Our Screens Are Stealing Our Connections. It’s Time We Take Them Back.

As an avid tech user, developer, and advocate, I’ve seen the incredible potential of technology to bring us together. But like many people, I’ve also witnessed its power to tear us apart—not just from each other but from ourselves. In a world that’s never been more connected, we’re starving for authentic human connection. This is a strange paradox, and it’s not by accident.

The rapid rise in cyberpsychology and psychological app design has enabled companies, for the first time in human history, to hijack our reward systems. They’ve engineered a digital world that keeps us hooked on superficial interactions while eroding our capacity for real ones. The result? Skyrocketing rates of social isolation, boredom, depression, and fractured attention. As MIT professor, author, and sociologist Sherry Turkle warns in her book Alone Together, “We expect more from technology and less from each other.”

While reading the U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory on “Social Media and Youth Mental Health,” I felt disturbed by the impact of social media on young people recorded by the U.S. Surgeon General. Here are some of the statistics I found most alarming:

• Social media use is nearly universal among youth, with up to 95% of 13 to 17-year-olds using at least one platform and over a third using it “almost constantly.”
• Even 40% of kids aged 8–12 are on social media, despite 13 being the minimum age for most platforms.
• Teens who spend 3+ hours per day on social media face double the risk of mental health issues like depression and anxiety.
• 8th-10th graders now average a staggering 3.5 hours per day on social media, with 1 in 5 spending 5+ hours daily and 1 in 7 spending 7+ hours daily.
• Nearly half of teens say social media makes them feel worse about their body image.
• Two-thirds regularly see hate content, and many women of color face racist posts at least monthly.

Similarly, the House of Commons Committee recently published a report, “Screen time: impacts on education and wellbeing,” which paints a dark picture that further exemplifies how screen usage has evolved in terms of both the amount of time spent on our screens and how we use them.

• Children’s screen time has surged 52% in just two years.
• 1 in 4 young people use their smartphones in a way that mirrors addiction.
• By the teenage years, screen time rivals a full-time job at nearly 8 hours per day.
• Over 80% of girls have faced online threats or abuse.
• Violent pornography exposure is now the norm, where 79% of children had encountered violent pornography before the age of 18.

Behind these numbers are real people missing out on the richness of in-person experiences and relationships. We’re losing touch with what it means to truly connect — exchange ideas, dream together, savor moments together, and build lasting bonds.

Some argue this is simply the inevitable march of progress. However, as media theorist Neil Postman presciently warned, “the computer person values information, not knowledge, certainly not wisdom. Indeed, in the computer age, the concept of wisdom may vanish altogether.”

We’re drowning in a deluge of information but starving for genuine insight and understanding. Endless doomscrolling and 30-second videos can never replace the depth of a heartfelt conversation, the joy of tackling a challenge together, or the pain of laughing so long and so hard during a late-night, spontaneous conversation. Our relentless chase for instant digital gratification is eroding our ability to think deeply, reflect honestly, and be fully present with each other.

This isn’t just a personal problem — it’s a societal one. As more of our interactions move online, we’re losing the “third places” that have long been the glue of thriving communities. From neighborhood pubs and pool halls, barbershops and bookstores, to cafes and churches, these are the spaces where diverse people come together to swap stories, share laughs, and feel part of something bigger than themselves.

When those brick-and-mortar meeting points disappear, the tear in our social fabric widens. We have an obligation to support these local businesses and community hubs because, without them, we dig ourselves deeper into the digital age of shallow connections. We can’t strengthen our cultural ties or rebuild a sense of belonging if we’re each isolated behind our own screens. Digital tools can supplement our social lives, but they can never fully sustain them. Engineers built these devices as tools, not replacements for human connection.

So, how do we reclaim our connections? It starts with recognizing that not all online activity is created equal. We must be intentional about how we spend our screen time, prioritizing platforms and experiences that enrich our lives and relationships instead of fragmenting them.

At a personal level, that means:

1. Carving out screen-free spaces and times to be fully present with loved ones (read about how Marc Randolph, co-founder of Netflix finds this harmony here).
2. Seeking out local “third places” to connect with our wider community.
3. Balancing online interactions with equal or greater offline engagement.
4. Curating our digital inputs to minimize shallow distractions and maximize meaningful content, whether it be learning, engaging in real conversations (not trolling), and not encouraging those who do cowardly troll behind their screens.

As a society, we need to demand better from Big Tech. I’m not talking about just protecting privacy and curbing misinformation but fundamentally redesigning products to put real human connections first. That means:

• Optimizing for time well spent, not just time spent.
• Empowering users with tools to self-regulate their usage in time and quality.
• Cracking down on interface patterns that foster compulsion over compassion.
• Expanding access to platforms that facilitate real-world interaction, not just virtual escape.

In founding Fabric, my goal is to leverage technology to help people find their people and make memories that matter. Because in the end, no number of likes, shares, or retweets can ever replace the electricity of meeting someone who ignites you as a person, the wonder of exploring a new place, or the satisfaction of acquiring a new skill—in real life, in real-time.

Our screens may have stolen our attention, but they don’t have to steal our connections. By being intentional about how we engage with technology and each other, we can reclaim the wisdom, meaning, and belonging that make us fully human. The future of connection is ours to write.