Dad, I’m Bored
A reflection on how endless scrolling has replaced endless boredom
Being bored is part of being a teenager. You spend most of your free time sat around trying to figure out what to do next.
When I was a teenager, the internet filled a small gap - but having to negotiate with my Mum over using the phone line, connecting through a painfully slow dial up modem, and the limited availability of games and things to do meant this would kill an hour - tops.
Luckily, there was relief elsewhere. Football, skateboarding, kicking a can down the road, seeing who could spit the furthest. If I was to describe my main hobby as a teenager, it was “dicking about”.
Somehow, you’d find that there were loads of things to do if you put your mind to it. You could kill a whole evening like this.
For most of us, that boredom is a core childhood memory. Being left largely unguided to make your own fun. Spending the majority of your time with nothing to do.
Luckily for me, with time and age, new entertainment opportunities opened.
Drinking entered the picture.
My Mum and Dad would buy me a few cans to take to a friend’s house.
“Better we know what you’re drinking”.
We’d inevitably top this up with the cheapest vodka we could get from Zak’s. Or as we affectionately called it “Slack’s” (due to their lax policy on ID).
While I was at University the internet became much more of an “always on” presence.
Online gaming was starting to take off with Quake and Call of Duty. We played between friends, but usually as the precursor to a night out.
FaceParty saw the beginning of social networking for most of us in the UK. MySpace and Facebook would come next.
Years later the floodgates would open. The idea of “content creation” would catch on, and the infinite scroll was invented and slowly, my habits would change along with everyone else’s.
Eventually I deleted Facebook. It was after looking at the christening photos for the baby of the sister of a woman I went to school with. Who I hadn’t spoken to for 10 years. Who I didn’t even really like.
Why am I looking at this?
Deleting Facebook felt like a big step. Now I was free of social media.
Well, obviously I still had a YouTube account… and Reddit… and now Substack.
Anyway, I’m mostly free.
When I look at Toby I wonder if he will ever be bored. For now he’s got me to endlessly entertain him, but if he follows in the footsteps of millions of other teenagers he will eventually start playing computer games, he’ll eventually go online and then he will be able to scroll forever.
Or maybe he won’t. With new age verification rules coming into effect, this option won’t be as available as it was only a week ago.
When I started drinking - we all knew it was bad for you. The teachers said so, our parents said so, even the government said so. So it had to be an occasional act of rebellion.
MSN was safe, kicking a football was safe. There was no government guidance to say otherwise. So we did those things during the week and then we drank every other weekend.
When I go to the pub now, the landlord wants me to buy another drink, but eventually he’ll get bored on my drunken ramblings and kindly ask me to move on. Even he knows that drinking is a bad idea.
He definitely wouldn’t recommend spending six hours every day drinking. He wouldn’t recommend doing it at school.
I don’t think YouTube has ever told me that I’ve had enough.
But now we‘ve all agreed - maybe MSN was safe, but its successors aren’t.
My habits are already formed, but is it too late for Toby?
And what about his friends? Those who don’t have the support network that he does, those whose parents are less well equipped to help them?
I know I can’t wrap him in cotton wool forever. One day I will catch Toby sneaking beers from the fridge, the next I’ll catch him using a VPN to access Instagram.
But he’ll be sneaking around like I was. He won’t be cracking open a can of beer and joining me on the sofa. He won’t be endlessly scrolling Instagram with me either.
Maybe that’s the best we can hope for and maybe that’s good enough to break the cycle.
Then he can go back to doing what teenagers do best. I’m not sure how he’ll do it, but he’s going to have endless empty hours to fill with mindless fun and ”dicking about”. And maybe a little homework too.
One day I hope he will look at me and say:
“Dad, I’m really bored.”
And I will let out a huge sigh of relief.