The Tamesis
In 2025, we’re all starting to realize that maybe we’ll allow ourselves to become addicted to the whole internet thing. This makes sense. Although the seeds of what would eventually become the internet first took root in 1969, the World Wide Web took off in the ’90s, leading to the internet’s peak in the early 2010s, when Twitter was the butt of jokes at award shows and our Instagram feeds were filled with weirdly filtered images of sunsets or people’s latest meals.
Now that we’ve been unable to escape the algorithm for two decades, words like “doomscrolling” and “slop” have entered our lexicon in ways we can’t take back. For many people, the urge to “get off the internet” is starting to feel quite urgent, just as Le Tigre’s unforgettable song from 2001 (!!!) – if only we had listened to it – started to feel quite urgent.
When I set a 30-minute time limit for Instagram on my phone, if I feel like I’m doing something important (which I never am), it’s too easy to hit “Ignore time limit” and keep scrolling. Like those who have dealt with the consequences of their own stupidity in late night infomercials of the past, I thought to myself, There must be a better way!
I’m not sure where I first encountered Brick, but I know I immediately believed in its power, clicked on links in whatever article I was reading and promptly purchased it. The Brick is a small, square device that lets you block your phone from accessing any app or website you choose. The trick is that unlike alerts on your phone, which are easily dismissed, you need to stand next to the tile to access the content again. Yes, I banned myself from Instagram, and also TheRealReal — I’ve been known to spend my entire day browsing both sites (I gave up on Twitter long ago, and after the brief “End of TikTok in the U.S.” episode last December, I didn’t feel the need to re-download TikTok).
The difference is immediate. I put the Brick on my bedside table and began to experience a weekend without social media. When friends share stories and posts with me, I just say, “I can’t see! I’m bricked!” which either results in a screenshot or “oh, it’s not that important anyway.” (Another reaction was a giggle, because I discovered that “bricked” meant something completely different…which naturally only made me want to say more.)
