By Jerry Zhang

As awareness grows around the importance of mental health and the impact of excessive social media use, the concept of a “digital detox” has begun gaining traction amongst Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) students. A Talker Research survey from this month revealed that 63 per cent of American Gen Z have attempted to reduce their screen time. 

While digital detox trends promote unplugging as a means to reach a state of wellbeing, students and researchers say doing so is far more complicated in practice.

As social media becomes more intertwined with all facets of life, it reveals opportunities for students to network, gain knowledge and socialize, creating a larger challenge for students who decide to disengage, complicating whether unplugging is a realistic solution or largely symbolic.

Hannah Clinton, a fourth-year creative industries student said “I wish I were able to disconnect from social media, but because of my work, it’s not really possible.” She said social media feels necessary for producing work and staying in contact with friends and classmates, making unplugging difficult. 

Clinton said she spends about four hours a day, on average, “doom scrolling.” Doom scrolling, a term created in 2020, that reflects the act of mindlessness engaging with social media content. Despite her efforts to use apps that limit her social media usage, she remains unsuccessful as she ignores the time limits. 

Clinton isn’t alone in her struggle to limit social media, across Canada young adults are actively struggling to limit their use of such platforms. Statistics Canada reveals only 57 per cent of Canadian adults were able to meet their screen time recommendation of three hours per day from 2022-24. 

For some students, attempts have been made to unplug.

Darrel Douglas, a second-year computer science student, deleted TikTok and Instagram in 2025 after realizing that the platforms were slowly deteriorating his mental health.

“I was constantly seeing people’s achievements…things about relationships, romance, all that stuff, things that make you feel jealous,” Douglas said. “I just want to distance myself from that, to reflect and start seeing the world through my own lens.”

He said his decision to unplug led to noticeable improvements.

“I slept better, I ate more, went to the gym more…productivity increased…my self-esteem actually went up because I wasn’t constantly seeing people who were doing better than me in different aspects of life,” Douglas said.

But after several months offline, Douglas reactivated his accounts. Without social media, he said he found it harder to stay connected and spot social opportunities, ultimately pulling him back in despite his positive improvements while off the platforms.

According to the Journal of the Missouri State Medical Association, experiences like Douglas’ reflect a broader misunderstanding of how heavy social media use is framed. While framing it as “addiction” has become common, experts caution that the term can oversimplify what is happening.

Josanne Buchanan, a developmental psychology and education PhD student at the University of Toronto and founder of the digital wellness platform Screenspire, said problematic screen use is not defined by time alone. Instead, she looks at whether use becomes compulsive, or disrupts essential activities such as sleep, studying, maintaining relationships and whether it weakens one’s mental health.

She said digital detoxing is part of a broader concept of digital wellness, which is achieved when “we develop intentional, authentic and balanced relationships with the technology in our life.”

Buchanan said awareness alone rarely leads to lasting change, especially when platforms are designed to keep users engaged by evoking anticipation and emotional responses. Even when students recognize that their social media habits feel unhealthy, many return out of boredom and fear of missing out, as digital spaces are deeply embedded in their daily routines.

“I definitely think [digital detoxing] is symbolic,” said Buchanan. “For a lot of people, it gives them a sense of control, almost like a way for them to prove to themselves that they can be away from all tech and still be okay.” 

She added that symbolism is not inherently meaningless. Short-term breaks can help people reassess how technology fits into their lives. The limitation, she said, is when detoxing is framed as a permanent fix rather than a reset, which seems impossible given the constant need for connectivity.

Buchanan proposed “digital minimalism” as a more sustainable approach that focuses on intentionally curating technology use, rather than quitting platforms outright.

Digital minimalism involves prioritizing “engaging with spaces and content that energize you,” she said.

Clinton said that in order to incentivize people to unplug, there needs to be a larger shift to decentralize social media, “It’s socially almost unacceptable to not be on social media.”

TMU new media associate professor Alex Bal said  placing responsibility entirely on users overlooks the economic incentives shaping digital spaces, as these platforms thrive on the attention economy.

“The longer you are within the space, the more money they are going to be making.” She said regarding why these platforms are designed to be addictive, comparing the detox to the likes of quitting smoking or drinking.

Bal said although personal discipline is crucial, platform design and institutional reliance on such platforms makes unplugging more difficult without broader structural changes.

Microsoft’s 2025 productivity data shows workers are interrupted roughly every two minutes by notifications, making it harder for those who seek productivity. Research in the Journal of Applied Physiology, Nutrition, and Metabolism shows that screen time rose during the pandemic, remaining at elevated levels.

For Douglas, the challenge is not deciding whether social media is harmful or not, but how to live with it in a way that feels sustainable.

He said he may attempt another break in the future, particularly as his anxiety becomes harder to manage. But he acknowledges the forces that may draw him back.

“If it wasn’t for boredom and fear of missing out,” Douglas said, “I’d be off it right now.”