Preparing for the Newspocalypse

Mind your sanity. Connect close to home. Set boundaries. Support the media you trust. Live your life. Don't feel guilty about it. There's no better advice than that.

There won’t be a quiz at the end of the day. Source: Tech Daily on Unsplash.

I’ve written about how to read the news and why you should read less of it. Not everyone can follow these guidelines strictly, but even those in the news business would be well-served by a little more time off from the conveyor belt of doom.

The coming months and years are going to come at us like a fire hydrant with the cap popped — a fire hydrant that’s also being swept away by a breaking dam. In short, it’s going to be a lot and it’s going to be incessant.

And I mean incessant. Donald Trump and his plans for the US (and Canada, for that matter) will suck all the air out of the room. If some manages to remain, there’s the Liberal leadership race, the federal election, a possible Ontario election, and then the day-to-day stuff: breaking news, the ever-growing and brutal effects of climate change, and whatever fresh hell lurks around the corner. Our brains don’t function well when constantly processing this much anxiety-inducing information, nor do our minds and bodies.

Time had it you really had to seek out current affairs, turning the channel to it at a designated time, flicking on your radio to a news station or catching a news break on the hour, subscribing to a paper, or fetching a magazine from the newsstand. Then you could read the news of the day at your own pace, put it down, and then wait for more the next day. There was distance between you and events. If something truly notable happened, they might break in on your procedural cop show on sitcom. But otherwise, you could more or less go about your business.

There are still plenty of people who live like that today, but the 24/7 cable news machine, social media, text and messenger apps, and push notifications have ushered in an era of constant connectedness, lowering the friction between your peace and your awareness of what’s going on outside the boundaries of your immediate life. And once you’re sucked into this ecosystem, it can begin to feel normal. Or worse, necessary. That way lies madness.

I think people ought to be informed about what’s happening outside their neighbourhood, but you hit a point of diminishing returns rather quickly. Sucked into the vortex, all you see is the worst there is to offer. It’s true that such things are indeed out there, happening now, and quite bad to boot. But it’s equally true that there are much nicer things happening, too, and there’s only so much you can do about either.

The news is designed to capture and hold your attention and to generate a profit. At least most of the time. Nothing does any of that like bad news. Insofar as news is a corporate, profit-driven affair, or an ego-driven endeavour run by competitive A-type obsessives, there’s always going to be a struggle for your attention that counsels you to stay plugged in. But what does that get you? Eventually, exhaustion, anxiety, depression, and hopelessness.

A better model is to set boundaries with the news, choosing carefully your sources and the hours you’re jacked-in, limiting, too, your time on social media or forums or wherever you meet the deluge. Choose a selection of media you trust, vary it a bit so you don’t get lazy, and support those professionals to the hilt (this isn’t a deliberate shameless plug, I swear). Connect closer to home in recreational spaces of board games, video games, sports leagues, book clubs, long walks on the beach, and dinners with family and friends.

You may feel compelled to not just be informed, but also active in building what, to you, is a better world. I think that’s great. I also think that posting online and scrolling through the latest Trump troll isn’t going to serve that end. It’s better to find a connection, cause, or movement, closer to you, into which you can put your time, energy, and money. Indeed, much of these undertakings can be restorative. So not only do they keep you away from the fire hydrant/burst dam, but they also recharge you. That’s a twofer.

I’ve gotten a lot better at following my own advice in the last few years. (I’m not just the president of the club, I’m a member, too!) I’ve deleted social media and news apps from my phone. I listen to music. I’ve tuned out most podcasts except my favourites and swapped in audiobooks (lots of science fiction, so not too far from dystopia, and history). I read 90 minutes each day from a physical book in hand. I play sports and video games and board games. I hang out with our dog Sam. I walk on a treadmill and watch spy thrillers. It’s very nice.

When it’s time, I suit up and drop into the news of the day, treating that act as one would treat dealing with hazardous materials. I do what I must do, properly equipped for the task, and then I get the hell out and shut the door behind me. Tight.

You don’t have to take my word for any of this. But, hey, new year, new you. Give it a shot. It costs you nothing except a little effort. The returns could be astronomical. And with your newfound time and energy, you could do something extraordinary, something so significant that someday they’ll rename the Gulf of Mexico America after you! Wouldn’t that be nice?