For the last day I've been reading about the digital sabbath movement, using it to try to better understand critiques of digital culture and life: how people self-diagnose the problems of being connected, and how they frame their responses.

So far as I can tell, the idea of carving out a computer-free space is about as old as personal computers, but the first description I can find of such a break as a "sabbath" appears around 2001. Not surprisingly, in its early usage the term had an explicitly religious element. University of Washington professor David Levy, one of the early proponents of the digital sabbath and now an advocate of information environmentalism, "completely unplugged during the Jewish Sabbath, from sunset on Fridays to sunset on Saturdays." It has since become more secular, though it retains its spiritual overtones, partly out of the sense that, as Scott Belsky put it, "Interruption-free space is sacred."

Also unsurprising is the fact that the most enthusiastic advocates of digital sabbaths are the most connected. "The modern Web’s torrent of information can be deeply wearying," Peter Suderman argues, and technology workers "seem particularly susceptible." "I first got on the Internet in 1994," Andrew Burden wrote. "Since then, I have been hooked…. I can hardly go a few minutes without checking my Twitter/Facebook/RSS feed/email or listening to some form of audio, be it music, podcast, or audiobook." Mark DiMassimo and Eric Yaverbaum, founders of the offlining movement, are marketing executives who "devoted much of the last couple of decades to convincing you to log on, click here, call now, surf, and search." (There are other ways in which high-tech executives, programmers, and other wired types revolt against technology in their personal lives. The popularity of alternative, progressive schools in Silicon Valley— like the one my children attend— is one form of revolt; the avid, occasionally obsessive, pursuit of outdoor sports is another.)

Advocates of digital sabbaths sound three major overlapping themes. One is to create time away from insubstantial distractions. "[P]erpetual connectedness to other people through the virtual world (IM, email, internet, phone, etc) can often lead to a feeling of being disconnected from what is real," Sharon Sarmiento writes. Interestingly, this doesn't necessarily cover all technologies, but mainly social media. "The evolution of the social Web in the past three years has resulted in a subtle shift, from a place of discovery to, recently, one of guardedness," Gwen Bell says. "I want to get back to that place of free-wheeling-free-spiritedness with the [old] social Web," and she finds that "pulling out completely allows some time to reflect on the most purposeful and fulfilling ways to engage." Another is to give their brains a break. "I had reached a state of digital overload and needed to do something radical to reclaim my brain," Sarmiento recalled. "I decided to implement a secular sabbath, a 24 hour period of time when I was screen free, cell free, IM free, email free, blogging free, and internet free." Finally, it's about reasserting control over technology. "I find digital devices and screens to be rather draining," student Jason Dudley blogged before starting his digital Sabbath. "I’ve been a slave to my computer for far too long and I’m really looking forward to seeing what effect this will have on my relaxation, focus and productivity." "Really I just want my life back," Jake Mohan laments.