how to stop scrolling: 6 tactics, from phone distance to deleting the apps

Huberman's diagnosis is blunt. many people, on the transcript, "have given themselves a low-grade ADHD or ADD because of the way that they move through their world." the phone makes that easy: it is small, so your eyes lock on it, and "a movie is worth 10,000 pictures," so motion on a feed beats words on a page.

the tactic: make the phone hard to reach while you work. for a focused bout he turns the Wi-Fi off and says "I put my phone in the other room." if he still walks back: "I will take the phone and lock it in the car outside." he has gone further: "I've thrown it up on my roof before so I can't get to it until the end of the day." his line on why: "That thing is pretty compelling."

try this week: for one work block a day, put the phone in another room before you start. if you still fetch it, lock it in a car, drawer or upstairs for the rest of that block.

Yousef's point is that attention dies under constant pings. on the transcript she says attention has been "linearly decreasing since the advent of this thing," and it is not only phones: "it's notifications in general." when people fear missing a real emergency, she does not tell them to suffer. she gives them a filter.

the tactic: set VIP notifications, and silence the rest. "I would recommend setting up what I call VIP notifications" on the phone, inbox and chat apps. VIPs are partner, boss, top clients: the people who get to knock. everything else goes in the mailbox. her shorthand elsewhere: "turn the notifications off" and "put your phone outta sight, outta mind."

try this week: make a VIP list of five people. allow only those numbers and emails to break through Do Not Disturb. silence every other app for seven days.

Holiday watches people pick up a fight they did not need. on the transcript: "they took up the phone and they scrolled through" and the phone "magically serves up the outrage." his own fix is structural, not motivational: "I don't have any of them on my phone either" and "I don't know the password to the Daily stoic or my personal Twitter account." if he needs to post, someone else does it. his reason: "I have enough inputs."

the tactic: delete the social apps, and lose the login. then replace the reflex with a walk. every morning he tries to go outside with his kids: "I try not to bring the phone."

try this week: delete one social app from your phone. change the password to something you do not know, stored with a partner or password manager you will not open casually. take one walk a day without the phone.

Harris did not taper. on the transcript: "Twitter was me, for better or worse," and it had become his news feed and first point of contact. then, on Thanksgiving, with almost no deliberation: "I just ripped the Band-Aid off." the result: "There's no question there's an addictive component to it." the feeling after: "It was like I amputated a phantom limb."

the tactic: leave the one platform that runs your mood. he was not looking for a substitute. he closed the account that was him, and let the phantom limb go quiet.

try this week: name the one app that most owns your mood. delete it from the phone for seven days, or deactivate the account. do not install a replacement the same week.

Greene's complaint is flatness. on the transcript: "everything has been flattened out by social media." he looks at his Instagram feed of cat videos and says after the third one "it's all programs, it's all algorithms." later he catches himself: watching animal clips, he notices "it's an emotional thing that it's playing on."

the tactic: put the phone away outside, then watch what the feed does to you. riding in Griffith Park he sees people glued to earphones and says "when you're out in nature you can put your phone away." the indoor version is the audit: notice which posts make you angry or fascinated on purpose, and step back before you react.

try this week: take one walk or park visit with the phone in a bag, not in your hand. the next time you open a feed, pause after three posts and name the emotion it is trying to pull.

Huberman names the problem mid-conversation. on the transcript: "It's called social media." Adolphs: "Exactly. Yes. Of which I have none." his rule is absolute: "Not on X, I'm not on Facebook, I'm not on Instagram." when people offer LinkedIn, he says "Why would I be? I'm already above 100% in terms of people emailing me. I don't need more." he wants the quiet needed to train emotional control: if you are "constantly bombarded," you never get that leisure.

the tactic: go to zero social media on purpose. not a detox weekend. a standing decision that your inputs are already full.

try this week: pick one week with no social apps and no social sites in the browser. keep email and messages. notice what you reach for when the feed is gone.