#111: The 12 Steps of Algoholics Anonymous

HUMOR

My name is Ariana Newhouse, and I’m addicted to the algorithm.

1. I admit that I am powerless over the algorithm. My life has become unmanageable as evidenced by my 6 hour and 44 minute screen time average and ability to perform every current TikTok dance trend by memory.

2. I believe that a Power greater than myself (child-lock app limits) can restore my sanity and save me eye strain.

3. I have made the decision to turn my will and life over to the Power of child-lock app limits as I understand them to be password protected and I trust Adam will guard the passcode with his life even if I get cut off in the middle of a really funny video that he actually would probably also enjoy so maybe he should just extend the limit this one special time.

4. I have made a searching and fearless inventory of myself which brought up a lot of shame and guilt for all the time I wasted watching Who TF Did I Marry (which I’ll just have to watch all over again when it becomes a show since it got picked up by ABC, which obviously I know from TikTok), Diet Pepsi dance edits, and endless takes on The Bad Art Friend from BookTokers. I don’t feel too bad about the time spent watching ASMR because I’ve convinced myself that’s therapeutic in some way the creators are definitely not qualified to be practitioners of. And watching standup and comedy content is basically RESEARCH for my JOB so get off my back, okay? The point is, mistakes were made. Time was wasted. Excuses keep getting excused. But it’s time to get real.

5. I admit to myself, the powers that be, and to all of you reading the exact nature of my wrongs: I wasted delicious, youthful, sunshine-filled hours of my one precious life scrolling on Instagram and TikTok watching strangers and acquaintances and occasionally people I actually know and love live their lives while I should have been living mine. I complained loudly and frequently about hating my phone and wanting it to die. Yet I never let the battery dip below 19%. I saved hundreds of videos for future reference that I will never go back and look at. I watched nearly an entire season of bootlegged Real Housewives content in 90-second increments with side-by-side cooking videos. I allowed myself to be enraged by cruel comment sections I never engaged in or had anything to do with. I memorized lots of dances without ever getting up to actually dance.

6. Listen, I was entirely ready to have the Power of child-lock app limits remove all these defects of character. But on second thought, I’m actually thinking this doesn’t have to be a cold turkey scenario. I mean, I’ve got to keep my finger on the pulse, right? So I am ready to allow the Power to remove 5 hours and 44 minutes of my shortcomings on average. But I’d like to keep one hour per day of the shortcomings if that’s cool.

7. I humbly ask Adam to invoke the Power of child-lock app limits and set my screen time allowance to 30 minutes on Instagram and 30 minutes on TikTok per day. (If you want to send me a note applauding how brave this is, I will humbly accept.)

8. I have made a list of all persons I have harmed as a result of my algorithm addiction, and I’m ready to make amends. (The creators of every TV show I “watched” while simultaneously scrolling, my friends and family I said “huh?” or “mhmm” to when they tried to speak to me during scroll time and I couldn’t pull myself out of the algorithm fast enough to respond or fully pay attention right away, all the little kids who saw me cross the street while looking at my phone who now know I’m a bad influence who may one day be hit by a car, etc.)

9. I am sorry for all the times the newsletter was sent late (today) because I spent hours scrolling rather than writing to you. I understand that you probably didn’t know that was why they were late or didn’t realize they were late at all so it kind of feels like I’m exposing myself for nothing here, but I hope you can forgive me or at the very least forget about it and pretend I’ve always been perfect and on time. Whatever you prefer. But truly — my bad, sorry about that.

10. I will continue to take personal inventory and promptly admit when I’m wrong, like yesterday when I tried to circumvent the app limits and get on Facebook instead. It was horrible. I learned six people from my graduating class are pregnant and thirteen more are engaged. Four just bought houses and seven think I’d be the perfect girlboss to take my finances into my own hands and run my own business for the low startup cost of $5,000. I was wrong to get on Facebook. My brain will never recover from the AI-generated propaganda images I saw people I used to respect posting without irony. I take accountability for this misstep and its consequences.

11. The time I’ve reclaimed from the algorithm will be spent living, journaling, meditating, creating, reading, and interacting with real human people rather than their digital avatars. It will take a while to get used to putting on real pants, leaving my home, and adjusting to other humans’ smells, but I will persevere.

12. Having benefited from the spiritual awakening granted by following these steps over the last three days since Adam set my screen time password and I failed to guess what it is, it is now my hope to pass along these steps to other thumb-fatigued algoholics addicted to their algorithms. May your scrolling be limited and your child-lock app limits impenetrable.

ily bye,

Ariana