It varies.
For me? Not much nowadays, now that I'm retired. I don't have anything to prove blogging or on social media, and I've made enemies with my support for Donald Trump --- even among supporters of Donald Trump! Especially on Facebook, which is high school, sometimes literally (my old classmates are organizing for the 50th reunion, oh my).
In any case, Tyler Cowen makes the case to be glued to your screens.
At The Free Press, "The Case for Living Online":
How much should we be online? Is it crazy to spend the majority of your day in chat groups, answering emails, and scrolling X? Is posing 20 to 30 queries a day to the AIs consistent with having meaningful respect for actual flesh-and-blood human beings? I say yes. Perhaps you balk at that answer. Perhaps you think that’s akin to admitting a heroin addiction. So I ask you to challenge yourself: Don’t think about how you should spend your time. Think about how you already choose to. Be honest. I suspect most people aren’t like me—spending hours a day with ChatGPT, Claude, WhatsApp, and X. But, whether or not those are your particular fancies, the online life attracts a great number of people. Just walk through an airport, where most people have idle time, and watch how many of them are on their phones. You must either think this is (mostly) justifiable, or you have a very low opinion of current humanity. In that case, you must think them incapable of creating meaningful, autonomous lives, centered around some notion of the good. (I am not so pessimistic—at least, not yet.) I view many of these online time investments as a determined attempt to be in touch with the people we want to be in touch with. To meet the people we truly want to meet. And to befriend and sometimes to marry them. Those goals are so important that they can justify our massive online presence. I will explain this view further, but first let us consider the strongest and most articulate argument against such an intense online life. It comes from Ross Douthat, who, in a recent New York Times essay, made the case that the digital revolution—and AI especially—is presenting humanity with an extinction-level event, at least on the cultural front. “The age of digital revolution—the time of the internet and the smartphone and the incipient era of artificial intelligence—threatens an especially comprehensive cull,” writes Ross. “It’s forcing the human race into what evolutionary biologists call a ‘bottleneck’—a period of rapid pressure that threatens cultures, customs, and peoples with extinction.” Ross calls for human resistance against these trends, calling upon us to embrace what tech partisans sometimes call a “meatspace” existence. He asks us to “sit with the child, open the book, and read.” We should seek church rather than YouTube, a sit-down restaurant rather than a WhatsApp group, and love and procreation rather than porn. Surely “the real,” as Ross presents it, has value above and beyond its immediate utility. But it also, he argues, likely makes us happier in the long run, too. Elsewhere, Jonathan Haidt, in his best-selling book The Anxious Generation, has called for far less online engagement and much more real-world play, most of all for our children. He has spent the year or so since the book’s publication advocating for cell phone bans in schools and age requirements for social media sites—all aimed at getting kids offline. Ross and Jon do have a point, and indeed I do plenty of reading and also babysitting, including the conjunct of reading to babies. It is easy to see that many individuals spend too much time on their phones, as they might tell you themselves. And yet Ross’s characterization of online existence does not recognize its true value, which I believe is deeply human. Why do I spend so much of my time with email, group chats, and also writing for larger audiences such as Free Press readers? I ask myself that earnestly, and I have arrived at a pretty good answer...