Turning the Algorithm Upside Down: The Opt-Out Family
An interview with former social media influencer Erin Loechner
Once upon a time, my livelihood relied on maintaining a social-media presence. As an influencer, I was successfully running a six-figure platform by writing and photographing multimedia campaigns for Target, Martha Stewart, Pinterest, and hundreds of other brands you know, use, and love. I taught digital workshops in a boutique studio of Singapore, modeled a slow fashion campaign in the Taj Mahal, and twirled pasta with Maria Shriver and Hoda on “The Today Show”. But with every algorithm change—from loosened privacy policies to tighter regulations on speech—a niggling feeling crept into my consciousness: How much more will I feed to this machine? And what will it spit out in return?
from The Opt-Out Family by Erin Loechner
I have to admit, as
and I are not TV watchers or social media followers, neither of us had heard of Erin Loechner until a couple of months ago when I learned about her upcoming book The Opt-Out Family (which is hitting bookstore shelves today). One thing I did know however, is that I was curious to learn why a highly successful influencer would “cancel” herself and decide to step away from the online world, and more importantly, how she chose to live life differently with her family.I’ve read a great many books on social media/ digital tech impact and management, so I was not sure that I was going to encounter new information or a unique perspective. I figured that, like a lot of people who write about how to use technology in our personal lives, Erin would hedge, qualify, or get lukewarm. I understand that. We’re all anxious not to step on other people’s toes. But I was in for a surprise.
The book was not only filled with extensive research, fascinating insider information, and concrete, practical guidance, but presented a firm stand on the need to change course in our family tech use without being preachy. Erin’s forthrightness is also evident in today’s interview, and I especially appreciated her answer to our 18-year old daughter’s question, “Is there a ‘healthy’ way to be on social media?”:
…I know the more palatable answer here is to speak of digital well-being and balance and how to successfully navigate the algorithm in a way that we can consume the good without the bad. But we can’t. Just like any mind-altering drug we might ingest, social media makes it so we are not in control of the experience we’ll have immediately after…
Erin’s Opt-Out Family movement is part of the organizations aligned with Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation. So if you have been following along the writings on
, , , , , , , , or other similar publications, today’s conversation will give you the inside view of a social media influencer who has chosen to swim against the current when it comes to tech use and offer practical starting steps to navigating daily life in a digital age (and yes, we did talk about the contradiction of using a tech platform to talk about tech-free living).You were among the internet trailblazers and garnered a following of 1.4 million people. Was there a specific event or situation that prompted you to reconsider your lifestyle as an influencer, ultimately leading you to “cancel” yourself?
I would like to say there was just one moment—I do love a tidy before-and-after!—but the honest truth is that there were far too many events to pen, and, like most humans, I often justified those situations as “part of the job.” I plowed through contradicting values for many years—this was my livelihood, and also my life. I had been given a platform that had the immense capacity to create change on a large scale, which seemed a weighty honor, and one that I felt the responsibility to steward well. Wouldn’t it be irresponsible to walk away from the opportunities I’d been given?
But as I became more and more privy to the inner workings of the algorithm, of the pitch decks and influencer asks and brand requests that capitalized on vulnerability, humanity, and relational empathy en masse (“Any chance you can cry in your car, maybe share on Insta Stories? If it feels authentic? We plan to boost this campaign.”), there was a clear erosion of values now at risk. I’d already known from my HGTV.com show that product trends stem from years of demographic research and sociological forecasting. But now, the conversations in conference rooms and board meetings I sat in weren’t talking about trending products. They were talking about trending people. It became clear that the medium I was participating in was designed to devalue our humanity for the sake of a sweater on sale.
I do remember one moment when I was flown into Chicago to consult with a children’s craft brand on how they could grow their presence on Pinterest. I led a three-day workshop intensive, and at the end, the founder approached me with gratitude. “These craft moms are going to be glued to their feeds!” she said. It was a moment that could have felt celebratory if not for a deeper pang of regret: Then who will craft with their kids?
I feel fortunate that these pangs and rumblings grew as did my children (now almost twelve, eight, and four), and I recognized that if I were to march to the predetermined pace of the algorithm, I’d be parenting a lot more often with a phone in my hand than without. I also knew these social media platforms—as they existed at the time, and sadly, still exist today—were no place for a child to visit. Ever. I wanted something different for my kids (truly, all kids), and I was willing to go first. I thought, If I can carry on doing the work I love without a social media presence, then it must not be as inevitable or necessary as society makes it out to be? (I was right.)
began his Front Porch Republic conference talk with, “I have just flown 4000 miles to talk to you about localism”; Peco and I face a similar contradiction in that we are using an internet platform to encourage people to use technology less. How do you approach the same contradiction of using a tech platform -- which you even recently critiqued -- to promote a book on tech-free living?I so value this question, Ruth, because it is a necessary one. It reminds me of the time nearly a decade ago when I was pulled over for going seven miles per hour over the speed limit on my way to an author reading and book signing of my first memoir, aptly titled Chasing Slow. ;)
I will first give all credit and gratitude to my publisher, Zondervan, who agreed to my wild whims of publishing a book with only a shred of internet influence to my name. When I offered the manuscript idea, I had already deactivated all social media channels with no intentions of returning. My editor, recognizing that this was a lived message that carried deep conviction, obliged my request to publish this book a different way. And so we have.
I (and I imagine many of us) hold various boundaries surrounding my own personal tech usage. One is that I don’t like to participate in algorithm-based platforms for many reasons, but at the top of the list is that I firmly believe in the biblical wisdom that is counting the cost before building the tower. And these platforms are just that—towers of unknown cost. We are not privy to where they are going, nor where they will end. To that notion, I am not opposed to the sharing of ideas—books or otherwise—on the internet. But it is important to me that if I am “hanging my hat” in a digital home, I can accurately count the cost of my participation, and that content structures, community expectations, and curation algorithms are 100 percent transparent. I will never shy from that truth, even though it’s often masked by many other truths: for example, Substack hosts fantastic writers and thinkers and is certainly a producer of some of the sounder ideas in our modern society.
So, for me, I suppose I approach that contradiction with gratitude as I periodically visit lovely spaces like this, with the recognition that there are other creators who have counted the cost and find these platforms to be of immeasurable worth, or, at the very least, of high enough value to house said brilliant ideas.
Were you met with any resistance when you made your move toward an “opt-out” lifestyle? For example, what were some of the conversations you had about this choice professionally and at home?
Truth be told, I am wildly surprised by how little resistance there was. Ruth, I have never been more convinced that people are so very weary of this world we’ve built, now more than ever.
In the early days of our opt-out lifestyle, there were only a few raised eyebrows, and those were mostly rooted in challenging our commitment to raise children without personal devices. There seems to be an argument that if we limit technology in our household, our children won’t know how to balance a digital lifestyle once they’ve moved on from our household and are out in the world. (Worth noting: one conversation with my local zookeeper about how their resident chimpanzees are using iPads blew that argument to bits for me.) But truthfully, I’m of the school of thought that I’d rather teach my children to build a healthy foundation of habits to return to when the world feels dysregulating, rather than begin the dysregulation process for the sake of a premature learning opportunity.
And I think I’m not alone in that, and if I ever was, I am no longer. We are so blessed to have such massive amounts of research at our disposal regarding what these devices are doing to our minds, and certainly the minds of our children. So now, when the raised eyebrows come my way, I find that people are no longer asking: “Why opt out?” Instead, they are asking, “How?”
Whenever I research the topics Peco and I write about, I am struck anew by the disturbing content that children encounter, the frequency at which this happens, as well as the deliberately addictive designs of the digital world. When you started to dig into the harmful realities of “the algorithm”, what did you find most alarming?
Oh, Ruth. It is worse than I ever realized (and I say that boldly, with the admission that I am a deeply hopeful person by nature.). In fact, when writing this book, I was struck by how many content moderators I interviewed used the word “when,” not “if,” when asked about the likelihood of children being served inappropriate images and videos in their feeds.
I think language matters deeply, and I appreciate that we are now beginning to collectively hold social media platforms accountable for an estimated “body count” of children dying due to smartphone algorithms: over fifteen thousand deaths of children per year. (For reference, that number totals more childhood deaths than drowning, car accidents, poisoning, and firearms combined.)
I am concerned about this, mostly because it will take legislators years to turn the ship around, a truth I hold while being deeply grateful to the ones who are working tirelessly at the helm. It has never been clearer to me that it’s up to us—the brave, revolutionary parents and the bold generation they’re raising—to create a brighter future for our kids. The fact is that Silicon Valley has given our kids a playground that is unfit for use, and we can no longer accept a bit of yellow caution tape upon entry. It’s time to find a new playground altogether.
I am reminded of a conversation I had with a Silicon Valley developer years ago who predicted, accurately, that Big Tech isn’t after only your attention. It’s after your companionship. Your mind and, mostly, your heart. Intimacy. Togetherness, closeness, understanding. Warmth.
from The Opt-Out Family
One of the unique aspects of your book is that you turn the basic principles of “the algorithm” upside down and instead apply them to encourage deeper connections within our homes and families. Can you explain this further?
Well, the idea began with our own personal family motto, which is to “Be More Engaging Than the Algorithm.” My husband worked at Apple’s ad agency (thumbprint access, the whole nine yards), and, paired with my own concerns about the inner workings of social media, we knew early on that we were going to aim to be an opt-out family no matter what. But we also recognized that it wasn’t enough to say no to devices; we needed to say yes to something better on the other side.
And so I got curious. What is it specifically about these devices that captivate, lure, and engage us so deeply, and what can we as parents learn from every one of them? I embarked on a mission to find out how Minecraft designers present a challenge that’s just difficult enough but not completely demotivating. I asked TikTok how to create an enticing environment that feels fun and creative and delightful. I interviewed top content creators on how to gain trust, how to earn influence, how to build community. I reached out to Apple designers about how to form habits, with start-up venture capitalists on prioritizing decision-making, with Meta employees on how to shift culture, and with AI engineers on human conversation and compelling communication. As I compiled all this research into the book, it became clear: we can succeed in these strategies far better in our households than Silicon Valley ever could, with our very human limitations in our very messy households and our very real families. Whether we know it or not, we have the upper hand. And my hope is that this book shows parents precisely why that’s true and what it means (and of course, how to put all these tactics into play in their own homes).
One of the reasons I don’t own a cell phone is because I know that I would find it utterly distracting, hard to resist, and my brain and body would forever feel in a different place. In your view, every benefit of a smartphone comes at an immeasurable cost. Can you expand on this idea?
Yes, yes, and yes. I am in complete agreement with you that the smartphone has a way of disassociating ourselves from the present moment in ways we can never fully realize. My friend works at a university that just completed a wild study about this; it turns out the mere presence of a smartphone in the same room as you—even if it’s on silent mode, not in use, or in a drawer—offers distraction and equates to lower brain function. We’re not crazy; smartphones affect us deeply on a cellular level. (Sidenote: I’m the wife of a husband with a brain tumor, so you can imagine there are many reasons why this bears much importance!)
But even if we’re simply looking at the smartphone issue from a risk-versus-reward perspective, it’s a bit of a wash. Smartphones make it easier to save time and easier to waste time. Easier to deposit a check, easier to spend said check. Easier to furnish a home, easier to neglect a home. And for the case of so many children we know and love:
Easier to find herself, easier to lose herself.
Peco and I have frequently emphasized that when we step away from tech, we simultaneously need to fill the vacuum left behind with real life relationships and activities. Can you provide some favorite examples of “opting in” to something better?
One concrete example is a crossword puzzle I keep in my living room. Seven or eight years ago, I grew really disenchanted with the idea of relying on Google or Siri to feed us knowledge, recognizing how quickly knowledge crowds out wisdom. I wanted to get comfortable with the idea of either (a) not knowing the answer I seek, or (b) relying on an offline, in-person source to guide me toward it. Thus, the community crossword puzzle was born. Whenever someone comes over, I ask them to help me through whatever clue I’m stuck on that day—4A, 36D, everything between!—and I’m always reminded that people all around can surprise us with their brilliance and wit on the regular.
To that end, the crossword puzzle is almost always finished quite quickly, because I find myself keeping an open, regular invitation with friends and family. We host teatime for a group of young mothers and their babies and toddlers every week—my kids are in charge of the whole flock so we mothers can sip our coffee while it’s still hot (a rarity!) and complete a sentence or two (even more so!)—and we hold a standing weekend hike with a few different families. For all else, there’s an open-door invite at pretty much any hour; our community knows just to come over, no text needed. I’m far better at answering the door than the phone!
There are different methods of assessing tech use and setting goals in reducing our dependence. We recently shared an Unmachining Self-Assessment to help readers reflect on their device use. How would you recommend families begin to assess their tech use and goals for a healthier relationship with tech?
I love the idea of your self-assessment! One guiding question I often encourage parents to ask, as gently and lovingly as possible, is this: Would I want my children to use technology the same way I do?
I also think it’s important to pay special attention to areas in which certain principles outweigh other goals. Often without realizing it, we are lulled by the ease of technology into habits and rhythms that don’t support our deeply held values. Perhaps you value open and honest communication, active listening, and expressing thoughts and feelings in a constructive manner, but it’s far easier to send a text. Maybe you value resilience, challenges, and rising above mundane or difficult tasks, but Amazon is just a click away. Maybe you value togetherness, prioritizing quality time as a family, engaging in shared activities, and creating lasting memories, but everyone’s zoned out on their screens. Maybe you value feedback and constructive criticism, until you get a negative comment on social media. Maybe you value upholding moral and ethical principles, being truthful and accountable, and acting with integrity in all aspects of life, but no one sees what’s on your personal device.
I’ve found that once we begin naming and evaluating our technology use through the lens of values, blindly marching to the beat of Big Tech gets a lot harder.
Free guide to ChatGPT (Chat Goals, Principles, and Truths)—no sign-up or opt-in necessary, just a simple PDF!)
This question comes to you from our 18-year old daughter: Having been an influencer in the realm of social media, what advice would you have for young women in their device use? Is there a “healthy” way to be on social media?
Oh, friend. I wish I could say there was a healthy way to be on social media, and I probably once thought there was, but to offer my raw, unfiltered opinion: I no longer believe there is. I think of social media usage as akin to the use of mind-altering drugs (after all, social media use does, in fact, alter the mind). But it’s perhaps worse, because there are many social pressures and acceptable norms encouraging smartphones in a way that do not exist for, say, heroin. After all, few of us bring a hypodermic needle to shoot up under the table of our local bistro, but how many of us have dined with someone Instagramming the charcuterie spread?
It is concerning how quickly we as a society overinflate the benefits of social media to justify what the research has now proven: these platforms do more harm than good. Social media usage is directly linked to some of the most disturbing outcomes for our children to be exposed to: eating disorders, isolation, mental health decline, child porn, depression, self-harm, anxiety, and suicide (the list goes on). And it is a direct deterrent to some of the most amazing experiences for our children to be exposed to: fresh air, group activities, healthy risks, childhood innocence, free play, and critical thinking.
I know the more palatable answer here is to speak of digital well-being and balance and how to successfully navigate the algorithm in a way that we can consume the good without the bad. But we can’t. Just like any mind-altering drug we might ingest, social media makes it so we are not in control of the experience we’ll have immediately after. And I can no longer see any potential reward in delivering our God-given brains to a tatted group of tech bros in Silicon Valley.
(Intense, I know. I wish I had something more hopeful to report!)
One of the reasons we decided to share your work is because we want to offer readers practical tools for navigating daily life in the digital world. What encouragement would you give to families who feel overwhelmed by their tech usage and desires to scale back?
I would encourage families to recognize that they can course correct at any time. There are so many tools and resources available to scale back, and I have a structured formula and long-term strategy available in my book The Opt-Out Family. But for the sake of brevity, I’ve found that, for most of us, revolutionizing our tech usage has everything to do with any habit change. Rather than focusing on what you can’t do/have/consume/watch/listen to, focus on what you can do:
Offer built-in alternatives to technology.
Review our comprehensive list of technology swaps to make in your household.
Learn 75+ life skills to teach young children.
Look through a list of device-free summer camp options for your children.
Protect childhood innocence and free play.
Listen as Dr. Peter Gray talks about the consequences of free-play deficit in today’s children.
Watch award-winning documentary Childhood 2.0.
Teach the benefits of being different.
Listen as MIT professor Cal Newport convinces his students—and the world—to quit social media.
As a family, read aloud age-appropriate memoirs of people who moved against the grain of society: Caddie Woodlawn, A Little Princess, My Side of the Mountain, Peace Pilgrim, Walden.
Offset consumption with creation.
Learn the groundbreaking science behind how independent activities and healthy risks are curing childhood anxieties in today’s kids.
Join 1000 Hours Outside, a global outdoor challenge to match screen time with green time.
Sketch with renowned artists leading free, thirty-minute art lessons inspired by works of art from the National Gallery’s collection.
Unite varied and diverse social circles.
Consider launching a Let Grow Play Club in your community.
Utilize our email scripts to build and engage your own Opt Out social circle or Luddite Club.
Trust (and build trust with) your children.
Watch “How Every Child Can Thrive by Five,” a TED Talk by seven-year-old Molly Wright.
Listen to a New York Times special report as kids confront their parents about sharing too much about them online.
Reject the prominent idea that children should be tracked, monitored, or surveilled via apps.
Whew! I know that was a lot, Ruth—I’m clearly very passionate about this lived message, and I also love the welcoming front porch you’ve built here on the internet. Thank you for having me over!
It was a pleasure to have Erin join us in conversation and I hope that The Opt-Out Family will add to the momentum of individuals and families who are increasingly deciding to step away from the virtual and turn toward the real.
I’ll leave you with these words from Erin’s book that resonate with the direction of Peco’s and my writings here on
:Becoming an opt-out family isn’t all about clenching our fists and teeth and plans as we strategize 101 ways to conquer the gods of tech. It’s not about wringing our hands in worry, furrowing our brows in anger, rolling our eyes in judgement. It’s not about fearfully shooing our children away from screens, slamming laptops shut in fits of despair.
It is simply, opening the door wide to something better. It’s the quiet recognition that every time we opt out of technology, we opt in to life.
The Opt-Out Family is available in bookstores today. You can order it from your favorite bookseller or from our Unconformed Bookshop right here:
For more, you can visit The Opt-Out Family site here, which includes additional downloadable resources, screen-free swaps, and e-mail scripts to teachers and administrators, etc. (I also just discovered that if you arrange a book club of 10+ readers, Erin will join you live for a 1-hour zoom chat).
We would love to hear from you!
What ways have your found to opt out of tech and into life?
What struggles and successes have you encountered?
Please share your experiences, reflections, and questions in the comments section!
Note: We are visiting my family in Switzerland during the month of June and will be mostly offline, spending time hiking, sauntering along the Rhine, eating great cheese and chocolate, and enjoying time with family. Thus it might take us a bit longer than usual to respond to comments :)
If you would like to have a unique experience of “opting in to life”, come and join us on A Pilgrimage out of the Machine!
My husband
and I will be leading an eleven-day pilgrimage on the Camino trail in Spain next year, from June 14-24, 2025. Joining us, as co-leader, will be writer/photographer Seth Haines from The Examine. Space is limited so reserve your spot now :) You can read all about it here. This is open to everyone, irrespective of religion or background.Further Reading
Love and Sacrifice in the Pax Machina by
CALLING ALL GEN Z: Phone Free Friday Summer Challenge! by
A Parents Guide to Understanding the Harms of the Phone-Based Childhood by
Thank you, Ruth and Erin, for a terrific interview. Many good, and deeply wise, points here.
An uncomfortable issue I've been wrestling with the past two months: I've never been on social media in any meaningful way - except Substack. It feels clear to me that Substack is better than other forms of social media with the use of long-form, thoughtful content, including much critique of the digital world. Yet, the place where I feel all of these conflicts and dynamics that you and Erin talked about at play in my own psyche is... Substack. While it's a slower social media, I still encounter an algorithm in the background encouraging me to sign up to read more authors, feeding me articles or quotes that are tailored to my interests, and regular messages encouraging me to post more, cross-post in collaboration with other authors, etc - all with the goal of having all of us on the platform more. I've come to think it's still social media, with all of the background dynamics, but designed for intellectuals. Erin responded to your daughter's question with the reply that there's no good way to engage with social media, when the net effects (positive and negative) are viewed as a whole.. Is that also true here?
I think about the richness of the community Erin describes - families bringing over children to play together, mothers having coffee, et al. - and it sounds beautiful. It also feels really inaccessible to someone like myself who is unwittingly single in my late 30s. I am fortunate to have versions of this available to me on Sundays at church, or at music rehearsals, or my monthly book club and supper club...but I do think about what I'm missing out on, not having the same family inputs available to create community like this. I think that increases the pull of simulacra of community for me: watching TV to feel like a conversation is happening, listening to podcasts to feel like I'm hanging out with people, staring at my laptop to feel like I'm connected to the outside world in some way. I wonder how the opt-out lifestyle might work in the internal life of a one-person household like mine. Would the silence be too overwhelming?