Ryanne Molinari

I recently read 12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You by Tony Reinke, which was a scary read not because it contained monsters or spooks but because it cut to the heart of certain realities–namely, that our smartphones are changing us far more than we would like to admit.

This made me consider what other technologies are changing us without our attention. For example, I hate wearing headphones. I’d rather not listen to anything than have to use earbuds, even if it means sharing my favorite Bigfoot podcasts (yes, that’s my weird hobby) with passersby.

It isn’t just that I don’t want to go through the effort of finding, charging, and connecting my earbuds. I don’t like what they do to me as a human being, and I’d like to share a few reasons why. Taking my cue from Reinke’s insightful book, here are twelve ways that your headphones may be (these aren’t absolutes) changing you:

1. You may approach music via consumption, not production.

Music used to be something made, not just something heard. Throughout most of human history, there has been a real person making music in the moment. Audiences may have taken the role of musical consumers, but still, the music they listened to could not just be replayed; it had to be played. Music-making is increasingly being replaced by music streaming.

The same goes for conversations. If we want to learn from one another, our first instinct is no longer to go out and have a conversation. Instead, we pop in our earbuds and select a podcast. Music and conversation—two activities that used to be central to human life—are being commodified. We consume them; we no longer produce them.

2. You may use music and conversations (i.e. podcasts) as a mode of isolation rather than participation.

Anthropologists and theologians agree that music-making is a distinctive of human community—at least, it was historically. Singing together provided a way of identifying with one another through shared narratives, beliefs, and traditions. It brought people together; after all, you need multiple voices to harmonize.

With the prevalence of earbuds, though, music has become a way of isolation rather than participation. Don’t want to chat with another shopper in line? Pop in your headphones. Want to conveniently “not hear” the beggar on the corner? Headphones. We can have all forty voices of Thomas Tallis’ “Spem in alium” to ourselves without engaging a single soul.

3. You may view sound as a default and silence as a deviation.

Ray Bradbury’s brilliant short story “The Pedestrian” should be required reading for everyone living in 2023. In it, a man does something extraordinary: he goes for a walk. Everyone is so inundated with entertainment and convenience that nobody dares to do something as mundane as go for a quiet evening stroll. The default in this dystopia is bustle and consumption, making solitude, silence, and exercise a shocking deviation.

Similarly, we are conditioning ourselves to view noise as the default state of man. It is off-putting to go to a coffee shop that doesn’t pipe in low-fi, or a gym that isn’t blasting pop. This troubles me. It bothers me that, right now, my skin is prickling in the absence of any sound other than my clacking keyboard and a plane in the distance. We are more comfortable swimming in an unrelenting sea of sound waves and forget that we were also made to be still.

4. You may never be totally alone.

As we train ourselves to view silence as a void to fill rather than a space to enjoy, we are also ruining true solitude. I spend the majority of my days alone practicing, housekeeping, running, and writing. And yet, very few hours are spent in true solitude. There are the familiar voices of my favorite podcast hosts, the banter of The Gilmore Girls, the ever-shifting jingles of trending reels. I am the only human being in my house, but creating space for genuine solitude takes self-control and I am worried for our spiritual states. With headphones, it easier to switch on a podcast than to pray, to download a playlist than to read our Bibles. Are we ever really alone with God anymore?

5. You may be conditioning yourself toward discontentment.

Constant stimulation quickly becomes a habit. Again, if sound is the norm and silence is a deviation, we will quickly grow discontent. We will crave more, more, more until our earbuds seem to become a default part of us—an appendage we cannot do without yet is constantly demanding new content, remixed songs, louder volumes.

I always have a better workout when I have my earbuds; I run faster, lift heavier weights, and walk with a little spring in my step. But is this increase in physical productivity worth it if I then feel I must do more, hear more, be more, consume more in my life beyond the gym? There’s a reason I leave my earbuds in my gym bag; they have their place and I am thankful for their usefulness, but I would like to be content with using them for an hour of exercise and then returning to blessed silence.

6. You may train yourself to despise ambient sounds.

One of my friends sent me a magnet that reads, “I am not emotionally equipped to deal with the sound of someone chewing loudly.” I have always hated the sound of other people chewing and think we can universally agree that other people’s bodily functions are louder and grosser than our own—right? Okay, maybe not. Objectively, we are all annoying and noisy, but our earbuds seem to be increasing our sensitivity to ambient sounds, especially those of other people. When ignoring the sounds of one another’s existence is as easy as popping in an earbud, we tend to do so. However, when we must go without our earbuds, I fear we will be more easily annoyed, more agitated with the normal noises of our world and our fellow humans.

7. You may be contributing to imaginative atrophy.

A songwriter I respect was asked what song he would listen to if he could only listen to one song for the rest of his life. Without hesitation, he answered: John Cage’s 4’33”. For those of you who might not know, this piece consists of four minutes and thirty-three seconds of silence. The performers sit quietly, not making music but, instead, forcing the audience to listen to silence and ambient noises. Some might think this songwriter’s answer was a joke, but I get it. Great music can help us refine our own craft and broaden our creative horizons. However, it can also deafen our unique voices and ideas. I write more songs when I cannot listen to music because, in the silence, I more readily tune into my own emotions and thoughts.

A similar phenomena is true of podcasts and audiobooks, both of which I enjoy regularly. However, if we are constantly feasting upon other people’s conversations and stories, we will be less likely to create our own. Think about it: when was the last time you caught yourself daydreaming about something good, true, or beautiful? Too often, when we start to crave a good story, song, or conversation, we pop in our earbuds instead of exercising our imaginations.

8. You may treat listening as a self-oriented activity.

Every morning, my Spotify app offers me curated playlists for my day. Now, I love folk music and have found some amazing, lesser-known artists through these playlists. However, when I can listen to them anywhere, anytime, I find that I implicitly treat music as a self-oriented activity. It’s about satisfying my tastes, not learning to empathize with others through different styles. Again, having favorite music is not wrong, but using music to curate an aural self-image can be dangerous. After all, how we listen and what we listen to throughout the week cannot be separated from how we approach musical worship on Sundays. It might even be a shock to our system to come to church and realize that singing is not always about us, but about praising a God who transcends our favorite style and uniting with people who have wildly different tastes.

9. You may be contributing to anxiety/depression.

Many people reach for their earbuds to combat anxiety. Again, we often use them to block out sounds that annoy us or to avoid stressful social interactions. We may simply find certain musical styles calming. However, could earbuds just be a bandaid on a deeper issue? Or could they actually be making our anxiety worse? It likely depends on the person and his or her purposes in using headphones. However, constantly taking in information through podcasts, isolating ourselves from others, and never taking the time to be alone with ourselves or God…well, that’s a pretty clear recipe for a plummet in mental health.

Add to this the decision fatigue of streaming services. When we have thousands upon thousands of podcasts and albums and personalized playlists to choose from, it can be overwhelming. Lately, I’ve started just keeping my car radio (remember those?) tuned to the local classical music station. I don’t always get to hear my favorite music, but it takes away the small but influential pressure of choosing an album or episode every time I get in my car.

10. You may hear voices…and they probably say exactly what you want to hear.

When we can easily use headphones to ignore other people and stream the exact podcasts we want to hear…well, we will constantly hear voices that affirm what we already believe. This can be a good thing. For instance, I listened to a wonderful podcast on the atonement yesterday that enhanced my understanding of this central doctrine as well as challenged some of the ways I’ve heard it discussed previously. However, at what point are we just seeking out people to echo what we want to hear? I’m not suggesting we need to intentionally and exclusively consume podcasts by people we disagree with, but it certainly can’t be healthy to just stream our own thoughts all day long. Ironically, this may end up diminishing our own inner voice. We should at least pause our podcasts now and then to reflect and research for ourselves.

11. You may become mindless about tasks you deem mundane.

Agatha Christie famously said, “The best time for planning a book is while you’re doing the dishes.” Granted, Christie could not stream a true crime podcast while doing her chores, but it seemed to work out just fine for her, seeing as her mystery novels have outsold everything but the Bible. I find that I write best just after throwing in a load of laundry and, taking my cue from Christie, I do better work when I do my morning chores in silence and write immediately afterward. Yes, I typically listen to a good comedy or cryptozoology podcast (I have weird interests, okay?) while I fold the laundry, but if we cannot function in our mundane duties without a podcast or album something may be wrong; we are probably lacking something deeper than entertainment. Pay attention to when you find yourself reaching for your earbuds (or phone) and ask yourself, “Why am I discontent in this area? Why can’t I do _______ without stimulation?” It won’t be a comfy moment of self-reflection, but it will be fruitful

12. You may increase in information but decline in discernment.

Continuing the theme of my previous point, if we are constantly streaming, consuming, searching, and listening, we will run out of time for reflection, discussion, memorization, or creation. Really, this summarizes most of what I’ve already written in this post. As we have constant and easy access to information, we are increasing in knowledge but not necessarily in wisdom. Of course this depends on who you are and what/when/how you are streaming into your earbuds. However, I think the conclusion of Ecclesiastes could be aptly paraphrased to describe the impact of earbuds: “Of the recording and releasing of many podcasts/albums there is no end, and ceaseless streaming is a weariness of the flesh.”

Conclusion

I’m preparing to go workout and, depending on how I’m feeling physically, may use my headphones. After all, the soundtrack from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron never fails to inspire a good run. However, I hope this article helps you think more discerningly about your headphone use. Using them is not right or wrong—it’s all in the what, when, why, and how.