are you've already failed – spectacularly.
Here's why.
There is so much doom. The genocide(s). The climate crisis. The nightmare of US politics. The Temu-equivalent nightmare in NZ politics. You don't need me to go on, you know all this already.
It is so easy to scroll. With all of the above going on - and without even touching on trolling and grifters and AI slop and everything else - we are well aware that opening the wrong social media feed instantly incurs 10d8 psychic damage. We know this, and yet we scroll anyway.
Before we go on I want to talk about how doomscrolling isn't a moral panic. Well, it is a moral panic, but there's more to it than that.
Every new form of media in history has come with a side order of naysaying. Writing was probably seen as sorcery. The theatre was decadent. Novels were frowned upon. Today, smartphones are supposedly giving us all ADHD? Little wonder we scoff at old claims in new clothes.
But just because there are elements of moral panic to the claims about smartphones and doomscrolling doesn't mean the claims aren't true. There really is something different about modern mobile phones.
They're mobile.
In the olden days, things ended, and everything mobile was finite. Films ran out of reel. TV signed off at midnight. Newspapers fell apart when they got wet.
Today, a phone fits in your pocket and contains an infinity of content. Recent research from the University of Canterbury suggests people are spending an average of 2.5 hours a day on their phones; this adds up to more than a month each year. And we know perfectly well that it's very easy to exceed those numbers.
But knowing that phones are addictive doesn't answer one key question: why are we doomscrolling, instead of just looking up pleasant stuff all the time?
It's because we didn't evolve to ignore threats. We keep an eye out for danger so we can avoid it, and when bad stuff (like terrible politicians or the atrocities they commit) is presented to us juxtaposed with nice stuff (kittens, art, an inspirational speech set to music and wildlife footage) we don't have many cognitive defences. Social media moguls take advantage of this – to build a perfect trap.
I feel the need to pre-empt a bit of pushback here. The arguments I run into when I talk about this stuff essentially boil down to. a) we need to fact-check the fascists in our online spaces and b) being informed is important.
I've ranted at length about the first argument. The short version is: it's wildly, dangerously wrong. The second argument is harder to dismiss. Being informed is important - but marinating in rage isn't. For a compelling explanation, see Janus Rose's excellent article You Can't Post Your Way Out Of Fascism.
*You can discourse and quote-dunk and fact-check until you’re blue in the face, but at a certain point, you have to stop and decide what truth you believe in. The internet has conditioned us to constantly seek new information, as if becoming a sponge of bad news will eventually yield the final piece of a puzzle. But there is also such a thing as having enough information. As the internet continues to enshittify, maybe what we really need is to start trusting each other and our own collective sense of what is true and good.*
Hopefully that's enough, if you weren't already convinced, about why you should try to stop doomscrolling, dunking, and being rage-baited.
But didn't we start by talking about how hard it is to stop doomscrolling and how your past attempts probably failed?
Well, yes. It's very hard to just stop on willpower alone. That'll work for, oh, 48 hours or so of white-knuckled desperation before you cave and feel wrecked by frustration and guilt.
But I know it's possible to stop doomscrolling, because I (mostly) have.
I don't say this lightly, and I'm very aware that we're all different so your results may vary. But I've been a hopeless Internet addict since we first got dial-up. Since the following techniques have worked for me after years of trying to cut back, there's a chance they will for you too.
Delete.
Social media apps are designed to grab and hold your attention. The best way to deny this is to delete the apps that are causing you trouble. Yes, that sounds obvious. It is. Sometimes the obvious solutions are the best ones. Try it. You can always re-download them later; they will helpfully(?) remember all your data.
Mute and block.
You don't actually have to engage with doom or rage-bait. In a lot of social media apps, you can mute people or things you don't want to see and block anyone and anything that's psychologically harmful. (For instance, I mute all mentions of the word "cricket".)
Find your friends – elsewhere.
There's nothing wrong with talking to your friends. But the reason all the addictive apps have messaging functions and encourage you to ransack your phone's contact book and get access to your email and do everything short of cracking open your skull and sipping the goo within is that's how they get you. How can you leave your friends behind?
Get them to text you. Or call you, like in the 80s. Download a multi-messaging app like Beeper that will connect to practically every messaging app you already use without requiring you to log in to their platform. If someone wants to send you a juicy meme, they can, but you don't have to log into a platform that will hijack your brain like contaminated crack.
Prioritise creation over consumption.
My pet theory is that a lot of scrolling comes from a misapplied urge to create things. So do that instead. Don't go on socials unless you have something to say. Post before perusing. And once you've made your point, don't hang around longer than you need to. This helps resolve the paradox of using social media while not spending too much time on it - it means that you're there to support your goals and find your people, and that makes your media consumption more mindful.
Increase the friction.
You can do all that stuff and still find yourself frantically re-installing TikTok after an agonising hour spent without. To make this work, you need friction - to raise barriers to scrolling.
Well, there's an app for that. Actually there are lots.
I use one called Freedom that works across my laptop and my phone, which makes it good for me. If that app isn't for you, there are lots more.
But none of them will work if you don't do the last, most important step.
Substitute.
This last tip comes from the vampires in Terry Pratchett's fantasy-satire Discworld series. They manage their addiction to blood by substituting it for something ritualistic and compelling, like getting really into coffee and carrying the fantasy-world equivalent of a temperamental Italian espresso machine everywhere they go.
It's good advice for the real world, too. There's a subreddit full of people who are swearing off aimless scrolling called r/nosurf. They have a comprehensive resource file full of ideas for content surfing substitutes (one of which is real surfing - it's pretty hard to flick through Instagram while getting dumped by actual waves).
The good thing about this advice is that it can work for anyone. The best thing to help you put down your phone is doing something that literally requires you to put down your phone. For me, that's painting. It's pretty hard to scroll your phone when your hands are full with brushes, palette, and paint. Other things are falling into the hole that scrolling left, like playing the drums, doing exercise, and writing. I think it’s enabled me to be more present with the family as well, which is something I very much want. I have a bit more space, and it’s a good feeling.
And it’s a nice break from the doom.
Thanks Josh! And thanks for reading. Thanks for supporting Emily Writes Weekly so I can pay for guest posts and share good info and advice and lived experiences. I really appreciate your support in getting behind this newsletter.
I do think if we stop doom scrolling and focus on the things we can do to show up for our communities, it would make a huge difference. With that in mind - I’ll keep sharing posts on how to step up for communities and how to make submissions on important issues.
With that being said - the Regulatory Standards Bill is open for submissions NOW.
This bill is the twin to the garbage Treaty Principles Bill. So much so that you can use your submission for that bill as the template to this one. It has been described as: The ‘dangerous’ bill flying under the radar and “arguably one of the most regressive and dangerous Bills ever considered”.
Don’t believe me? Believe everyone else then:
Regulatory Standards Bill inflicts ACT’s far-right principles on Aotearoa
Government’s Regulatory Standards Bill to cost $20m per year
‘Treaty Principles 2.0’ – law experts concerned by regulatory bill
Thousands of Regulatory Standards Bill submissions not read by ministry
Regulatory Standards Bill will lead to 'inappropriate, dangerous' powers, claimants say
So what should you do? Make a submission. It’s easy:
Click here before 1:00pm on 23 June 2025. Remember: Submissions are publicly released and published to the Parliament website. Don’t call David Seymour an unseasoned steak even though he is one - they’ll just ignore your submission.
You’ll be asked I/We wish to make the following comments. Share anything you like but be clear about your opposition. For example: “I oppose the proposed Regulatory Standards Bill. It prioritises big business over people and the environment. Instead, we need regulations that protect New Zealand’s resources, our whānau, and future generations.”
I included statements like: “It gives far too much power to its architect Minister for Regulation David Seymour” and “This bill has been rejected three times already” and “Taxpayers are put at risk of having to pay the losses of a corporate's profits resulting from legislation even if that legislation protects workers or the environment or the public.”
Where it says I/We wish to make the following recommendations clearly state that you think the Regulatory Standards Bill 2021 and its proposed updates should be rejected. Make sure you also address referendums because Seymour has a boner for them. Eg. “There is no need for this bill and it should not go to an expensive and unnecessary referendum.”
Submit. Then: Celebrate! You did your bit to stand up against greedy corporates and exploitative business, protect future generations, our precious whenua, and our values as a country.
After all our doomscrolling it's easy to feel despondent about submitting on the RSB. Especially when most of have done *so many* submissions recently. But this one is not only, as Emily so clearly states, soooo bad. It also appears to have fairly lukewarm support from National and even NZFirst (neither of whom likely relish sending so much power Seymour's way). So there's a chance this could end up being slow-walked, or modified to make it less harmful and lots of submissions against it would help.
Apparently AI is now being used to analyse submissions and responses to consultations so a human might not even read your carefully crafted arguments. AI tallies how many are opposed and how many for. I wonder how you write in order to get AI to notice?