Here are 5 short stories from my adventures over the past month that perfectly encapsulate my hopes, dreams, fears, and concerns about where we’re at as a society in 2025…
Let’s get weird.
5 Seconds of Anger
He sits across the aisle from me on my flight to New York City.
He’s in his mid 60s or early 70s, seems pleasant enough, traveling with his wife to the big city. I wonder what their plans are for the weekend.
Before the flight leaves the ground, he has purchased internet access on his iPhone.
For the next three hours, he scrolls through Facebook posts. His wife does the same.
Five seconds at a time, he’s mindlessly swiping and reading posts and memes and watching news clips, most of which are designed to enrage, incite fear, frustrate, and divide.
I try to read my book, but can’t help but glance up to see what’s on his screen.
Occasionally he clicks to read some of the comments, all of which are inflammatory, mostly in agreement with the meme or upsetting news story.
I wonder how many of those posts or comments are made by bots and nefarious actors. Probably most of them.
I then think: what book would this gentleman be reading on this flight had it been 10+ years ago?
Probably a book about submarines or a specific battle in World War II.
Maybe he’d be reading Shadow Divers: a true story about deep sea divers who discover a wrecked WW II submarine off the coast of America.
And it makes me sad.
We all have choices, but it feels like our phones and news and social media have been perfectly optimized to take that choice away from us.
An algorithm that subtly shifts us and sends us further down various rabbit holes, until we end up in an individualized bubble disconnected from reality.
New York City and the Megaphone
I’m spending 36 hours revisiting my old stomping grounds, New York City.
I meet up with my friend Ramit, who I met thanks to the internet, and we get a chance to see Glengarry Glen Ross on Broadway.
The show, amazing.
The cast, incredible: Bill Burr (a comedian whose podcast I’ve listened to for over a decade), Bob Odenkrik (Better Call Saul! Nobody! Breaking Bad!), and Kieran Culkin (Succession! A Real Pain!).
The next day, I grab lunch with an old college buddy and visit the Nintendo Store.
Afterwards, I decide to walk to the New York Public Library.
Outside, I see a gentleman standing on a crate, with a mega phone and giant sign hanging around his neck.
He’s spouting off about “the one true plan” for everybody and how we’re all doomed and that only he has the solution.
I stand and watch for five minutes on this busy street corner, as hundreds of people walk past, ignoring him completely without a thought.
After the library, I make a bad decision and spend a few minutes on Twitter (excuse me, X).
I see a hilarious post with the funniest topical commentary I’ve ever seen.
Next I see a post from another internet friend, Dr. Spencer Nadolsky, a board certified physician, replying to a post full of dietary misinformation and a lack of understanding of science.
Dr. Nadolsky provides references to studies, speaks with real authority, and calmly refutes each point.
I click on the comments (bad move), most of which are bad-faith arguments that ignore his actual argument, all emboldened by a community of people who believe in an ideology built around eating a certain way, facts be damned.
The next post? More misinformation from somebody who should know better.
It’s a complete lie, and I can’t tell if it’s done out of ignorance or malice.
Again, thousands of comments, likes, and retweets.
I’m reminded of Brandolini’s Law, a.k.a. the “Bullsh** asymmetry principle”:
“The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than to produce it.”
I’m appreciative of Spencer fighting the good fight, but weep when I realize he’s trying to hold back the tide.
I also think of Hitchens’s Razor, and wish more people followed it:
“What can be asserted without evidence can also be dismissed without evidence.”
Strangers in the Desert
I’m on a flight to Los Angeles to play golf with a bunch of strangers in the desert.
And it’s completely normal.
Early in the pandemic, my friend Cash told me about a golf podcast called Chasing Scratch. Two guys in their late 30s trying to get better at golf while still being good at their jobs, good partners to their spouses, and good dads to their children.
I’ve listened to every episode, and became a huge fan.
At one point, they asked a few nutrition questions on the show, and I got a chance to be a guest (season 6, episode 11) and share the Nerd Fitness philosophy on nutrition!
Since then, Nerd Fitness has become an official sponsor, and I have attended 4 (soon to be 5!) of their golf events.
I’m in town for one of those events.
I first drive to Oceanside, CA, where I get to tour the Titleist Factory and get fitted for some new clubs at the famous Titleist Performance Institute (golf heaven, essentially).
I then drive to Palm Springs for a 3-day event with fellow podcast listeners.
I get a chance to check in with Mike and Eli, the two podcast hosts, who still seem surprised that 100+ people in their 30s and 40s will travel to play golf at an event they put together.
I see familiar faces and make new friends who I’ve interacted with on the Chasing Scratch group chat.
I feel totally connected with these strangers instantly, all because we happen to have the same hobby and passion for getting better at a silly game about hitting a ball into a hole.
It’s a rare online community that empowers its audience in every sense of the word.
(Hey, just like Nerd Fitness!).
I then get a chance to grab lunch with Justin, one of our coaches from NF, somebody who has been on our team for a few years…and I hadn’t ever met in person!
I’m reminded that using the internet to foster real in-person connection can be life-changing.
I am hopeful.
Siddhartha vs The Entirety of Human Existence
It’s early in the morning on a Saturday here in Nashville.
I am at a coffee shop trying to do the increasingly challenging task of “reading a book without getting distracted.”
The book: Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha.
I start a chapter, but quickly stop to check if the funny meme I texted my friends got any laughs.
I put the phone down and restart the chapter, because I forget what I had been reading.
After reading another few pages, I check Instagram to see if my dumb joke about eating a late dinner has done well.
Well, I try to.
Here’s what I see when I open Instagram:
Opal, the time-blocking app on my phone reminds me Instagram is blocked until noon, and then I only get 15 minutes before the phone locks me out for the day.
I put the phone back down, laughing at how automatic it was for me to just pick up my phone and check social media.
I get through the chapter, only picking up my phone three more times before remembering everything fun is blocked.
I realize just how addictive my phone can be, and resolve to keep technology at bay as I try to spend more time doing deep reading on classic books.
Karen X. Cheng over on Patreon says it better than I could:
“Opening Instagram doesn’t make me feel good anymore.
I’ve lost control over my feed. Instagram used to be a place where I could get inspired by the artists I chose to follow.
I decided what I paid attention to.
But it’s been less and less that lately. Now, they shove the most attention-grabbing thing in front of you, often from someone you don’t follow.
You no longer get to decide what you pay attention to.
They decide.”
I’m appreciative Past Steve set up blocks on my phone that didn’t require me to be “more disciplined” and just locked me out all together.
Giving up on myself is smart.
Using Ulysses pacts is the only way I can stay focused.
Digital Forests and Journaling with a Robot
My phone has 95 minutes left on my timer.
While Forest is activated, my phone is essentially useless.
At the end of the timer, a tiny little digital tree grows in my forest.
If I grow enough digital trees by not using my phone, I can turn in my points and they will plant an actual tree for me somewhere.
I don’t even know if they really plant trees, but I hope so!
And honestly, I’m pretty proud of the forest I’ve grown this year.
The reason Forest is activated this time is because I’m currently writing in my journal.
After a conversation with my friend Mark in LA about ChatGPT, I tell ChatGPT to give me a few journal prompts about processing guilt, something I struggle with as a lifelong people-pleaser.
Some of the questions make me uncomfortable, but I run toward the fear.
I grab my favorite pen and my journal, and I write a few pages of thoughts.
I find some clarity, some forgiveness for myself, and a plan on what to do differently in the future.
After I’m done, I take a photo of those journal pages, and tell ChatGPT “please transcribe this for me with sections and bullet points.”
It manages to perfectly transcribe my text in seconds, a task that would have taken me 20+ minutes to do myself.
I think to myself, “this feels like a assistant tool that helps me process my humanity better.”
Technology is a friction-reducing tool
E. O. Wilson once said “We have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology.”
The internet has changed my life, allowing me to build a business and connect with readers all over the globe, reducing the friction between me and building a business.
The internet has also changed society in many “not so great” ways, reducing the friction between many people and dangerous paths, groups, or ideas they never would have found.
My phone has reduced the friction between light connection with me and my friends, or allowing me to make new friends that I never would have met.
My phone has also reduced the friction between me and endless dopamine hits and unlimited distraction.
It’s why I have strict guardrails installed: I have no self-control and I know I’m up against behavioral psychologists and billions of dollars designed to keep me engaged and distracted.
I love online communities and how life has connected people from all over the world.
I’m wary of online communities built on toxic traits and providing a false sense of “belonging” to people who are desperate for connections.
Algorithms sent me THIS youtube video which I absolutely adored:
Algorithms sent me this new channel right when it launched “So, we found a ruin.”
I’m listening to WOLFCLUB and The Strike, a band that Spotify suggested for me based on my past music history:
Algorithms also create individual bubbles that might make us more and more disconnected from reality.
As a weird human, I love creating content on the internet and connecting with real humans (like you).
As a weird human, I lament what will happen when AI is creating the majority of content on the internet, commented on by fake bots, boosted by nefarious algorithms.
ChatGPT is incredible, transcribing my notes and providing interesting prompts to consider, and honestly provides some decent advice for a majority of topics. I’m excited to see how this can be used to actually help improve people’s lives.
ChatGPT is incredibly frustrating in other ways, and I know it’s been trained on the hard work of humans. I am fearful of how many people will be put out of work, how much of my content it’s already been trained on, what happens when it hallucinates and causes real problems, and what all of this means for society in the coming years.
My 2025 Philosophy for Technology
Technology continues to evolve rapidly, so here’s how I’m thinking about all of this in 2025:
Continue to share my weird thoughts, hopes, dreams, and my life philosophy with you on this site and in my newsletter.
Have real coaches at Nerd Fitness who build workouts and provide real human feedback to our clients who know it’s really their coach the other side of the app helping them level up.
Prioritize connecting with people in real life as much as possible.
Be wary of everything I see on the internet, unless it comes from people I actually know and trust.
Strict guardrails around social media, using it very sparingly and being locked out of it after a short amount of time.
Embracing Brandolini’s Law and Hitchens Razor: it takes zero effort to spread bullsh**, and takes infinitely more time to refute it.
Thus, constantly reminding myself that more and more of the internet is going to be artificially generated and algorithmically boosted and commented on by bots, not real people.
Whenever I find myself getting angry or frustrated or overwhelmed with “all of the problems of all of the world” on the internet, just like the Receiver of Memories in The Giver…
That’s when it’s time to put the phone down, pick up a book, touch grass, or go spend time with real humans in real life.
-Steve