The fading joy of online connection

When the world went into lockdown in 2020, our screens became lifelines. They were classrooms, workplaces, stages, and coffee shops. They carried the weight of our friendships, our studies, and our sanity. It was the only way to retain a sense of normalcy during the pandemic – we were constantly online, and it didn’t feel optional. Five years later, that sense of always being on hasn’t faded. If anything, it has become more entrenched. We live in an age of unparalleled connectivity. Our phones buzz from the moment we wake up to the moment we collapse back into bed, chasing sleep through a blue-lit haze. The digital world hasn’t just merged with real life; for many of us, it has become the default. According to a Nielsen report from 2018, the average adult spends more than 11 hours a day consuming digital media. Yet, what once promised connection now seems to be draining it: many of us are feeling more anxious, unmotivated, and disconnected than ever before. While the internet revolutionised productivity and entertainment, it also ushered in a new epidemic: digital burnout. 

Digital burnout is more than just being tired of your phone. It’s a form of emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion resulting from prolonged digital interaction. It’s the result of overstimulation: endless notifications, social feeds, work messages, and the subtle pressure to stay updated, responsive, and relevant. Despite spending 7.2 hours every day online, 73% of Gen Z report feeling digitally exhausted. Your brains never get to log off. We used to have natural boundaries between work, study, and rest. Now, your workspace, your social space, and your entertainment space are all in your pocket. It’s no wonder students are exhausted, they’re living three lives through one device. 

The symptoms and effects of digital burnout vary, including difficulty concentrating, headaches, and feeling inexplicably low after hours online, doomscrolling late into the night. The paradox is striking, in an age of unparalleled connectivity, many people feel more isolated than ever. The very tools designed to bring us closer together seem to have heightened feelings of loneliness and disconnection. 

The pandemic rewired our brains; we learned to associate being online with being productive and socially available.

During the Covid years, the internet carried an almost utopian promise – that connection could transcend distance. Virtual quizzes, TikTok trends, and digital concerts gave people a sense of belonging in isolation. That digital euphoria has since soured. The pandemic rewired our brains; we learned to associate being online with being productive and socially available. Even now, when things are back to normal, people feel the need to be reachable 24/7. For instance, a 2023 Gallup poll showed that 67% of remote workers report working beyond office hours due to digital accessibility. Such patterns of over-connection often manifest as what may be described as ‘screen guilt’ and ‘productivity anxiety’. When you’re on a screen, you want to work, and when you’re not on a screen, you’re missing out because everyone else is. 

The irony of digital burnout is that it often masquerades as connection. You scroll to feel close to others, only to feel worse afterwards. You share a post hoping to express yourself, then anxiously monitor how it’s received. Over time, even joy online can start to feel transactional, messages replacing laughter with friends or comments standing in for conversation. 

There was a time when the internet symbolised optimism, acting as a new frontier of creativity, community, and freedom. Early social media users saw it as a space of endless possibilities. Such idealism has since dimmed. The feeds once filled with friends’ updates now overflow with ads, influencer content, and algorithmic noise. Digital spaces feel less like communities and more like crowded marketplaces. The constant noise of notifications, recommendations, and FOMO keeps the nervous system in a low-level state of stress. That’s not connection; that’s conditioning. 

This emotional fatigue contributes to what can only be described as the ‘fading joy’ of online connection. The novelty is gone. Instead of wonder, there’s weariness – an awareness that every click feeds a system designed to keep us scrolling. Even platforms once known for creativity, like TikTok, now leave many users feeling drained rather than inspired. As many say, our phones listen to us. You talk about buying something for your friends, and suddenly your feed is full of it. You like one post, and the algorithm keeps feeding you similar things to keep you in. It’s designed to trap you. 

“Talking online versus talking in person is quite different. In person, you see their emotions, their laughter, their reactions. Online, you can overread or overthink what they’ve sent. It’s just not the same.”

– Student Survey Responder

Still, out of that exhaustion, resistance is growing. Movements advocating for digital minimalism, ‘slow tech’, and offline living are gaining traction. It’s not about demonising technology. It’s about reclaiming control. If we can make conscious decisions about how we engage online, we can rebuild that sense of joy that once existed without the burnout. 62% of Gen Z globally struggle to build meaningful relationships, with one survey responder sharing, “Talking online versus talking in person is quite different. In person, you see their emotions, their laughter, their reactions. Online, you can overread or overthink what they’ve sent. It’s just not the same.” This desire for ‘real’ relationships is less prevalent amongst Baby Boomers, where only 58% feel the difficulty around building deeper connections. This suggests that the prevalence of online communication in younger generations is influential in the loneliness Gen Z are experiencing. 

The psychological effects of digital burnout extend beyond fatigue. Prolonged overexposure to screens and social comparison can intensify anxiety, depression, and body image issues. Notifications act like microbursts of adrenaline, training the brain for constant anticipation. The result is restlessness and an inability to truly relax. These feelings contribute to the ‘highlight reel’ effect – the pressure to present a polished version of life online, even when feeling low offline. 

So how do we heal from digital burnout without disconnecting entirely? Experts suggest that the solution isn’t total abstinence but intentionality and creating small, meaningful boundaries. A study from the University of Pennsylvania found that just 30 minutes of daily social media use significantly reduced anxiety and depression over three weeks, highlighting just how damaging overuse can be. 

Here are some strategies you can explore: 

1. Digital detox – Designate one day a week with no social media or unnecessary screen time.
2. Notification control – Disable non-essential alerts to reduce constant stimulation.
3. Device-free zones – Keep phones out of bedrooms or study areas to separate rest from work. 
4. Mindful scrolling – Ask yourself: Why am I opening this app right now? 
5. Real-world connection – Schedule in-person catchups to counter digital fatigue. 
6. Low-saturation – Change the settings on your phone to make the screen less saturated. This will make you bored of your phone quicker and reduce dependency. 

The goal isn’t to disappear from the internet; it’s to show up consciously. When we use technology deliberately, it serves us instead of consuming us. 

The next decade will reveal whether younger generations continue to embrace constant connectivity or rebel against it. Signs of rebellion are already emerging: flip phones making a comeback, Gen Z-led movements promoting ‘boring’ offline hobbies, and apps like BeReal encouraging authenticity over perfection. The rebellion isn’t about quitting the internet but redefining what connection means. It’s about slowing down, being ‘real’ again. 

If that’s true, then digital burnout, as painful as it feels, might also be a turning point. A reminder that connection – real connection – has always required presence, patience, and imperfection. Screens may connect us instantly, but meaning still takes time. 

Digital burnout is not a niche problem. It’s a collective symptom of our times, of a world that never stops refreshing. Yet, amid the exhaustion, there’s hope. The fact that we feel burned out means we’re aware something’s wrong. Awareness is the first step toward change. 

Maybe the joy of online connection isn’t gone; it’s just buried beneath the noise. The challenge now is to dig it out, to log on with purpose, to scroll with care, and to remember that the most meaningful notifications are the ones that happen face-to-face.