My Media Consumption Rules for 2025

You don't need to see every movie that people on Twitter are raving about

I published a short list of rules earlier this year on Twitter in an attempt to set specific constraints to my media consumption. The rules are straightforward:

1. 12 movies maximum per year

2. 10 minutes of Instagram per day

3. 1 hour of Twitter and TikTok per day but it MUST be followed by 15 minutes of writing down in the notes app or a notebook your favorite insights or things that piqued your curiosity

4. No TV shows

5. Unlimited books

The list and some commentary from an interview with Spanish journalist Héctor García Barnés are now featured in a gated article in El Confidencial, a popular independent Spanish newspaper.

The interview with Hector was great, so I thought it would be a good idea to share it here in full.

Hector: As I told you, I’m working on a piece about the rules that people are setting for different goals. I’ve noticed in the last few years that many of us are creating rules to manage consumption, relationships with smartphones, etc. It’s like the new version of dieting—new ways of losing weight, but for the mind. I’ve been interviewing writers, academics, and others here in Spain. I saw your tweet, found it intriguing, and wanted to learn more.

I’ve read your newsletter, and I always find it fascinating. Could you elaborate on these rules and share what you’re trying to achieve by setting them?

Ruby: These rules are an extension of practices I’ve already followed, but I wanted to formalize them. One of my biggest concerns is what I call "image overconsumption." I love images—I think they’re amazing. I can spend hours in a museum with a single painting or enjoy a photography exhibition. For example, I recently went to the Robert Frank show at MoMA and spent considerable time with the images.

But here’s the thing: I wrote an essay called The Treachery of Images, where I discussed the treacherous nature of images. They claim to portray reality, but they’re human-made constructs and often distort reality. This happens in fiction and fantasy, too.

So, for me, this is about an "image diet." It’s about consuming images consciously. If you think about it, a photograph is one image. A two-hour movie, at 24 frames per second, is 7,200 seconds of images [172,800 images in total]—that’s a lot. One should be very careful about how many images they’re exposed to. Images have an entrancing effect and can alter how we perceive reality.

Hector: That’s fascinating. You mentioned limiting movies and cutting out TV shows entirely. I spoke with a philosophy professor here in Spain who also avoids TV shows. What’s your reasoning behind these limits?

Ruby: Initially, I set six movies per year, but I think 12 is more realistic. These numbers are arbitrary, of course.

As for TV, I think there’s something strange happening with the medium. My joke is, "We need to stop until we figure out what’s going on over there in the world of TV." TV has shifted from communal, highly directed experiences, like Lost or Mad Men, to something entirely different.

I don’t own a TV or any streaming services, so I encounter TV only through friends who’ll say, "You have to watch Squid Game" or "You’ll love Love Island."

The problem is TV’s seriality. It’s never just one episode; it’s an entire season or multiple seasons. You end up watching 8 seasons of Gilmore Girls. There’s a proclivity for binging in the medium. It’s like orange juice: eating one orange is fine, but drinking a glass of Tropicana means consuming 10 oranges, which is way too much. Whereas episodes were weekly, now with streaming services it is too easy to binge-watch and adopt unhealthy TV consumption habits.

I think we should probably alternate TV consumption: one year on, one year off.

Lastly, I’ve encountered a behavior in my peers where, because, allegedly, the number of good new shows is decreasing, they rewatch shows from TV’s golden era. So many friends are on rewatch #3 of The Sopranos or Breaking Bad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure these shows are spectacular. They have great actors, etc. I question whether or not we should be watching Breaking Bad for a third time.

Hector: That’s a unique perspective. So, do you think movies are better suited for consumption?

You: I do. Movies are usually the work of a single auteur or director, making them intentional, contained experiences. TV shows, on the other hand, often change writers or showrunners, so they lack that cohesive, thoughtful artistry.

Hector: You’ve also said books are unlimited. A philosophy professor I interviewed mentioned he rereads books instead of consuming new ones. What’s your take on that?

You: I do a mix of both. Teaching allows me to set my syllabus and revisit texts I love, like Legacy Russell’s Glitch Feminism or Kaczynski’s Industrial Society and its Future.

I very often revisit and reread books as I come up with new ideas. Rereading deepens my understanding and reinvigorates my research. For example, when I reread literary theory books, I often haven’t yet read all the texts referenced in them. Revisiting those books later gives me new insights after engaging with the referenced works.

That said, I’ve stopped reading certain types of books. I love nonfiction, particularly research-heavy books. My second book of the year is this amazing book by Rosemary Jackson called “Fantasy: The Literature of Subversion”. However, I’ve cut out business books. They’re often too poorly written and stretch what could be a Medium post into 200 pages. The ideas in the books are great, but the writing and fluff I have a hard time with.

I don’t really read a lot of new books, new as in contemporary. I could care less about Sally Rooney or Tao Lin. The reason is that if you are heavily involved in culture, a part of a conscientious consumption is focus and choice. Thus, I believe it’s crucial to learn to say no to certain things. You simply can’t do it all.

Every week, if not every day, there’s someone online insisting, "This is amazing; you have to see it!" Whether it’s a movie like Challengers, The Sweet East, or Titane, or Nosferatu or A Complete Unknown, the cycle is endless. The discourse constantly demands attention: "Have you seen this? Have you watched that?"

The point of my rule is to choose intently, to say no, not out of dismissal but as a way to maintain sanity and control over what I engage with. It’s about choosing intentionally rather than being swept up in the socio-cultural urgency of the moment. For example, with Challengers, everyone might be talking about it now, but I’d prefer to wait and see if it actually holds cultural significance a year from now. I suppose one of my filters is time. I want to ensure it’s more than just hype. I want to make sure I’m not being swept by the para-content.

The Age of Para-Content

This approach involves a deliberate slowness. So I avoid opening weekend screenings. I’d rather watch something when the immediate buzz has died down, giving me space to evaluate it as a work of art rather than a fleeting cultural phenomenon.

Hector: You’re strict about social media, too—10 minutes on Instagram and an hour for Twitter and TikTok combined, followed by 15 minutes of note-taking. What inspired this rule?

You: It’s about turning passive consumption into active engagement. Platforms like TikTok and Twitter can be incredibly educational, however, one moment you’re reading a thread on 15th-century Germany castles, and the next, you’re bombarded with memes, pornographic images, Trump videos, and completely unrelated content.

The risk with these two platforms is that you feel like you’re learning because there is genuinely new information, but nothing is retained. If I was asked again about the 15th-century German castles a week later, I could barely recall a single fact.

To retain anything valuable, I jot down curiosities in my Notes app. For example, if I see a zoologist discussing a rare owl, I’ll note the owl’s name and the zoologist’s name. Later, when I have time, I can research it further.

Without this habit, the platform’s chaotic nature ensures you’ll forget what you’ve seen. It’s about making social media serve you, not the other way around.

Hector: Are these new practices, or have you followed them for a while?

Ruby: Many of these rules aren’t new to me. I’ve limited Instagram to 10 minutes for about six years. It used to be 20, then 15. Maybe I’ll reduce it to five next year.

Twitter and TikTok are more intentional. I’ve discovered incredible resources and people there. When I save something interesting—a design tip, for instance—I make a point to revisit it. I’ve even referenced TikToks in essays months later because I saved them intentionally.

Hector: Do you think others will follow your rules?

You: Honestly, I don’t know. These rules are personal, tailored to my life. But I hope sharing them inspires people to think critically about their consumption habits.

Hector: Thank you so much for your time and insights.

Ruby: Thank you. Have a great day!