Where did all the imagination go?

“Squidward. We don’t need television. Not as long as we have our: Imaginaaaation.”

Arguably one of the most iconic episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants to this day is "Idiot Box" (Season 3). As hilarious as it is, it also teaches us a lesson about the power of imagination. When Squidward sees a large TV delivered to SpongeBob and Patrick, he's almost envious of the mindless entertainment they're about to indulge in.

That is, until the iconic duo discard the television and keep the box. Using nothing but their creativity, they embark on wild, elaborate adventures. Squidward, glued to his screen, can’t understand why they seem to be having more fun than he is.

The message here? True imagination doesn’t come from consuming content, but from the absence of things.

From contemplation, boredom, and the space to create something out of nothing. There’s a reason your best ideas come to you in the shower or while staring out of a train window. Behold: the magic of contemplation! It's something great creatives like David Lynch have always championed. Imagination doesn’t come from being overstimulated. It comes from boredom, from deep thinking, from letting your mind wander. Basically, a lack of stimulation.

But how do you nurture those qualities in a world that not only demands, but monetises our attention? Today, we’re served mind-numbing anti-cinema, designed for second-screen viewing. You've seen those kinds of films and shows--your Selling Sunsets, your Below Decks, and the like.

They're usually packaged the exact same way. There's simple, heavily-padded stories with one-dimensional characters, and waaaay too many drone shots. This kind of TV media is purpose-built to be half-watched while scrolling on your phone. It exists to match the shallow, repetitive content we often consume on social media. It’s an exhausting cycle that slowly kills true creativity and imagination. And the worst part? Our brains are adapting to it.

The neuroscience of attention

For years, neuroscientists have been waving red flags about the effect digital media has on the brain. That deep focus you need to imagine, create, and innovate? It's in direct opposition to how social media is designed. Every little notification gives us a dopamine hit, and we keep wanting more. Over time, this rewires our brains to expect instant gratification. This makes slower, effortful creative processes feel like a chore.

And then, there’s the Default Mode Network (DMN). That's the part of the brain that kicks in when we’re daydreaming, zoning out, or just sitting there existing. This is crucial for creativity because it allows different parts of the brain to make unexpected connections. So, every time we pick up our phones in a moment of stillness, we interrupt this process. Instead of creating new thoughts, we outsource our imagination to algorithms. Welp.

The rise of frictionless content

It’s no coincidence that everything piece of media feels increasingly dumbed down. The social media ecosystem rewards speed, digestibility, and shareability over depth. Even creators with brilliant ideas are forced to package them in ways that fit the algorithm. This often means simplifying them to the point where they lose all nuance.

The result is a culture that prioritises reaction over reflection. Speed over substance. Engagement over genuine creative exploration. The consequences go beyond just art and entertainment. As media critic Delores McElroy, host of Filmsuck podcast and lecturer at UC Berkeley’s film and media department puts it:

“Our attention spans are being radically shortened. I am concerned because we need that capacity to read, and to think deeply over a sustained period of time about any given issue or concern. We are deprived of time to contemplate in our lives when contemplation is what we need the most to even begin to understand our rapidly changing world.”

The creators keeping imagination alive

Despite all this, there are still creators fighting against the tide. With enough digging, you can find artists who force us to slow down, engage, and actually think. Take my fave: Kitty Lever, a theatrical model and content creator. Her whimsical, surreal videos cut through the monotony of the digital landscape. She leans into the bizarre, the absurd, and the unexpected. She's constantly reminding us of what online creativity could and should look like.

Other artists in this space include:

• Jane Schoenbrun – A filmmaker with credits like We’re All Going to the World’s Fair and I Saw the TV Glow. Her work's all about tapping into the eerie, liminal spaces of internet culture. She forces us to ponder what happens when digital immersion replaces real-life experiences.

• Jenny Odell – The author of the bestseller book How to Do Nothing. In it, she makes a strong case for reclaiming our attention as an act of resistance against the attention economy.

• People reviving "slow content" – Independent filmmakers. Long-form essayists. The resurgence of physical zines. These are all signs that some people are actively pushing back against the flattening of creativity.

How do we reclaim imagination?

So, what can we do? Ditching social media entirely isn’t realistic for most of us, but we can be more intentional about how we use it.

• Practice “attention hygiene.” Be mindful of when and how you consume content. Even small blocks of uninterrupted offline thinking can help restore focus.

• Embrace boredom. Resist the urge to fill every idle moment with scrolling. Let your brain wander. You might surprise yourself.

• Seek out slow content. Read long-form articles and watch thoughtful films. Train your brain to engage deeply again.

• Create without sharing immediately. Social media tricks us into thinking everything needs to be posted instantly. Try making something—writing, drawing, brainstorming—without the pressure of immediate validation.

Imagination isn’t dead. But if we don’t fight for it—if we don’t make space for contemplation, for depth, for creative friction—it very well could be. And that’s a world far less interesting to live in. So, what will you do to keep yours alive?

-Sophie, Writer