Analog cure for a digital disease
The joy of opening the phone and fully immersing ourselves into the information wave is fading. There is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from a day spent online: a feeling of being simultaneously overstimulated and empty. But what if the antidote isn’t a new app or a digital detox, but a ball of yarn and a crochet hook?
For a generation raised as digital natives, there is a quiet rebellion happening under our noses. Young people are increasingly turning to a new — yet rather old — source of comfort: analog, or “granny,” hobbies. It may seem like a nostalgic nod to the past, but it’s really more a conscious act of self-preservation. They are discovering the satisfying, rhythmic pull of a crochet hook transforming a single thread into a tangible fabric. They’re trading their infinite selfies for the deliberate, mechanical click of a film camera’s shutter and the tingling anticipation for a photograph they can actually hold in their hands. Journals are being written, sketches are being drawn.
This movement is more than a trend; it’s a diagnosis of our times. After a decade of overstimulation, teens, young adults and young parents are realizing that human brains were never meant to live online full-time. This digital fatigue has clear symptoms: a fractured attention span, a persistent low-level anxiety and the constant need and feeling of being connected to everything but present in nothing.
Perhaps the solution to digital fatigue is not a better algorithm, but a better rhythm. Something found in seeds, pencils, recipes, books or even silence.
We have been teaching ourselves how to deal with overflowing information — how to choose news alerts, block strangers on social media apps, prevent our children from inappropriate content and recognize artificial intelligence. Countries like Australia and Malaysia have implemented laws that ban social media use under a certain age, and many are either following suit or exploring similar restrictions. While such legal actions can stem the information overflow, technology will keep advancing whether we like it or not. New apps and other media will come forward, posing even bigger challenges. One crucial way to navigate the unknown is not only learning about more advanced technology but also developing the capacity to simply unplug. To stop for a minute and breathe. To look back on the footsteps of advancement and hit pause.
Scrolling and algorithms offer release and entertainment, but they don’t cultivate grit. They don’t teach you how to try again if you mess up, how to figure out a difficult knot or how to read instructions to make a loaf of sourdough. Analog hobbies do.
Gloriously, it doesn’t take much to go back to our roots. While the current stage of information technology requires both hardware and software, not to mention a rather steep learning curve, analog hobbies don’t ask for much. Replacing music apps with iPods and mp3s, or even switching to CDs or LPs, can be more than enough, while pushing a small button for a photo is less stressful than choosing the ideal filter for that perfect pout.
What has seemingly become a trend could develop into a more systematic approach to healing loneliness, depression and even burnout.
According to the Korea Institute for Health and Social Affairs, 37.3 percent of male adults and 50.6 percent of female adults have experienced burnout. The causes differ, ranging from work stress to competition with friends, classmates or colleagues, and while many take medical advice from therapists and doctors, experts are now also recommending analog hobbies as an easier, more accessible and even affordable getaway.
We still don’t fully understand the long-term effects of social media on ourselves and society; its history is too short and shallow, and its influence spreads faster than research ever could. And for Koreans, who are famous for being trend-conscious and allergic to missing out, the tendency to adopt new technologies with 100 percent enthusiasm can have its drawbacks.
If younger generations around the world are seeking refuge in analog hobbies, it isn’t just out of nostalgia — they are too young to appreciate that part of the past. It’s out of wisdom and necessity. The generation that was unknowingly given the gift of technology is retaking control and choosing to log off.
It could mean that the next era of youth culture won’t be purely digital or purely analog, but a thoughtful and harmonious blend of both. Progress doesn’t always have to mean acceleration; recalibration can be meaningful.
The digital world is convenient and immediate, while the analog world has texture, requires patience and rewards effort. Building a model car, knitting a sweater or tending a garden teaches a different kind of lesson: that the process is as important as the outcome, and that imperfections do not need to be erased or edited out — they are a part of creation.
Instead of treating analog hobbies as quirky and temporary side interests for stressed students, overly wired young people and burned-out professionals, we should consider making them part of everyday life. Schools could offer more classes to cultivate these hobbies, giving students time to rest their busy brains and heavy shoulders. More companies could organize clubs or lectures, helping us integrate hobbies into daily life, just like our phones and social media. It’s not that people don’t understand the consequences or effects of these activities. They simply need a slight push — a catalyst for turning something good into a habit, or establishing a stable rhythm in a fast world. Then perhaps we will stop asking why people have turned back to analog, and instead start asking why it took so long for the rest of us to follow.
Han Sang-hee is a former staff reporter at The Korea Times and former editor at CNN Travel. She is based in Stuttgart, Germany, but now lives in Seoul with her Italian husband and two daughters and shares stories on her instagram @rachelsanghee.