Shouting from the darkness

I was standing in King’s Cross station the other day, surrounded by people, many of them on the phone, on conference calls, joining zoom, voices raised, trying to cut through the noise.

There were suitcases rattling, announcements echoing, conversations bouncing off stone walls. It was like every person was shouting louder and louder, just to prove who was the most important.

The noise was overwhelming.

And for a second, it hit me: this feels like being inside the internet.

Everyone speaking. No one really listening. Volume up, signal down. So much noise that meaning gets lost in the middle of it all.

I don’t mean to sound nostalgic for some quieter, purer, analogue time. I love the internet. It’s given me more connection, more ideas, more opportunities than I could’ve ever imagined.

But when did shouting from the darkness become the norm?

What Are We All Yelling For?

How did we get here? How did global connectivity, this wildly ambitious, arguably miraculous thing, turn into this negative thing?

The problem is, when you stop shouting, no one hears you.

You post something thoughtful online, and it disappears without a trace. You try to have a real conversation, but everyone is staring down at their phones.

So you just stop trying altogether because... what's the point?

So much of online life feels like this now. Not just loud, but lonely. Like we’re each in our own little bunker, typing furiously in the hope someone will see us. Hear us. Validate us.

And because the internet rewards intensity (volume, certainty, outrage), we dial everything up. It becomes less about communicating and more about performing. Less about understanding and more about being seen to be right.

The Irony of Global Connection

The dream was beautiful, wasn’t it?

Everyone connected. Everyone with a voice. Borders and boundaries blurred. But we didn’t just get connection, we got exposure. To every thought, every reaction, every judgement. All the time.

But we weren’t built for this much input.

We weren’t designed to process 500 opinions before breakfast, or respond to news from five continents by lunch. We weren’t meant to carry that kind of psychic weight every day.

So we cope the only way we can: by yelling louder, scrolling faster, tuning out.

So, What Can We Do?

I don’t have a 10-point plan. I don’t even think that’s the right approach. It's not that easy.

But I do think we can reclaim a little light from the darkness. Not by changing the internet. Just by changing how we show up in it.

Two things I’ve been trying lately, albeit imperfectly:

1. Speak less, mean more.

I used to feel like I had to weigh in on everything. As you probably know, I pretty much have an opinion on everything.

But now, I'm trying to stop and ask myself: Does this help?

Not in a grand, world-changing way. Just in a small, human one.

Does this add clarity? Or just contribute to the noise? Does this invite someone in? Or push someone away?

When I only speak from that place, it’s quieter but oddly, it reaches more people. Because the internet is full of noise. What we’re missing is signal.

2. Give your attention like it matters.

Because it does.

Algorithms may track clicks, but our minds track meaning. What we pay attention to shapes us.

So I've started pruning: less doomscrolling, more deep reads. Less hot takes, more quiet thinkers.

I choose people who make me feel curious, not combative.

And when I see something generous, smart, honest, I say something. A comment. A reply. Even just a quiet “thank you.” It sounds small, but I promise: it's felt.

I don’t think we need more noise. I think we need more care.

Care in what we say. Care in how we listen. Care in what we amplify.

Not because we’re trying to fix the internet, but because we’re trying to stay human in it.

And that starts with how we show up in the darkness.

Sometimes, all it takes is one person lighting a match.

Until next time,

Jon "illuminati" Kaye

Finding meaning in Monday mornings

P.S.

One way we could improve connection and belonging is to start a business with the express purpose of doing just that. A new start up I'm involved in is called Do Radio, launching 1 September. Click here if you want to know more.