“I almost wish I hadn’t gone down that rabbit-hole—and yet—and yet—it’s rather curious, you know, this sort of life!”
The sage words of the lovely Alice on her way to Wonderland capture the way social media has wheedled its way into our lives. Too often do we find ourselves wondering how the afternoon became evening in a flurry of incessant texts, new posts, and Italian brainrot.
Tumbling down this rabbit hole is a daily occurrence for many of us, and one that has become a conventional part of life. But as Alice says, “It’s rather curious […] this sort of life.” It is undeniably remarkable to have the entire world at your fingertips. You can communicate with anyone, anywhere, and never have to show your face. It connects billions of users in milliseconds, cultivating social networks that emerge on an unimaginable scale. It follows that we should all feel loved, supported, and connected in this virtual community, right? This wealth of connections and its ease of accessibility should augment our ability to find people with whom we relate, and spaces within which we can feel supported and thrive.
But, does it? Researchers Bonsaksen et al. examined the association between social media use and loneliness following COVID-19 and found that more time spent on social media correlated with user loneliness. They hypothesized that individuals using social media with the intention of maintaining relationships feel lonelier than those who spend the same amount of time on social media for other reasons.
A complementary study, conducted at Connecticut College, investigated the relationship between technological communication usage and the level of social skills among college students. They found that those who preferred technological communication to face-to-face interactions had inferior social skills. They also found that a greater restriction of technology in youth correlated with better social skills.
Social media restrictions became of national interest in recent years when Australia banned under-16s from using major social media services, including TikTok, Instagram, and X, in December 2025. This legislation is intended to insulate youth from harmful, distracting, and addictive content. A commissioned study by the Australian government found that the majority of social media users between the ages of 10 and 15 encountered content with psychologically harmful messaging, emphasizing the need for this measure.
It appears that the very medium which purports to bridge the gap between us not only cuts us off from one another, but actively facilitates harm. Social media can only create online //connection//, not physical //community//. It can introduce one individual to another, but lacks the organic spark: The messy, tangible, social aspect of relationships that make us human. This particularly targets students—young, bright individuals taking their first foray into a broad social climate. Social media provides us with an illusion of community that seemingly satisfies the connection we crave, but falls short in capturing the intrinsic //humanness// of in-person interaction.
The (im)perfect bubble
Human interaction, the very basis of community, has always been imperfect. It is messy and organic, yet full of life. A first date is beautiful //because// you accidentally brushed against one another’s hands in the popcorn bucket, laughed so hard you spit out your soda, and both got shushed during the movie. In icy contrast, social media is a series of bubbles, each user distorted by the translucent walls which smooth out any imperfections: Pauses, awkwardness, and blemishes.
In an interview with //The Tribune//, Kennedy O’Neil, U2 Arts, expressed her frustration with this phenomenon.
“[Social media] allows you to be pressured to feel intolerant of the natural bumps in a conversation. We have this thing against awkwardness–but awkwardness is so natural, it’s a part of human existence,” she said.
O’Neil explained that she always tries to laugh and move on from an embarrassing moment, but that there’s no avenue online to practice that maneuver. If each text is perfectly curated at all times, with autocorrect backseat-driving, when do we get any exercise in navigating the inconsistency of the everyday? There is pressure that comes with being able to control every aspect of how you communicate, from the emojis you place between your words to the identity you begin to curate for yourself.
Kathleen Casey, U2 Education, described the anxiety this can create in an interview with //The Tribune//.
“[Social media] gave you the freedom of choosing how others perceived you, but for me at least, it brought so much anxiety. It was not only exhausting to think about how my peers saw me, but it was even more so exhausting to keep up with others all the time,” she said.
Casey opted to remove herself from social platforms once it got too overwhelming.
“Deleting social media gave [me] the opportunity to create more genuine friendships with people in my social circles that I connected with on a deeper level,” she explained.
Social media has created a space of customization, where every social choice is one that you can alter. You can smooth out every pore on your nose, colour code every post in a fruitless attempt to imitate the automatons we call influencers. Not only does this demand an enormous cognitive load, but it also bleeds into how we operate in our day-to-day lives, leading us to avoid opportunities for community. So why can’t we simply remove it from our lives?
The psychological road to addiction
The addictive properties of social media have been both endlessly alluded to and joked about sarcastically online. However, addictions are most harmful when the individual is unaware of their consumption and the sheer amount of time they are losing.
In an interview with //The Tribune//, U3 Economics student Delaney Cahill echoed falling into this trap.
“When you look at your screen time and realize that you only have a certain many hours in the day—anything else with that much time spent would be beyond an addiction.”
A poll of 286 students on //The Tribune//’s Instagram found that 46 per cent of respondents spent 3-4 hours daily on social media, and 13 per cent spent over five hours.
Stanford University psychiatrist and world-leading expert on addiction, Anna Lembke, describes the smartphone as the “modern-day hypodermic needle” that we turn to for quick hits of attention, validation, and distraction. These pleasures that naturally occur in our organic community are supplied online at a much faster and concentrated rate: Around 16,000 TikTok videos are uploaded every minute. The endless fountains of fun right at our fingertips result in global depression rates and reduce our ability to find enjoyment in our in-person society.
When we are primed with so much stimulation, the pleasure we would typically get from a positive conversation or a smile from a stranger pales in comparison to the perfectly curated algorithm designed to stimulate dopamine. In the same way an alcoholic builds up tolerance that demands more and more drinks for the same effect, we are building up tolerance that requires a surplus of time in order to quench our pleasure signals.
The obsession with instant gratification reinforces the brain’s limbic system, which governs emotion and reward. This imbalance jeopardizes the work of the prefrontal cortex, affecting our decision-making, rational thinking, and even our personality and sense of self. This threat is even more pronounced for students, as their prefrontal cortices are still in development.
The key issue is that the internet does not exist in a vacuum, in which we can escape from the “real world.” It seeps into the way we process reality, altering our behaviour. Due to our strengthened limbic system, when we’re confronted with a complex problem, we turn to digital satiation, opting for the curated world that lacks imperfection. This stiff online ecosystem creates echo chambers of thought, missing the flexibility that allows us to connect.
O’Neil expressed how this rigidity impairs our ability to socialize with others,
“I think social media is creating an intolerance for any […] difference in opinion and views. As our feeds are feeding us these similar words, terms, phrases, songs, video styles, you become less tolerant of seeing anything else, and I think that translates in person.”
With our limbic brain satiated by being fed exactly what it already believes, we make no effort to connect in person with someone who might not be aligned in such a way.
Our inability to isolate our digital world from our physical one is what makes social media addiction just as overwhelming as that of a tangible substance like alcohol or drugs. The fast-paced, hedonistic caricature of social media becomes a competitor to our imperfect everyday lives. Reality cannot begin to match up, to bring the same pleasure, or satisfaction, and so what efforts are there to be made?
Where do we go now?
Are we resigned to being isolated individuals, simply skirting past one another through a masquerade of communication? The change begins with a sense of compassion for one another and understanding that no individual is entirely at fault.
“I think our generation has done the best with what we’ve been given,” Casey said. “It is not our fault that society is more individualistic than it’s probably ever been, but we’ve still had to endure it throughout our formative years.”
Overturning this demands active steps towards change. As students, we must make an effort to seek out opportunities for connection beyond the comfort of our //‘Wonderland bubble.’// We cannot remain passive by waiting for a community to come to us; We each play a role in building it. It can be scary to strike up a conversation in a coffee line, ask a new friend to hang out, or take out your earbuds before a lecture to socialize with others, but each of these steps has an impact on everyone around you, inspiring them to reacquaint themselves with others in the real world.
Student societies and clubs also ought to recognize the various ways in which students consume information. Student clubs should diversify their communication platforms and work towards not only passively accommodating student community-building but actively inspiring it. This can include sharing information in the form of posters in common spaces around campus, promoting their events at the start of classes in the form of announcements, and being more proactive on school resources like Outlook rather than mainly relying on social media platforms such as Instagram.
Nevertheless, these steps cannot rest on the shoulders of students alone. Once students have identified the issue and begin reclaiming their agency from the digital world, it is up to institutions to support them as their social climate shifts. As it currently exists, there are significant gaps in community building in universities. And although this may seem like a secondary duty of the administration, students feel its lack.
In an interview with //The Tribune//, Rachel Hilb, U2 Education, spoke about a friend who did not use social media, explaining that this choice often left her in the dark about campus happenings.
“She was so […] unaware of these things [events] on campus because so many people find out about these things through social media platforms.”
Universities such as McGill share the weight of this responsibility. Creating physical spaces, interactive workshops, and consistent program-specific events will give students an easier step into engaging with their peers.
Casey also suggested implementing more third spaces.
“Creating more third spaces within different buildings for students to hang out is important. Spaces that are designed specifically for students to hang out between/after classes. Not just desks to work at, but comfortable seating that encourages and allows for conversation and relaxation.”
This goes beyond the lounge spaces that currently exist, as few are specifically designed to facilitate peer-to-peer interaction. Those that do are often associated with a specific faculty or association, rather than aligning with the student body as a whole.
Intentionality when creating these spaces will provide a more tangible avenue designed to build community, helping guide students into taking those first shaky steps. Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, has a variety of these spaces designed not only for general student wellness but also for diverse recognition and representation. Their Fireplace Lounge features comfortable seating by a cozy fireplace, with Indigenous art displayed along its walls. The University of British Columbia houses multiple lounge-style relaxation spaces (Collegia), which are staffed by senior students and offer kitchen facilities, various study spaces, comfortable seating, and social facilitators like board games and television.
With this infrastructure provided, students would be more incentivized to try and actively put themselves in social situations that may be uncomfortable, dissatisfying, and seemingly unfruitful. Like any physical feat, skills need to be trained, which means that practice is the easiest way to actively rebuild your community.
Omitting social media entirely will not solve a fundamentally social problem. Awareness and active effort are the first steps towards building a more synergistic future. Be patient with yourself through your awkwardness, and be patient with others who are trying to reach for that connection.
