I didn’t use to be, but now I’m part of the 2% of U.S. households without a television. With its near ubiquity, why reject this technology?

The Beginning of my Disillusionment

Neil Postman’s book Amusing Ourselves to Death radically changed my perspective on television and its place in our culture. Here’s one illuminating passage:

We are no longer fascinated or perplexed by [TV’s] machinery. We do not tell stories of its wonders. We do not confine our TV sets to special rooms. We do not doubt the reality of what we see on TV [and] are largely unaware of the special angle of vision it affords. Even the question of how television affects us has receded into the background. The question itself may strike some of us as strange, as if one were to ask how having ears and eyes affects us. [In the 1960s], the question “Does television shape culture or merely reflect it?” held considerable interest for scholars and social critics. The question has largely disappeared as television has gradually become our culture. This means that we rarely talk about television, only what is on television—that is, about its content.

Postman wrote this in 1985 and unmasked the gorilla in the room—a culture that has acquiesced to the institution of television. Having grown up with one in my family home since birth, I took its presence for granted. I didn’t question it anymore than I might have questioned any other utility such as running water or electricity. So who would be crazy enough in the 21st century to forego television?

A Man who was Crazy Enough

One day while exploring YouTube, I came across an obscure 2003 interview with author David Foster Wallace.

Interviewer: “Do you watch TV?”

Wallace: “I don’t have TV because if I have a TV, I will watch it all the time. So there is my little confession about how strong I am at resisting stuff.”

He elaborates further in the interview here:

“One of the reasons I can’t own a TV is…I’ve become convinced there’s something really good on another channel and that I’m missing it. So instead of watching, I’m scanning anxiously back and forth. Now all you have to do is [motions clicking a remote]—you don’t even have to get up now to change [the channel]! That’s when we were screwed.”

Wallace said this twenty years ago. And while younger generations aren’t watching cable television as much, they are instead watching YouTube and TikTok which are proxies; you can just as easily change the ‘channel’ by skipping to a different video. (For the remainder of this post I’ll use the word ‘television’ to also refer to these types of video content). 

But maybe Wallace was just a weak-willed person? Why should I abstain? I would need a mountain of evidence to quit watching television—an activity I had been engaging in for the better part of two decades.

A Mountain of Evidence

Had I been looking, I would have seen it all around me: the late nights of sacrificing sleep for “just one more episode”, the YouTube rabbit holes that started in the name of learning that inevitably ended in brain-rotting videos, and the ever-increasing number of porn videos I needed to stimulate my tired dopamine receptors that had been bludgeoned by years of binging. But, of course, this is just anecdotal evidence. For my skeptical mind I would need more.

And that evidence came in the form of author Deirdre Barrett’s book Supernormal Stimuli: How Primal Urges Overran Their Evolutionary Purpose. She writes “The most sinister aspect of TV lies in the medium itself. There’s a growing body of research on what it does to our brain.” Television, she explains, activates the orienting response.

Orienting Response: the basic instinct to pay attention to any sudden or novel stimulus such as movement or sound. It evolved to help us spot and assess potential predators, prey, enemies, and mates. The orienting person or animal turns eyes and ears in the direction of the stimulus and then freezes while parts of the brain associated with new learning become more active. Blood vessels to the brain dilate, those to muscles constrict, [and] the heart slows.

Example: deer-in-the-headlights. The deer orients itself to the light, unsure of what it is…and then gets clocked by a multi-ton steel machine at 60mph before it understands what is happening. So the orienting response, which helps deer escape their natural predators, isn’t adapted to modern times. It’s the same for you and I.

Author Barrett continues by revealing:

The visual techniques of TV—cuts, zooms, pans, and sudden noises—all activate the orient response. The effect persists for 4-6 seconds after each stimulus. After a certain level of intensity, however, the orienting response is overworked and effects on learning and attention begin to reverse. 

YouTube is notorious for this. Watch any video essay and you’ll notice a slight zoom or cut every few seconds. Editors may not know the neuroscience, but they do know this editing style increases engagement. We’re just like the deer-in-the-headlights—our attention captured by the same orienting response—and it’s hard to look away.

Barrett explains further that:

This is what we see with ads, action scenes, and music videos, with rapid-fire one per second stimuli. Following prolonged bombardment with these stimuli, the viewer develops a strange mix of physiological signs of high and low attention. Eyes stay focused, the body is still and directed towards the screen, but learning and memory drop to lower levels than when not orienting. Measurements of metabolism, including calorie-burning, average 14.5% lower when watching TV than when simply lying in bed. EEG studies similarly find less mental stimulation, as measured by alpha brain-waves, during viewing vs reading.

To summarize, watching a screen:

• Triggers the orienting response,
• Lowers learning and memory levels,
• Decreases metabolism, and 
• Is less mentally stimulating than an alternative source of entertainment such as reading.

Dr. Brant Cortright introduces more bad news for television fans in his book, The Neurogenesis Diet and Lifestyle, revealing that:

One activity that is clearly destructive to the brain is watching too much TV. Passively watching TV for several hours per day is associated with a 20% increased risk for cognitive impairment.

So while my physical body is relaxing and sinking ever further into my couch, my cognition is declining but I don’t even notice it. Why? Because the novelty of television spikes my dopamine and endogenous opioid levels (ie: feelings of pleasure). This, in combination with the orienting response that compels me to stay engaged, ensures that my mental energy levels will continue to decrease without me being aware of it. This tracks because when I finally do stop watching television, I’m typically more tired than when I started…

I’m not an addict, am I?

Dr. Anna Lembke in her book Dopamine Nation defines addiction as follows:

Addiction—continued and compulsive use of a substance or behavior despite the negative consequences

One of my least favorite cliches of all time is “everything in moderation.” I dislike it because it’s exactly what my brain told me every time I tried to reduce my consumption of television. Despite the consequences of less sleep, despite the missed social time with friends because I substituted them for new Friends (Rachel, Ross, Chandler, Monica…), I kept crawling back to my comfort zone of television.

One day, while reviewing my notes of Postman’s book, I came across a quote that slapped me across the face: 

The problem does not reside in what we watch. The problem is in that we watch.

Given the amount of evidence I had accumulated, I magically changed overnight, became a beacon of willpower and restraint, and relinquished all television!

Struggling with Quitting

Well, not quite. Instead, I wrestled with myself for years on whether I should get sober from television. Eventually, I resolved to phase out my addictive technologies one at a time. 

First was video games (which also activates the orienting response to some degree). I asked a friend to keep my PlayStation at his house with the caveat that I may ask for it back. Preceding the transfer I was feeling reluctant—my brain was yelling that I was being ridiculous and that moderation is key. Now, looking back, I can see that the addicted mind will find a way to rationalize continued use at all costs. I knew I made the right decision because, once the PlayStation was out of my apartment, I didn’t miss it.

Next was YouTube. Yes, it does provide some value. But for me the price of binging hours every night wasn’t worth it. I tried for years to create a system to limit usage, but it always failed. As author Gary Taubes says “You don’t cure an addiction with moderation; you do it with abstinence.” When I quit YouTube for good, I was greeted with withdrawal symptoms of lethargy, irritability, sleeplessness, and high stress for days. I had been operating as a functional addict and only realized it after distancing myself from the technology. This aligns with some research that “internet addicts can suffer a form of cold turkey when they stop using the web—just like people coming off drugs.”

Finally, I sold my television and canceled my streaming subscriptions. Like the video games, I didn’t miss them once they were gone.

A Quiet Place

When I come home from work now, I cook in silence and eat dinner while reading a book. I relax by taking a walk or listening to music on my CD player. Some positive effects I noticed are that:

• My energy levels are at an all-time high.
• I don’t feel that anxious buzz to constantly consume more content.
• I’m more extroverted and strike up conversations with attractive women.
• The extra space—that I used to fill with podcasts or television—allows my brain to process my thoughts and emotions.
• My creativity is through the roof because I allow myself to be bored.

I refuse to live vicariously through the characters on my screen anymore. I reject television—the modern opiate of the masses. And the best part? I don’t regret my decision in the slightest.