Hey,
It’s been a busy week for me as I work on my pivot (you can read about that in my previous post).
But I’ve still managed to carve out time to finish up an article about tech-addiction—specifically if we can and should be using the term addiction.
✌️
We all have a thing.
Your thing is procrastination. You’re a procrastinator who’s hopelessly “addicted” to tech.
You can’t stop. You want to stop—you’d love to stop—but you just can’t. And this, despite the throbbing pangs of regret; despite knowing all too well that you’d be infinitely happier and more at peace if you just got your stuff done.
It sucks.
But, as much as it sucks, your thing, your time-wasting bad habits, it ain’t all that bad—not when compared to actual addictions.
Drug and alcohol abuse. Gambling addiction. Those things are real disorders. Those things are legit addictions. Those things have consequences.
Our thing? Not so much. Years of TikTok won’t lead to liver disease. Quitting YouTube won’t provoke withdrawal-pangs, cold-sweats or seizures. Heck, Reddit doesn’t even give you bad breath—it was there before.
These tech platforms do nothing to you. Absolutely nothing. They just can’t be compared to traditional addictions—and yet. and yet. Maybe they can. Maybe they should.
Here’s my take on it.
Is it addiction… officially?
Are you “addicted” to tech, or are you addicted to tech?
Let’s try to minimize any subjective reasoning by pulling up what we can consider the most official and conventionally accepted prognostic tool for addiction (at least in North America, where I’m from).
This would be the 11-point checklist for Substance Use Disorders—the more precise term for issues of addiction—as provided in the 5th edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-V), published by the American Psychiatric Association1.
The presence of 2-3 of these symptoms indicates a mild substance use disorder, 4-5 symptoms indicate a moderate disorder, and 6 or more symptoms indicate a severe substance use disorder. Let’s see where we stand when comes to tech use and abuse. I’ll try to be conservative, erring on the side of not checking a box if it’s a mild yes or if there’s any uncertainty.
1. Hazardous engagement*: You have engaged in the behavior in ways that are dangerous to yourself and/or others.*
Let’s take the word “dangerous” in the literal sense, i.e. that it has the potential to cause real bodily harm.
This one is a clear “no”. Any long-term health effects of tech overuse can be attributed to a sedentary lifestyle and a lack of self-care habits, rather the apps and websites.
🔲 NO TICK
2. Social or interpersonal problems related to engagement*: The behavior has caused or exacerbated social or interpersonal problems—it could be arguments with your spouse about your excessive engagement, or losing friends because you're now spending most of your time engaged in the behavior.*
Similar to the above point, the issue is not that it’s a yes/no for tech addiction—our issues have no doubt impacted our social and family life—it’s just hard to assign a causal link.
You’re feeling depressed… you therefore cancel on your friends… you therefore watch Netflix all night to pass the time.
Here, the Netflix watching isn’t the thing causing the degradation of relationships. It’s downstream of the core disorder.
Yet, even if a causal link exists (for example, binge watching sitcoms makes you less driven to seek out the real social interactions), the degree of this link is nowhere near as definitive as with traditional addictions, which are known to decimate social, professional and family connections.
So I’ll err on the side of no for this one.
🔲 NO TICK
3. Neglected major roles to engage*: You have failed to meet your responsibilities at work, school, or home because of your engagement in the behavior.*
Again, no.
At the end of the day, we’re all procrastinators here; not slackers. We will get our work done. We will take care of our obligations and responsibilities. We will do the exact bare minimum… but always at the last damn minute, and not before we’ve ruined our entire weekend.
🔲 NO TICK
4. Withdrawal-like symptoms*: When you stop engaging in the behavior, you experience restlessness, irritability, or other physical or psychological discomforts.*
No, not really. If you get triggered by something, you might be itching for your vice; but the vice itself doesn't provoke withdrawal symptoms.
🔲 NO TICK
5. Tolerance-like behavior*: Over time, you have needed to engage more and more in the behavior to get the same level of satisfaction.*
Okay, yes, here’s something I think we can tick with certainty.
Gone are the days where moderation was possible—where 15 minutes on the thing leaves us feeling satisfied and satiated. I mean, we keep trying to moderate… but it never happens. Even the smallest of tastes will nudges us down a doom-scrolling rabbit-hole.
☑️ YES TICK
6. Engaged in larger amounts or over a longer period*: You often spend more time engaged in the behavior than you intended, or you've been engaged in the behavior for longer periods than you intended.*
Yes. Just yes.
☑️ YES TICK
7. Repeated attempts to control engagement or quit*: You've tried to reduce or quit entirely, but haven't been successful.*
Again, yes.
☑️ YES TICK
8. Much time spent engaged*: You spend a lot of your time engaged in the behavior.*
That’s what actually distinguishes our vices from substances. It’s all about time. Our tech habits have lead to ridiculous and embarrassing amounts of wasted time. So yes.
☑️ YES TICK
9. Physical or psychological problems related to engagement*: Your engagement in the behavior has led to physical health problems like fatigue or deteriorating health, or psychological issues, like depression or anxiety.*
This one is similar to the first two in that it’s asking if there’s a causal link between the behavior and a negative impact. I said 'no' in both cases. It's just tricky to connect excessive phone or computer use to physical hazards and social harm.
Yet, when it comes to vices causing intricate psychological problems… I give it a resounding YES. There is zero doubt.
I recognize this might be a controversial position, but I believe this connection is both real and grossly unknown and unreported—although I suppose that’s changing slowly.
I see it in myself. I’m the before and after poster child. Before, I was constantly…
Depressed, lethargic, stuck in a low mood
Unmotivated, uninterested, apathetic
Unfocused, brain-fogged, unable to keep attention on any one thing.
And now, I’m just… I’m just better. Much better. It’s happened slowly, but looking back, it’s unreal how remarkable my improvements has been.
And I’m so confident and passionate about this that I’m literally making it my life’s mission to tell anyone who’d listen about this. Our tech vices are the ultimate wolves-in-sheep’s-clothing. They appear all benign and innocent, when really, they cause or exacerbate so many of the prevalent mental health issues of our generation. I believe getting “sober” from them is the best decision anyone under 40 can make2.
But I digress…
☑️ YES TICK
Activities given up to engage*: You have skipped activities or stopped doing activities you once enjoyed in order to engage in the behavior.*
This one’s another easy yes.
☑️ YES TICK
Craving*: You have experienced cravings or urges for the behavior.*
I’ll give this one a no for reasons described earlier.
🔲 NO TICK
In tallying up our checks against the DSM-V's criteria for Substance Use Disorders, we find ourselves with a score of six out of eleven. Where at the low end of severe addiction territory by clinical standards. There’s no denying that our relationship with technology is more complex and problematic than society generally acknowledges.
Yet, I can’t help feeling like this exploration isn't exhaustive. We've touched on various aspects, but there are still crucial criteria left unexamined—criteria that could further illuminate the nature of our tech habits and how they aren’t all that different from traditional addictions.
The missing criteria
What do all addictions have in common? According to neuroscientist and author Marc Lewis, addictions are best understood as learning disorders. They are the ways we’ve learned—read our brains have been physically wired—to cope with unpleasant feelings.
Simply said, they provide an easy escape.
Escape, I believe, is the hallmark of addiction—it’s what all addictive behavior, from drinking to doom-scrolling, have in common as their core cause and motivator.
It’s why most Vietnam-war veterans stopped taking heroin after returning home from their extremely escape-worthy circumstances.
It’s why marginalized communities and those with traumatic childhoods are ravaged by substance abuse. The people don’t have less morals or willpower; they have more reasons to escape.
And what makes addiction particularly perilous its self-reinforcing nature. The addictive behavior itself generates discomfort and pain, which then fuels a further need for more of the thing to escape the additional discomfort it generated.
It becomes a viscous feedback loop.
So, if I were to add a couple criteria for a substance abuse or behavior disorder evaluation, I’d add:
Does the behavior provide an escape? Does it relieve, distract, or pacify negative, uncomfortable or painful thoughts, memories, feelings and emotions?
Yep. 100%. That’s why we open up the app. That’s why we binge.
☑️ YES TICK
Does the behavior itself provoke more discomfort and pain?
Again yes. For us, this could come as the stress and anxiety of procrastination—which we’ll compulsively relieve by wasting even more time. Or else it’s the pain and regret of living a life of missed opportunities… sentiments swiftly forgotten by logging back into a videogame.
☑️ YES TICK
Where tech addiction trumps traditional addictions
Despite finishing with a severe classification, I have zero problem with regarding traditional addictions as markedly more harmful to the individual and to society (on a per capita basis).
But I hesitate to concede that they are more problematic. As dangerous and troublesome as they are, they pale in comparison to tech vices when it comes this: accessibility.
An alcoholic can throw out the booze in his cabinet and a gambler can blacklist herself at a casino. But an internet addict? Man, our vices are everywhere. They follows us around in our pockets. They’re always there as we try to study, work or advance on our side projects. They idle patiently, a click or keyboard tap away, beckoning us with push notifications and sweet little rationalizations.
And doing the equivalent of locking away the booze—setting up iron-clad webblockers or screen time controls—isn’t always a viable solution. It’s hard to restrict access to the unfunny memes of the internet, without also restricting access to the internet's amazing capacity to teach, connect and entertain.
And sure, injecting a recreational drug is much more of an intense and “better” escape than, say, opening up TikTok, but that’s hardly relevant. A escape is an escape. People like you and I will gravitate to the most benign, accessible and acceptable thing that works.
It’s no wonder that alcohol abuse is decreasing with each new generation. It’s not because we have less of a need for it; less of a need for an escape (which, considering my last grocery bill, is hardly the case). It’s because we don’t need to drink—not when we can escape for days with our computers and phones, all without incurring a nasty bar-tab or hangover.
So where does all this lead to? Can our thing, our compulsive and tireless tech habits be classified as addiction? Can it be compared to other afflictions like alcohol and drug dependencies and abuse?
Clearly, there’s no easy answer, but the fact that we've ticked many of the DSM-V boxes for substance abuse disorder means the comparison is not unfounded. Tack on the accessibility factor and tech addiction is undoubtedly one of the biggest problems of our generation.
- Simon ㋛
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Footnotes:
In the DSM-5, the term "Substance Use Disorder" specifically refers to problems associated with the use of substances like alcohol, drugs, and medications. However, the DSM-5 recognizes that certain behavioral addictions, which do not involve substance use, can also be problematic and akin to substance addictions in terms of their psychological impact, patterns of behavior, and effects on individuals' lives. The first inclusion of a behavioral addiction in the DSM-5 is "Gambling Disorder."
Other behaviors like sex and gaming, while recognized as potentially problematic and having addictive-like components, are not formally classified as addictions in the DSM-5 (but correct me if I'm wrong).I’m not saying this is the case 100% of the time. I’m not saying all case of ADHD and depression and motivation disorders are rooted exclusively in too much screen-time.
Think of it as analogous to Diabetes. Some people are born with "Type-I Depression": they have an genetic condition where their brain just doesn’t produces enough serotonin (or whatever the case may be). Other people, and I fit firmly in this camp, have developed "Type-II Depression" by their life experiences (for me it's happened through 10 years of being just been battered down, over and over, by self-control failures and criminally harsh self-talk. And now, just like how cutting sugar and processed foods can help a Type-II diabetic off their meds, I too am doing better—but I’m certainly not cured. I’ll probably never be “cured”; I just manage my depression, and I’m okay with that).