How my love of Tech pushed me to Digital Minimalism

From the earliest days I can remember, my passion for technology, electronics, and engineering was ever-present. I recall sitting at my father’s old ASUS laptop before I even knew how to write, meticulously typing out a short password from memory. It was my gateway to exploration and discovery.

One of my fondest memories is playing Windows Pinball with my dad for hours. It’s a memory that brings a smile to my face even now. He was exceptional at the game, and it only added to the hero-like image I had of him. Then came the day we somehow got GTA San Andreas installed on that laptop. It marked a new era of excitement—I would game for just an hour a day, but that hour was sacred. Every moment felt fleeting, filled with the sheer thrill of getting unlimited money with cheat codes, strapping on a jetpack, and causing havoc atop the San Andreas hospital. It wasn’t just gaming—it was a ritual after a long day at school, a reward that came only after spending time socializing and connecting with my friends and family.

When school let out, I often stayed with my aunt while my mom worked late. My cousin, who was my biggest idol back then, shared my love for tech. We would dive into marathon sessions of Pokémon on the Nintendo 64, drawing the characters, talking about them, and weaving intricate games where they came to life. Our discovery of Age of Empires and Counter-Strike 1.6 came later, leading to epic LAN parties with four to six of his friends joining in. These moments were more than games—they were laughter, strategy, and camaraderie that built unshakeable bonds.

Tech back then was an enhancement, not the center of life. It was a tool that sparked problem-solving skills, encouraged creativity, and fostered connection. My cousin and I would spend weeks trying to solve challenges, only to triumph with a joy that made every moment worthwhile.

But that was before the age of social media.

Fast forward to today: I’m now a Full Stack Developer. I still have an unwavering love for tech; the thrill of discovering a new tool or learning a new concept never fails to exhilarate me. Coding, managing servers, and tinkering with hardware are activities I cherish deeply.

However, for most people, tech no longer conjures images of discovery or problem-solving. It’s reduced to two words: Social Media.

And how I’ve grown to hate those words.

I blame social media for much of the discontent in today’s world—the widening political divide, the mental health crisis, even personal stories of hardship like my parents’ divorce. Social media is a facade, an endless highlight reel showcasing the edited best moments of life. It makes ordinary people’s lives feel insufficient, leading to a cycle of envy and dissatisfaction.

Tech, my beloved field, has been weaponized to create algorithms that keep people hooked, turning innocent users into products. The goal is no longer just to entertain or inform; it’s to manipulate for profit and control.

Even gaming, once a realm of creativity and fun, has fallen victim to the new monetized landscape. Battle passes, in-game rewards, and endless micro transactions keep players hooked in ways that have little to do with genuine fun.

One of the most heartbreaking shifts I’ve witnessed is how tech has changed social interactions. Walk into any restaurant, and you’ll see families or friends glued to their devices, absent from the moment. I see children as young as three staring at screens instead of learning to engage with the world around them. Teenagers and young adults place more importance on knowing the latest viral event—like a Jake Paul boxing match—than having meaningful conversations with the people next to them.

A personal story comes to mind: my father’s friends, a Portuguese couple, came over for dinner one evening. They brought their two children, a 21-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter. The son didn’t utter a word the entire night, eyes glued to his phone. He mentioned that he loved playing Rainbow Six Siege but showed little interest in real-world interaction. The daughter, meanwhile, spoke Portuguese with a Brazilian accent she’d learned from watching YouTube—a stark example of tech shaping even how we speak and connect. It’s terrifying to think that digital consumption has become a dominant influence on our behaviors and identities.

If you were to ask me what the greatest enemy of our society is, I’d say it’s that seemingly innocent “Like” button. The feature that turned social media into an engine of validation and addiction.

People don’t realize the extent of the social engineering behind it. The dopamine hit from seeing likes on a post creates an insidious loop of craving and seeking approval. Most of the time, the validation we receive online is superficial. People may compliment a picture but criticize it behind closed doors. “Did you see what they posted yesterday? Ridiculous!” The feedback we receive often lacks sincerity and fuels a toxic cycle of comparison.

True social approval should come from contributing positively to the world, not from how many digital thumbs-up we collect.

TikTok, Instagram Reels, YouTube Shorts—these platforms have redefined how we consume content. TikTok, in particular, is the ultimate attention trap. Its infinite scroll design is engineered to keep users hooked for as long as possible, pushing quick, mind-numbing content that erodes attention spans.

It pains me to see how this model has infiltrated other platforms, turning what could be valuable time into hours of aimless scrolling. I used to create content on TikTok, growing my following to over 130,000 with videos amassing over 8 million views. Yet, when I reflect on it, I see how little of that contributed positively to anyone’s life. How many videos from these platforms can you recall that truly enriched you? The answer is likely close to none.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but your digital life is being tracked. Every page you visit, every post you make, every interaction online—it’s all being monitored. Unless you take measures like using Tor or other privacy tools, you’re part of the digital landscape that’s sold to the highest bidder. It’s no secret that “if you’re not paying for the product, you are the product.”

Uninstall it. Delete it from your life. The fear of missing out (FOMO) is just that—fear. If people truly care about you, they’ll reach out via more personal means like a call or a message on apps like WhatsApp or Signal. If fully uninstalling social media seems too extreme, set rules for yourself. Uninstall social media apps from your phone and limit your use to once a week on your PC. This approach helps you stay connected on your terms while breaking the cycle of constant checking and scrolling.

You have two choices here:

The Radical Path: Ditch your smartphone and opt for a simple device that only makes calls and sends texts. Invest in separate tools for your needs—a dedicated camera, a GPS device, and a music player. This might sound counterintuitive for a minimalist, but each tool has a clear purpose, which adds intentionality to your tech use.

The Practical Path: Keep your smartphone, but strip it down. Remove unnecessary apps and use settings like grayscale to make it less engaging. Focus on making your phone a tool, not a distraction.

Switch to Linux. Windows, particularly after Windows 11, has become cluttered and invasive unless required for specific tasks (hello, Adobe). Linux distributions like Ubuntu and Linux Mint are user-friendly and effective. If you’re tech-savvy, give Arch a try.

Prioritize real-world interactions. While staying home to binge Netflix may be tempting, it doesn’t compare to the value of connecting with others. Human beings are wired for social interaction, and while screens can simulate connection, they’ll never replace it.

Remember, on your deathbed, you won’t wish you’d spent more time on TikTok. You’ll regret not sharing moments with loved ones, not traveling more, and not making meaningful memories.

Join clubs, meet new people, and engage in activities that nourish your spirit.

AI can be a powerful tool when used with intention. It can enhance productivity, aid in learning, and support creativity. Use it for positive and constructive changes, as I have done by leveraging AI to revise and improve my English in this very post. However, AI should never replace genuine work or creativity. Let it complement your skills, not replace them.