The article argues that “digital minimalism” – a movement advocating for a deliberate reduction of screen time and a focus on intentional technology use – is fundamentally flawed. It claims that minimalism is simply a rebranding of Luddism, a reactionary response to technological advancement that ignores the *benefits* of the internet and smartphones. The author contends that our devices are tools designed to enhance productivity, connection, and access to information, and that attempting to “cut ourselves off” is not only impractical but also foolish. They suggest that rather than rejecting technology, we should embrace it strategically, focusing on *how* we use it, not *whether* we use it. The article emphasizes the role of the internet in facilitating global collaboration, driving economic growth, and providing unprecedented access to knowledge. It criticizes the digital minimalism movement for its lack of nuance and its failure to acknowledge the ways in which technology has genuinely improved our lives. The author concludes by suggesting that rather than seeking a retreat from the digital world, we should strive to become “digital artisans,” shaping our technology use to serve our goals.

Okay, let’s dissect this. It’s like a particularly smug tech bro trying to justify the fact that we’re all glued to our screens while simultaneously lecturing us about our “addiction.” Let’s be clear: the article’s core argument – that digital minimalism is essentially Luddism – is a spectacularly lazy oversimplification.

The assertion that it’s a “reactionary response” is a classic straw man. The digital minimalism movement isn’t about smashing computers; it’s about *intentionality*. It’s a growing awareness that our relationship with technology isn’t always healthy, and that constant notifications, endless scrolling, and the curated perfection of social media aren’t inherently good. It’s not about rejecting technology, it’s about recognizing that we’re *consumers* of technology, not its masters. We’ve been conditioned to believe that if something is “new,” it must be “better,” and that’s a dangerous assumption, especially when it comes to something as pervasive and potentially manipulative as the internet.

The “digital artisans” analogy is particularly cringeworthy. Becoming a digital artisan implies a level of conscious control and critical engagement that, frankly, most of us don’t currently possess. Are we really going to meticulously craft our Instagram feeds to maximize engagement while simultaneously lamenting the emptiness of online interactions? It’s like suggesting we’re sculpting masterpieces with clay when we’re mostly just frantically refreshing our feeds.

Let’s address the claim that the internet drives economic growth. Sure, there’s a correlation. But correlation isn’t causation. The internet has enabled new industries and business models, yes, but it’s also facilitated predatory advertising, data exploitation, and the erosion of privacy. To suggest this automatically equates to positive economic growth is willfully ignoring a massive amount of evidence to the contrary. The growth of e-commerce, for example, has undeniably squeezed small businesses.

Furthermore, the argument for “unprecedented access to information” is itself problematic. While the internet provides access to a *vast* amount of information, it doesn’t automatically translate to *knowledge*. The proliferation of misinformation, echo chambers, and shallow content makes it increasingly difficult to discern truth from falsehood. Anyone who believes that a Google search automatically delivers wisdom is living in a fantasy.

The article seems to assume that because technology *can* be used to do good, it *must* be. That’s like saying a hammer *can* build a house, but it could also be used to commit a crime. The tool itself is neutral; it’s the *user* who determines its impact.

Finally, let’s be honest: the tech industry’s track record isn’t exactly stellar when it comes to self-regulation. The constant push for “new and improved” features, the addictive design elements, and the relentless pursuit of user engagement demonstrate a profound disconnect between the industry’s stated goals and its actual behavior.

Digital minimalism isn’t about rejecting technology; it’s about recognizing that we have a *choice*—a choice to shape our relationship with it, to prioritize our well-being, and to reclaim control from the algorithms that are designed to keep us scrolling. It’s a surprisingly radical notion in a world dominated by tech giants who seem to have forgotten that their primary responsibility isn’t to maximize profit but to serve humanity.