As the virus has spread, it has also ravaged our outlets for sustained creative expression. Theaters have been darkened, exhibitions shuttered, wedding dances postponed, Eurovision canceled. People-watching is out. But bingeing and posting and thumbing incessantly through social media are open for business. In fact, a slavish devotion to our devices has come to feel like a practical necessity. Social media platforms have been unexpectedly reliable in spreading information about the pandemic, and in a time of social isolation, they have spontaneously delivered on their promise of community connectivity.

But they have also ensnared our attention with an alarming grip. The virus has clarified the dark bargain of these devices: We look to them to protect our bodies and soothe our nerves, and in return, we hand over our minds.

By Day 2 of a self-imposed kind-of quarantine, I was pacing my apartment, riding the crests of my anxiety, periodically sucking a thermometer and tapping idly through every content-emitting app on my phone. No crevice of the internet remained untouched by the virus. It has infected the content of beefcake influencers, wellness personalities and cat Twitter. There is surgical glove nail art and a masked makeup tutorial. Everybody is yelling about how to prepare beans and wash your hands. The impulses to signal awareness of the looming public health crisis and to reap the benefits of a coronavirus traffic bump align here. Even puppy rescue Instagrams are starting their captions with phrases like “In this time of uncertainty …”