No, scrolling through social media is not a ‘hobby’ – when did we forget the joy of proper pastimes?

When a quarter of us consider passively consuming content to be a genuine ‘outside interest’, something has gone very wrong with the world, laments Helen Coffey

Does scrolling on your phone really constitute a hobby? (Getty)

Some of us love to go salsa dancing. Others, trekking mountain trails. And for a certain cohort, passions are stoked by... watching stuff on Tiktok?

When I recently found out that one in four of us considers scrolling through social media to be a genuine hobby, I wanted to hurl my phone into the sea and pitch my laptop down an abandoned quarry. It made my heart hurt.

One in four. That’s according to new research from the National Lottery, which found that 24 per cent of 4,000 Brits surveyed – representing the equivalent of 12.8 million people – would count flicking their thumb or index finger listlessly up and down a screen as a bona fide pastime. One in 10 admitted they didn’t have any other “hobbies”. Four in 10 said they spent the majority of their spare time screen-scrolling and watching TV. A third recognised that the amount of time they spend on social media is literally stopping them from pursuing other interests.

Now, before you go thinking I’m one of those weirdos who builds an entire personality around not owning a television, or has only used a burner phone since 2013 because “they’re watching us”, I’ll happily hold my hands up and say I’m as pathetic an addict as the next millennial or Gen Z-er. Upon waking, rather than spending the first precious moments of my day meditating, or dream journalling, or listening to the soul-swelling birdsong outside the window, I reach for my device, eyes still half-closed, and mindlessly watch videos of Taylor Swift fans crying or clips of GB News presenters being embarrassing.

These things provoke neither joy nor anger, but a state of mind best described as pure, unadulterated ambivalence. It is just something to do until my brain switches on enough to coordinate taking a shower; a procrastination tool I can pass off as “crucial” to ensure I’m up to speed with whatever has most recently entered the zeitgeist of Internet Things.

You know how powerful that addiction is? I just stopped writing this article for 12 solid minutes because even mentioning social media caused me to unlock my phone, open Twitter – I’m still not calling it X, despite Elon’s best efforts – and refresh the timeline. Terrifyingly, I didn’t even realise I was doing it. The experience was not dissimilar to Raymond Shaw being “activated” with special codewords to assassinate the president in the 2004 film The Manchurian Candidate.

If I’m mad at anybody here, it’s me – for letting my attention be so easily commandeered by the apps. But one thing I am at least aware of is that this absent-minded activity does not constitute a “hobby”. If anything, it’s the opposite. A hobby, to my mind, suggests some kind of passion and active engagement, whether that be mental or physical.

The activities I’d list as real hobbies – when I do manage to gently peel myself away from the screens’ perpetual siren song – all involve some kind of doing. Running; practising yoga; dancing like a mad woman at Zumba; singing and playing the ukulele; sea swimming and going to the sauna; calling the occasional ceilidh (you’ve got to throw at least one truly niche choice into the mix, if only to use as an icebreaker during team-building exercises).

No one would refer to “watching TV” as a hobby; this slack-jawed, brain-in-the-ashtray activity is generally something we do mindlessly at the end of a long day. And, arguably, scrolling the socials is even worse. There’s certainly an argument that making content for social media is a legitimate hobby. But, like binge-watching a boxset, scrolling is the antithesis of creating. It is, rather, passive consumption of content other people have created.

Looking through social media can steal hours at a time (Getty)

It’s why, when you suddenly “come to” having spent 20 minutes in a fugue state sitting on the toilet while taking in post after post on Instagram, you feel a bit... hollow. A kind of mental malaise – a brain slump, if you will – has descended; the evening has been lost, but you know not where. This experience of the hours melting away can be equally applicable to true hobbies, but the resulting feeling is a world away. After doing something I love, I always lament the fact that the time has whipped by so quickly, but come out of it feeling energised. If I’m lucky, my soul will feel replenished, my cup brimming over.

The reason we should distinguish between pastimes and ways of passing the time isn’t snobbery, or to make others feel guilty about what they choose to do with their lives outside work – it’s to emphasise that the former should make existence feel fuller and richer. The latter will more likely make you feel drained of some fundamental life force. Like any addiction, it takes more than it gives.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

It’s not all bad news: though one in four of us might currently consider scrolling a valid hobby, there is appetite for change. Three out of five adults (59 per cent) harbour hidden desires to try something new, according to the National Lottery’s research. Two-fifths (38 per cent) want to break the digital habit and are actively trying to reduce the amount of time they spend on Insta, Tiktok, Twitter et al, while a quarter (23 per cent) are even considering getting rid of social media altogether in a bid to pursue more diverse interests. More power to them.

My favourite line of poetry is found in Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day”. “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?”, she writes. “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? If your answer is “scroll on social media”, perhaps it’s time to hurl your phone into the sea.