‘Age of Magical Overthinking’ underestimates its premise

People are like that everywhere, Montell writes faced with a crisis of the mind.

From this grim landscape emerges “The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Modern Irrationality,” Montell’s third book and an in-depth look at mental health, behavioral science, disinformation and online culture in the 1920s. In it, she argues that the ills of the Internet age can best be explained by looking back at human history, when our minds developed shortcuts to increase our chances of survival. These shortcuts are called “cognitive biases” and can lead us to do strange things, like falling for a conspiracy theory or accepting mental health advice from an untrained influencer.

Montell guides us through a compelling collection of ’21st century disruptions’, from celebrity worship to traditional women’s discourse, and explores how cognitive biases can contribute. But by positioning her work as a response to America’s broad struggles with mental health care, Montell promises more than she delivers. Instead of focusing on a compelling tour of our shared cognitive problems, she juggles meta-commentary on such enormous topics like the modern mind and the internet, dropping balls along the way.

The book begins with an account of Montell’s struggles with anxiety and overwhelm, and the steps she took to feel better. “My most cinematic attempt at mental rehabilitation was picking herbs on a farm in Sicily under skies free of light pollution,” she writes.

Ultimately, she had an aha moment: The same cognitive biases she encountered while researching toxic social groups for her second book, “Cultish,” might explain why the Internet age felt like a “mass trip.” Because we receive more information in a day than we can ever process, we fall back on mental habits developed when humans were simpler creatures, Montell writes. For example, celebrity worship on social media could be fueled by the “halo effect,” where we assume that someone with one good quality (writing popular pop songs) has other good qualities (a perfectly aligned moral compass). Or maybe we spend hours comparing ourselves to other people on Instagram because the zero-sum bias has convinced us that life is a game of winners and losers.

In many cases, Montell supports her connections with nods to evolutionary biology. For early humans, it made sense to attach ourselves to the strongest and most powerful, so now we glory in Taylor Swift or Charli XCX. Resources like mates and status were limited in ancient human societies, Montell notes, so it’s natural that we see good-looking people on Instagram as a direct threat to our survival.

Montell finds examples of cognitive biases in focal points of internet culture, such as the millennial obsession with New Age therapy. Faced with big problems, like anxiety or depression, our minds look for big explanations, like childhood trauma or a scarcity mentality, instead of examining all the smaller issues at play.

In other places she shares stories from her own life. In her late 20s, she struggled to leave an abusive relationship, terrified that giving up meant she had wasted years of her life – a classic sunk cost fallacy. Humans are social creatures, Montell notes, who are afraid to provoke criticism by admitting mistakes.

“My hope is that these chapters will provide some insight into the senseless,” Montell says early on. “To open a window in our minds and let in a warm breeze.” And indeed, at times her sharp descriptions of behavioral weaknesses and her talent for cutting through doublespeak make room for hope: perhaps noticing our distorted thinking will make its consequences less painful. Perhaps our generational crisis is a story of too few neurons encountering too many terabytes.

If our confidence in Montell’s analysis wavers, it is because its objectives are too broad and its claims imprecise. For example, we are never quite sure of the shape of the national mental health crisis she repeatedly refers to. Early on, she draws a distinction between Americans’ current struggles with mental health care and the twentieth-century struggle against physical oppression. This neat separation does not reflect reality – “The Age of Magical Overthinking” was subsequently published Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization and during the ongoing battle for voter access, health care, and the right to protest. It also does not reflect what science has shown about diseases such as depression, which are common connected to one’s physical and political well-being. Ultimately, we’re left with the sense that Montell’s crisis of mind begins and ends with the vague feelings of dread and dread that many people feel after scrolling through social media apps.

Montell implies that the collapse of Americans’ mental health began after 2000, caused by internet access and introspection. By confusing “the Internet” with social media, she makes loose connections between online scrolling and mental anxiety, without referencing the complicated science surrounding how social media use affects our brains. Some studies have found bumps in anxiety and depression associated with social media use, but more recent meta-analyses question their methods and findings. So far, researchers have not found a consistent causal link between spending time on social apps and experiencing symptoms of depression and anxiety.

Of course, future research may reveal new ways to measure how social media use or other online activities affect the mental health of different populations. Perhaps we should rely on an entirely different standard of truth, such as qualitative research on young people and their families. Rather than criticize existing science or offer an alternative lens, Montell picks two studies that support her thesis and waves a hand at the sorry state of affairs.

Finally, while Montell says cognitive biases affect everyone, she focuses her attacks on the safest targets: “Disney adults,” “male girl bosses,” “Facebook-addicted Karens.” Readers hoping for a fresh or counterintuitive take on Internet culture—and its heroes and villains—may walk away disappointed.

Montell says from the jump that her analysis of the 2020s malaise is “not a system of thought,” and instead likens her work to a Buddhist koan – meant to be thought about, not understood. That’s fine, and “The Age of Magical Overthinking” ultimately contains interesting topics, fun research, and lively storytelling. But in Montell’s attempt to critique the spirit of our time, she asks inaccurate questions and provides unsatisfactory answers.

Tatum Hunter is a consumer technology reporter at The Washington Post, based in San Francisco. Her work focuses on health, privacy and relationships in the internet age.

The Age of Magical Thinking

Notes on Modern Irrationality

Atria/one signal. 272 pp. $28.