Shane Cole is a tanned, athletic young man from Vail, Colorado, studying at the University of Southern California, living with his fraternity brothers near campus.
An unlikely digital Mennonite if there ever was one.
I grew up in a small town in Ohio neighbored by Mennonite farmers. Their Christian Anabaptist faith tradition puts them on a spectrum of simple living that ranges between the horse-and-buggy Amish over to urban Mennonite congregations. We called our local adherents of this tradition “black-bumper Mennonites”. The men wore overalls and the women had their hair buns in white caps. But they bought fancy power equipment for their farms and brand-new passenger vans for their families. Upon purchase, anything shiny on their vehicles was painted black, as a display of modesty. Such was their chosen spot on the simplicity scale, their answer to the perennial Amish-Mennonite question: “Will this new thing help our community to flourish, or will it cause our community harm?” For Mennonites, communal harmony matters more than mere personal convenience.
Shane started asking that question about smartphones and social media when he was in high school. The closer he looked at his use of this technology, the more disturbed he became about its intrusion into his life and the lives of people around him. He trashed Facebook, Instagram, and even Snapchat. He bought a LightPhone, a stripped-down unit for texting and calling. “We need to de-colonize our minds!” he exclaims.
Shane is not a Mennonite. But in my recent chat with him, I anointed him a “digital Mennonite”. A kind of black-bumper Mennonite. Not on the Amish end of the spectrum: he still owns a smart phone and a computer. I gave him this appellation because he asks the same question that Mennonites ask.
Shane is amazed by the ways his life has lifted up since he stopped looking down at a screen all the time. He immerses himself in nature, working with SC Outfitters, the campus group for outdoor adventure. He reads books – lots that are not even assigned to him in class. There is more space and time for him to devote to real relationships.
“The social media companies have commodified our attention,” he says. Getting it back means looking up, looking within, being mindful of that constant physical urge to check our smart phones. It means taking a break from devices long enough to be mindful of everything else. Shane sees liberation from social media as the most recent front in the long struggle for freedom from oppressive social systems.
Shane is forming a student club to take action on the need for “digital de-tox” on campus and beyond. Our office is lending support. “I want us to empower students to take control of their use of social media.”
Were he inclined to do so, I’m sure Shane Cole would have no trouble presenting himself as living the perfect Facebook/Instagram/Snapchat life. But he’s opted out of that part of cyberspace. And he’s not missing it at all.
I grew up in a small town in Ohio neighbored by Mennonite farmers. Their Christian Anabaptist faith tradition puts them on a spectrum of simple living that ranges between the horse-and-buggy Amish over to urban Mennonite congregations. We called our local adherents of this tradition “black-bumper Mennonites”. The men wore overalls and the women had their hair buns in white caps. But they bought fancy power equipment for their farms and brand-new passenger vans for their families. Upon purchase, anything shiny on their vehicles was painted black, as a display of modesty. Such was their chosen spot on the simplicity scale, their answer to the perennial Amish-Mennonite question: “Will this new thing help our community to flourish, or will it cause our community harm?” For Mennonites, communal harmony matters more than mere personal convenience.
Shane started asking that question about smartphones and social media when he was in high school. The closer he looked at his use of this technology, the more disturbed he became about its intrusion into his life and the lives of people around him. He trashed Facebook, Instagram, and even Snapchat. He bought a LightPhone, a stripped-down unit for texting and calling. “We need to de-colonize our minds!” he exclaims.
Shane is not a Mennonite. But in my recent chat with him, I anointed him a “digital Mennonite”. A kind of black-bumper Mennonite. Not on the Amish end of the spectrum: he still owns a smart phone and a computer. I gave him this appellation because he asks the same question that Mennonites ask.
Shane is amazed by the ways his life has lifted up since he stopped looking down at a screen all the time. He immerses himself in nature, working with SC Outfitters, the campus group for outdoor adventure. He reads books – lots that are not even assigned to him in class. There is more space and time for him to devote to real relationships.
“The social media companies have commodified our attention,” he says. Getting it back means looking up, looking within, being mindful of that constant physical urge to check our smart phones. It means taking a break from devices long enough to be mindful of everything else. Shane sees liberation from social media as the most recent front in the long struggle for freedom from oppressive social systems.
Shane is forming a student club to take action on the need for “digital de-tox” on campus and beyond. Our office is lending support. “I want us to empower students to take control of their use of social media.”
Were he inclined to do so, I’m sure Shane Cole would have no trouble presenting himself as living the perfect Facebook/Instagram/Snapchat life. But he’s opted out of that part of cyberspace. And he’s not missing it at all.