Choosing Privacy: The Value of Restraint

I notice a growing shift happening quietly but steadily: people are questioning how much of themselves they give away online. In recent years, social media has been the place to share stories, showcase expertise, and connect. Yet more often, I find myself wondering: how much of our time is truly spent on the “doing” of work, compared to the “telling” of it?

The pull to share is powerful. Social platforms are designed to reward attention-seeking behaviour – likes, clicks, reposts. The more personal, the better. But what is the cost? We are not only sharing our insights with peers and colleagues; we’re also putting our thoughts, photos, and experiences in front of strangers. Some strangers are benign, others are opportunistic, and – more worryingly, some may have harmful intent.

We see parents create posts on LinkedIn, Facebook and other sites using their children’ s images to promote business, garner sympathy, or feed an image of ‘having it all’ or being this great family focused person. The first social media babies are now adults and many are very unhappy about their early photos being shared. This CNN article highlights the move to bring in laws to protect children by preventing parents oversharing their kids’ images.

Given the recent years of COVID, political upheaval and other geopolitical events that embolden far-right ideas, conspiracy theories, rage baiting, and other online nonsense, there’s a parallel movement. People are closing down accounts, pruning their connections, blocking, muting, and unfollowing. They are making intentional choices about where their attention goes. This isn’t about disengaging completely, but about reclaiming privacy, focus, and mental space.

In our super-connected world, restraint is a radical act. I feel it’s about protecting the value of your time, your attention, and your inner world. Privacy is not withdrawal – it’s strength. It’s the ability to choose deliberately what you let in (the value) , and what you leave out (distraction, noise, time-sucks).

Pause before posting: Ask yourself, Does this need to be public? If not, it may belong in a private journal, a conversation with a friend, or simply in your own mind. Before you tell the world how sad or outraged you are about something, think about the bad actors who will benefit from your TMI.
Set clear limits: Decide when and how often you’ll engage online. Boundaries around time and frequency stop platforms from dictating your focus.
Curate your feed: Unfollow, mute, or block accounts that drain your energy or shift your attention away from what truly matters to you. Notice how you feel when you interact with an account and be ruthless about disconnecting if it adds no value for you.
Separate work from personal: Keep professional insights where they add value but protect your personal life. Oversharing may expose you in ways that are not helpful.
Protect your mental space: Notice when scrolling leaves you anxious, restless, or distracted. Use that as a signal to step back and redirect your attention.

The conversation about boundaries isn’t about rejecting technology or connection. It’s about using it with intention. By choosing where to focus, we reclaim our time, our privacy, and our ability to think deeply and act meaningfully – without an audience.