I helped build the internet. Now I am making the case for logging off

My work across decades has spanned sectors, geographies, and cultures, focusing on exploration, discovery, and innovation. My husband and I have defined our work across business, nonprofit, and philanthropy simply: “We invest in people and ideas that can change the world.”

I spend much of my time exploring and sharing exciting developments that hold great promise. This work has taken me from building the Internet revolution, to working in villages and cities across the globe and America’s 50 states, to the boardroom of the National Geographic Society, where I just completed a decade of service as Chairman of the Board.

It has been a true privilege to lead these efforts, and we have made a real impact in many ways. But this work can be difficult—my years of engagement in brain cancer research highlighted what an unknown frontier the brain represents. The work can also be complex—like rolling out initiatives across diverse geographies and communities, but it continues to energize and engage me. At nearly every turn, technology has been central to our quest to “find a better way,” and it has played an important part in every one of the success stories in our portfolio.

But here, as we close out 2025, the reality is stark: while technology can still bring hope and promise on many fronts, the underbelly of its excessive use has become painfully clear. Americans now spend over seven hours a day looking at screens. Meanwhile, rates of anxiety, depression, isolation, and loneliness have skyrocketed, particularly among young people. Our brains are being rewired in ways none of us asked for, and the health and wellness of the population more broadly are seriously at risk. And sadly, the promise of technology to bring communities together that animated so many of us in our early tech careers has instead led to rising divisions between people and places.

What can be done?

So, what can be done here to address this worrisome trend? Well, it turns out a solution that might hold great promise was hiding plainly in sight: indeed, the answer doesn’t lie in abandoning technology, but rather in the simple act of logging off and getting out in nature.

That’s right. It turns out nature is a powerful medicine.

Recent research validates what many of us intuitively know: a Stanford meta-analysis of 449 studies found that nature exposure significantly improves mental health outcomes, including mood, stress, and anxiety. Perhaps most encouraging, researchers found that just 20 minutes in a park—even without exercising—people reported feeling better, while repeated nature exposure of as little as 10 minutes yields measurable benefits for those with mental illness. But the benefits extend far beyond individual wellness.

These aren’t marginal improvements—they’re prescription-strength results from the most accessible medicine on Earth. The barrier to entry is often just putting on a pair of sneakers or hopping on a bike. The beauty of outdoor engagement is its democratic accessibility. Unlike expensive gym memberships or specialized equipment, stepping outside costs nothing and requires no particular skill. So whether you walk around the block, walk for 20 minutes in your neighborhood, or find a way to hike in a city, state, or national park, walking delivers measurable health benefits.

A fork in the road

We stand at an inflection point. We can continue accepting digital isolation and declining physical and mental health as inevitable byproducts of technological progress, or we can recognize that the human experience began outdoors, in communities, solving problems together—and that our health depends on experiences no app can replicate.

This isn’t about returning to some romanticized past. It’s about balance. It’s about making outdoor, screen-free time as routine as checking email. It’s as simple as taking a walk, encountering neighbors or nature at a park or in your community. Where getting outdoors is the default, not the exception.

The screen will always be there when you return. But the opportunity to rebuild America’s health and social cohesion by getting outdoors requires intention. We need individuals choosing strolling over scrolling, employers encouraging outdoor breaks as part of a productive workday, healthcare providers prescribing park time, and local leaders who prioritize walkable communities that enable us to meet and greet each other and Mother Nature.

The question isn’t whether you have time for outdoor connection—it’s whether you can afford not to make time for the wellness program hiding in plain sight.

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