Quiet luxury of logging off

Chyung Eun-ju

Up until recently, luxury was defined by visibility and material wealth indicators. Fast cars, designer bags, rare watches and an Instagram feed to flaunt it all. But it seems that this year, the quiet act of logging off and disappearing from the online world has become its own flex.

From celebrities flaunting their flip phones to CEOs retreating into tech-free sanctuaries, the new luxury isn’t found in things — it’s found in the absence of digital noise. A growing number of people are retreating from the always-on digital world, and doing so not just for mental clarity, but as a declaration of status. For us, this does not seem like just a lifestyle adjustment, but an actual cultural shift, with the phrase “offline is the new luxury” coining a fresh new mindset.

Brand strategist and TikTok content creator Eugene Healey argues that in our hypermediated reality created by the large array of technologies we interact with on a daily basis, the new marker of elite status is not being online at all. The irony of this opinion coming from a TikTok content creator aside, this cultural movement seems to resonate with various social groups.

Joel Cho

Earlier this year, Fortune magazine published an article by Emma Burleigh, in which the reporter explores this phenomenon. “Members of the upper class are flashing their funds in more creative ways that in some cases have nothing to do with overt spending. Privacy, leisure activities, novel items, and expressing oneself have become new touchpoints of prosperity. It’s not about having the money to afford an item, it’s about having the means to ditch hustle culture and getting ahead,” the article says.

In a world of digital oversaturation, being constantly online seems to be generating feelings of claustrophobia. The appeal of going offline isn’t purely aesthetic, it’s a reaction to burnout. Remote work, once hailed as liberating, has mutated into a culture of performative presence. People aren’t working from home — they’re living at work.

In our own professional circles, the phrase “resting” is usually code for “muted, but online,” as if the only way to recharge is to pretend we are not available while still monitoring our inboxes and professional collaboration platforms, all available on our smartphones. We’ve replaced commutes with chronic presenteeism, and even “deep work” time is monitored by the passive green dot that has apparently become the symbol of productivity.

So it does not come as a great surprise that tech-free retreats, dumbphones and analog hobbies are now becoming markers of a healthy lifestyle and social capital.

The irony is that much of this growing concept of an offline life being a new social currency is being popularized online, on platforms like TikTok. Still, the message remains relevant as younger generations — especially Gen Z — are seemingly less and less impressed with online clout. An article titled “The Latest Millennial Staple to Become Uncool? Being Online,” published in Newsweek, reported that social cachet now comes from deleting platforms, using flip phones and engaging in activities that cannot be easily captured by an algorithmic feed.

In an era where everything is visible, mystique becomes valuable. If you know the best restaurants but didn’t find them on Instagram or TikTok, that implies real-world access. If your life isn’t documented, it must be good enough to not require proof. This shift suggests true luxury is no longer about showing off but about opting out. It’s not simply digital detoxing — it’s about reclaiming your time, your focus and your attention as premium resources.

In many ways, this quiet exodus from the online world feels like a rebellion against the algorithmic life. When every moment is potentially content, choosing not to share becomes a radical act. And for a generation raised on the dopamine drip of likes and notifications, this move toward silence, privacy and presence isn’t just about health — it’s a redefinition of success.

Perhaps the next frontier of aspiration isn’t going viral or going global — it’s going away. And in that distance, the ultimate luxury is not being known, but being free.

Chyung Eun-ju (ejchyung@snu.ac.kr) is a tech research associate at Donghyun ASP. She earned both her bachelor’s in business and master’s in marketing from Seoul National University. Joel Cho (joelywcho@gmail.com) is a practicing lawyer specializing in IP and digital law.