By: Stephanie Barrientos, MS*
The pandemic changed many aspects of life as we knew it. As
the world went into lockdown, the community spaces that our daily routines once
occupied were replaced with virtual venues. Our houses became our classrooms,
workplaces, gyms, shopping centers, bars, and places of worship—all made
possible with access to a computer and Wi-Fi. Technology made it easier to adjust to new
realities. For example, by providing job flexibility and portability, telework
employment is especially beneficial for military spouses during duty station
relocations. Since the start of the pandemic, many people, including DoD civilian
employees, have reported greater productivity while working from home. As
humans simply trying to survive a changing environment, we did exactly what evolution
designed us to do best: adapt. And so we did, with life continuing in the
digital realm. But now I wonder, did some of us go too far?
As a teacher, technology helped me transition students from in-person to online learning, and allowed me to continue doing the work that I love throughout the pandemic. But because working from home made work accessible 24/7, I too became overly accessible to the demands of my work. After a year of teaching behind a computer screen, I began to experience negative health impacts from an unfamiliar kind of anxiety, stemming from a new kind of stress acquired from the comfort of my home: technostress. It’s a type of stress caused by a hard time coping with new technologies. This can look different for each person. For some, it’s a struggle to accept the technology, and for others, like me, it’s an overdependence on it.
Figuring out how to teach a hands-on science class remotely with limited online resources was no easy task. The learning curve was steep! But with time and lots of tech support, my students and I acclimated to the new classroom environment, and eventually, I began to prefer this alternative way of teaching. After all, it made grading easier (since most assignments were web-based). It also freed up time in my day that would otherwise be spent commuting and made it possible for me to meet with students at times that worked better for them. It allowed me the time and flexibility to teach additional courses too. For months, I taught exclusively online, one class after another. For a while, it worked well for me—until I realized how much time I spent staring at a screen.
I’d often go hours without taking a break and stay logged on well past the end of the workday, especially since there was no traffic to beat or rush to get home. I’d work weekends if I fell behind during the week and answered emails at all hours because I had multiple personal electronics that made it possible. There were many days where I’d go to bed and wake up with headaches and back pain. And there came a point where even Zoom calls with friends and family weren’t as enjoyable because the last thing I wanted to do after a long day online was talk to another screen. I became frustrated and grew resentful of technology and myself for allowing it to take over my life. There were no boundaries between work, downtime, workday, and weekend.
My body suffered, my vision declined (even with blue-light glasses), and I began to feel isolated from loved ones. After a year, I questioned if I wanted to teach anymore. Something that once made me feel so fulfilled was now associated with stress and mental fatigue.
Now that I’m back on campus, my days look different. I can no longer schedule classes back-to-back because I now need to factor in a commute time. Once class ends, I have time to take a break, grab a cup of coffee, or even have lunch with a colleague. I delight in the quiet morning walks from my car to the classroom as I pass by beautiful trees and historic buildings on the way. When I see students studying together in the library, or helping each other in the lab, I smile with gratitude and remember why I became a teacher and why I love doing what I do. I never knew how important these small moments in the day are and the positive impact they have on my well-being. Realizing that motivated me to redefine my relationship with technology and confront job burnout.
The following are strategies I use to limit the digital stress for improved performance, physical health, and mental wellness:
1. View mental health self-care as a responsibility.
Like chores and reporting to work on time, taking care of yourself is just as important—if not more so. If you’re like me and can plan your work schedule in advance, then make sure to schedule time for self-care (whether it’s going to the gym or eating a hearty, nutritious breakfast). Physical exercise and healthy eating are excellent ways to care for your mind and body. If your schedule is unpredictable, it might be more challenging to make time for yourself, especially on hectic days. Still, you can build self-care into your daily routine. For me, self-care on busy days looks like coffee breaks, periodic stretches, practicing mindfulness during walks, eating meals without electronic devices, and staying hydrated. If I can’t get to the gym, then I’ll take the stairs, park a little further away from the building, or do a quick workout at home. Self-care can be in the form of tiny habits or brief pauses. It doesn’t have to be a big lifestyle change or time-consuming, but it’s important to make or find time for it.
2. Limit screen time to better manage stress.
Staring at a screen for hours on end hurts the eyes and puts a strain on postural muscles. Taking frequent breaks away from the computer has improved my back pain and headaches. I’ve also made it a habit to not scroll on my phone once I’m in bed. Surfing the web and social media keeps our minds alert and over-stimulated, which then makes it harder to fall asleep and wake up in the morning. Good sleep habits boost performance and mental wellness.
3. Set “tech” boundaries.
Computers are better at multitasking than we are. Technology gives us access to anything and anyone, simultaneously, at any time. But that doesn’t mean we must be endlessly accessible too. Unlike a computer that gets its power from a plug in the wall, our time and energy are limited. Try to set clear parameters around your workday and how you use your devices. Use technology to optimize your workflow, but maintain a firm boundary to prevent the workflow from spilling into your personal time.
A solid work-life balance is key. For example, when it comes to teaching, I use technology to grade online assignments, give the class updates, and meet with students when they’re unable to meet on campus for office hours. I no longer use it to schedule back-to-back classes or meetings. I let my students know that I don’t accept meetings after 6 p.m. or on weekends. I also don’t check emails when I’m with friends and family. When I’m working from home, and the temptation to extend the workday is easy to give into, it’s especially important to establish clear start and end times and keep the “work” area confined to one place. If you live in a small space, it might not be practical to transform a limited home space into a separate workspace. I use the dining table and an office chair. At the end of the workday, I turn off my computer and replace the office chair with the dining chair. During work hours, I avoid working on my bed or on the couch—areas preciously reserved for rest and relaxation.
4. Remember the difference between “important” and “urgent.”
When I’m tempted to stay logged on past the end of the workday, I ask myself, “Can this wait?” When the answer isn’t clear, I imagine that I’m at school, campus is closing, and the lights will soon turn off. I rephrase the question and repeat: “Is this task so urgent that I’d be willing to work in the dark or skip dinner that my fiancé so lovingly spent time preparing?” Most of the time, the answer is no. Whatever non-deadline work wasn’t finished today can always be done tomorrow. If the task can’t wait until the next day—like when final grades are due in the morning—then it’s a relief knowing that technology can make it possible to meet the deadline from anywhere. In this scenario, technology is appropriately functioning as a tool to help me achieve a particular, time-sensitive goal from the convenience of my home. However, using technology to extend the workday for non-urgent matters comes with an unnecessary sacrifice of what’s truly important: our time, energy, and health.
President Eisenhower once said, “The things that are urgent are seldom important, and the things that are important are seldom urgent.” Between using computers for work and smartphones for scrolling through social media, it’s easy to give hours to an electronic device that takes us away from other meaningful activities without realizing it. Time is limited and can never be regained once it’s lost. Time with our loved ones and to ourselves is essential for our well-being and perceived quality of life. Like time, our energy is a fleeting resource. But unlike time, it can and must be frequently replenished so that we can maintain productivity and perform well. If we don’t take time to unplug and unwind so that we can care for our personal needs—or if our energy is so depleted that we don’t have the capacity to do anything else besides stay glued to a screen—our relationships, mental wellness, and physical health will suffer. Our overall well-being delicately hangs in the balance of life stressors and how we cope with them. We need both time and energy, along with the support from our close ties, to cope effectively.
Technology is a wonderfully versatile instrument that opened the world when the world shut down. It allows us to socialize, conduct business, exchange information, gain knowledge, and remain productive. But like a pocket knife, we must be careful with how we handle a multi-functional tool. Just because the tool can be used for anything, doesn’t mean it should be used for everything. Technology wasn’t meant to replace, but rather support our daily needs and responsibilities. Use the power of technology to make your life easier and remember that sometimes, it’s most powerful when it’s turned off.
About the Author
Stephanie Barrientos is a professor of Anatomy and Physiology at Trinity Washington University and Miami Dade College. She was a 2021 summer social science intern with the HPRC team and has a special interest in social science and social fitness. Stephanie received a BS in Psychology from University of Florida and a MS in Health Science from University of South Florida. She’s pursuing a career change into the psychology field and is currently preparing for doctoral programs.
* The opinions and assertions expressed herein are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of USU or DoD. The contents of this publication are the sole responsibility of the author and do not reflect the views, opinions, or policies of The Henry M. Jackson Foundation for the Advancement of Military Medicine, Inc. Mention of trade names, commercial products, or organizations does not imply endorsement by the U.S. Government. The author has no financial interests or relationships to disclose.