The idea that too much of anything can become harmful is hardly an original thought. In As You Like It, William Shakespeare posed the question, "Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?" Centuries earlier, poet John Lydgate similarly warned, "For whoso hath too much of any good, of that same good he shall be soon bereft."
Both writers understood that even pleasurable things become exhausting in excess. What once felt entertaining or stimulating can eventually become mind-numbing when consumed endlessly. The current media climate, structured around limitless streams of short-form content, has overstimulated audiences, prompting many people to seek experiences that feel more meaningful, tangible, and intentional.
The social media culture many recognize today emerged in the early 2010s with platforms like Instagram and Snapchat. Yet even then, there was still a sense of intentionality in how people engaged online. Dating back to Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter, online communities often felt rooted in affinity, shared interests, and purposeful interaction.
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YouTube became a defining platform during the 2010–2015 period, when long-form content flourished. Vlogs, opinion pieces, tutorials, and niche communities encouraged sustained engagement between creators and audiences. During this era, individuals existed online, but there was still room for slower, more deliberate forms of digital consumption.
Now, in the 2020s, the pace of society's relationship with technology and media has accelerated significantly. The COVID-19 pandemic intensified this shift, as social media became the primary source of communication, entertainment, and distraction during a period of isolation and uncertainty. TikTok and other short-form platforms reshaped online behavior through algorithm-driven content designed to maximize engagement.
According to a 2021 report from Hootsuite and We Are Social, roughly 490 million new users joined social media platforms in 2020 alone—the equivalent of nearly 1.3 million people per day. As content cycles accelerated, audiences increasingly began experiencing the fatigue that accompanies constant digital consumption.
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The desire for more mesmeric and intentional forms of engagement extends beyond music and is echoed in the continued growth of long-form audio, particularly the resurgence of audiobooks.
In 2026, signs of a broader cultural shift are emerging in how people consume media, listen to music, and devote their cognitive resources. Earlier this year, the phrase “2026 is the new 2016” gained traction among Gen Z, evolving from a joke into a broader cultural conversation about nostalgia and the desire for a slower way of living, both online and offline.
Beneath the nostalgia lies something more significant than a longing for a specific era. The renewed interest in vinyl records, audiobooks, long-form podcasts, and curated listening experiences suggests a broader wave of fatigue with the speed and fragmentation that continue to define digital life. What many individuals appear to be seeking is not simply older forms of media, but ways of engaging that feel grounded and purposeful.
Media Psychologist Dr. Corey Emanuel says digital fatigue and burnout are increasingly common consequences of prolonged engagement with algorithm-driven platforms. “Psychologically, what many of us are experiencing is cognitive overload: the brain doing far more than it was designed to do at one time,” he says. “Since COVID-19, we’ve watched multiple tragedies and historic setbacks unfold in real time. That level of exposure and absorption can contribute to heightened anxiety, emotional exhaustion, sleep disruption, and even depressive symptoms.”
Emanuel also distinguishes short-form media from long-form content, noting that each shapes attention differently. “Short-form content can be beneficial because it delivers information quickly, increases accessibility, and supports microlearning. At the same time, prolonged exposure to rapid-fire content may contribute to attention fragmentation, cognitive overload, emotional fatigue, and reduced tolerance for slower forms of focus.”
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By contrast, he argues that long-form content supports “deeper comprehension, reflection, memory retention, critical thinking, and emotional processing.” The influence of algorithms extends beyond social media and continues to shape how audiences discover and consume music. According to a report by Dynamoi Music, Spotify, for example, relies heavily on algorithm-driven playlists such as Discover Weekly and Daily Mix, while Apple Music combines machine learning with human editorial curation.
One of the clearest examples of this shift can be found in the renewed interest in vinyl records. For vinyl curator and DJ James Adams, the appeal is rooted in ritual and deliberate engagement. “There’s beauty in physically placing the record on the turntable,” he says. “Holding a record feels entirely different than pressing your finger against the screen of your phone—you’ve committed to this experience."
That slower pace, he adds, is central to vinyl’s appeal. Without a skip button, listeners are encouraged to sit with their choices rather than immediately move on to the next track. “There’s intentionality baked into the entire process,” Adams says. He extends that idea beyond listening itself, pointing to the community that forms around physical music culture. The tactile nature of records encourages active listening, exchange, and shared discovery. “I’ve made so many friends in record shops,” he says. “We can’t wait to show each other what we picked up.”
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The desire for more mesmeric and intentional forms of engagement extends beyond music and is echoed in the continued growth of long-form audio, particularly the resurgence of audiobooks. Audiobook producer and narrator Andrew Joseph Perez has observed a steady rise in listener engagement over the past several years, "especially in genres like romance, which have actually helped pull the industry forward.”
Perez links that shift in part to post-pandemic behavior and digital saturation. “The pandemic gave a lot of people a moment to slow down and reassess how they spend their time. With audiobooks now always accessible, it’s easier than ever to choose long-form storytelling over fragmented content. It’s apparent now that we’re starting to find our way back to storytelling, and audiobooks are one of the ways we’re returning to that natural mode of listening.”
In a landscape optimized for speed, intentional listening offers its own form of restraint and discipline. It becomes a declaration to stay with one thing long enough for it to unfold. In this practice, what resurfaces is not a new concept but a familiar one: meaning is not consumed instantly, but continually discovered over time.
Trinity Battle is a freelance journalist investigating culture, identity, shunned realities, and transitions. Her work examines relationship dynamics, systems of power, and emotional life, with bylines in She’s Single Magazine and ReVamp Magazine, as well as in projects with the African American Male Wellness Agency. She focuses on reinvention, vulnerability, Blackness, and the forces shaping individual and collective evolution.
