When was the last time that I sat in my room, with no distractions near me, all of my undone work outside of my mind and seriously reflected on myself, my emotions and my decisions? I cannot remember. Much less, who would waste their valuable time when everyone else is out partying? The fear of FOMO would devour me before I even crossed my legs to meditate.
This is a problem not only for me — although I humbly recognize it — but also for modern culture. The act of reflection is not restricted to self-contemplation but extends to activities such as prayer, meditation and intentional journaling. In a 2021 survey, only 45 percent of Americans reported that they pray daily, compared to 58 percent who said the same in 2007. Interestingly, 29 percent of Americans identify as “religious nones” — which means they identify as atheists or agnostics and seldom practice anything religious. Church attendance has also dropped significantly; Catholics in particular only attend service 35 percent of the time.
Meditation, on the other hand, has gained traction, especially after the pandemic. There is even a “meditation market,” so to speak: the hundreds of apps, websites, music and other meditation accessories and products being developed and commercialized. By 2029, the meditation market is expected to exceed $19 billion. Even sleep, which is traditionally understood as a natural act for humans, is now an activity that 35 percent of Americans feel technology is necessary for. The Calm App — the main driver behind technological sleep assistance — has plugged endorsements from fitness influencers, medical professionals and various celebrities into their $300 million revenue generation machine.
This is not to say that people no longer practice technology-free prayer and meditation. But there is a clear trend of reliance on technology — and along with it, profits to be generated from people’s need for alone time and self-reflection.
Especially for us Yale students. Amidst the Google Calendar time blocking and every scheduled meal, it can feel that although we are in control of our time — in the sense that we plan what we do specifically with our time constantly — it often does not translate into productivity, inspiration or better mental health.
Technology, rather than freeing us, seems to commercialize, hyper optimize or salami-slice our time. Often, once we finish one task, we feel obligated to move on to the next; and if we have finished everything on our to-do list, we do not hesitate but immediately search for more things to add and scratch off. Even so-called restful moments, at least from what I have seen from my friends, involve a scheduled meal with others and matcha or coffee with our laptops open, thinking about what to do next.
This specific exercise that I am describing — intentional alone time that involves meditation and prayer for a meaningful duration, at least 15 minutes — is an activity that is absent from most of our daily lives. The 20th-century German philosopher Martin Heidegger prophesied this sentiment early in his essay “The Question Concerning Technology,” in which he proposed the concept of “the Standing Reserve.” For Heidegger, the way humans use technology in the modern world “enframes” technology. The objects that lie in nature are gathered together by us — hence the “en” — and are “framed” in a specific way for our future use. Natural resources thus become “standing reserves” which lie in waiting for future enframing and extraction. However, now, instead of using technology, people use meditation and mindfulness — prayer to a much lesser extent — as a method to hone one’s own mind as a resource to harvest productivity from in the future.
One of the primary reasons why people report taking meditation is for better focus during work. Companies have instituted meditation practices for employees to increase profit and productivity while decreasing absenteeism and sick days. The modern turn away from prayer and the increased commercialization of meditation often do not hold the purposes of reflection, self-examination and emotional development as their primary goal, but rather use them as the means to increasing shareholder value, GPA or maximizing 401(k) contributions.
Do we still have the capacity to think just to think? Eat just for the food? The same genuine sentiment that we wish for in the conversations we share with our friends ought to be applied to our relationship with our own minds. All of us want our friends to talk to us because they enjoy talking to us, not for external, opportunistic reasons. We should apply the same lesson to meditation, eating and prayer.
So as I sat in my room, I understood that I needed to spend more time alone and purposefully reflect. But then my fellow friends texted me about Sig Chi, so I left and went there so I didn’t feel left out.
THOMAS LIN is a first year in Morse College. His biweekly column “God and Man at Yale” offers a Christian perspective on campus life and politics. He can be reached at thomas.lin@yale.edu.