With
all this talk about a digital detox, let’s take a step back and look at the pervasive,
theory-driven tension between contemporary psychologists…
Do
online addictions really exist?
Some have taken the alarmist notion of ‘online addictions’ very seriously. The epidemic of online problem behaviours has even coerced American psychologist, Dr Kimberley Young, to develop a counselling plan and ‘online empowerment centre.’ Young believes online addictions are very real, and include dependencies upon gaming, web surfing, consumer websites and cyberporn.
Some have taken the alarmist notion of ‘online addictions’ very seriously. The epidemic of online problem behaviours has even coerced American psychologist, Dr Kimberley Young, to develop a counselling plan and ‘online empowerment centre.’ Young believes online addictions are very real, and include dependencies upon gaming, web surfing, consumer websites and cyberporn.
But alas, other psychologists have a very different perspective.
Let’s
take this article written by Dr Pamela
Rutledge. She feels the media circulate an insane amount of unqualified and
speculative rubbish. Essentially, the media use correlative
studies as an effective excuse for stating causative inference. In other words, you can’t just call 8 hours of
Internet use a day an addiction,
unless you have empirical evidence and a
lot of scientific leverage to validate your claims. An article worthy of
copious Rutledge sneers can be found here.
So,
what are some of the alleged symptoms of online media withdrawal?
According to participants in a particular social media detox called Unplugged - phantom phone vibrations, a
sense of panic and impending doom, and lastly, the death of your digital soul
might ensue.
But
hurrah - from the polarised perspectives of different scholarly opinions, here come
the middle grounders…
After
emailing professor of Gambling Studies, Dr Mark Griffiths, he invited me to
share his comprehensive research on a few areas of concern
for hyper-onlinianism (okay I made that term up). For example, Griffiths
agrees there are a plethora of unsubstantiated theories developing around
addictions associated with being ‘switched on.’ But he’s also given some weight
to the observations of Chinese scientists,
who’ve found the brain matter of traditional addicts also mirrors the brain abnormalities of excessive Internet
users. Scary stuff.
However,
Griffith argues that the majority of articles do not distinguish between addictions to the Internet (such as excessive
chat-room use) and addictions on the
Internet (for example, pre-existing addictions such as gambling, which manifest
online).
Undoubtedly, the present empirical rigour which online addiction studies harbour is problematic. Needless to say, whether or not the science can be validated, there are definitely individuals who feel that studies should continue to measure just how severe online dependency has become.
Current
research in the science community has dabbled with measurements such as the
Bergen
Facebook Addiction Scale. Though imperfect for measuring all online dependencies, this scale can provide
insight into how much individuals feel the need to socially bridge themselves
with their online counterparts.
So should we be in a panicked flurry about our future generations and the online addictions that might await them? Perhaps. But there is no question that traditional problem behaviours will manifest themselves in ways we have never seen before.
So should we be in a panicked flurry about our future generations and the online addictions that might await them? Perhaps. But there is no question that traditional problem behaviours will manifest themselves in ways we have never seen before.
Taking
a slight tangent – a poignant reminder of just how pervasive Internet
technologies are, is inescapable when we look to our toddler community. An article
by Siobhan Duck reiterates the events
of a recent Play School episode,
where the host tweeted, blogged and emailed his foetal audience. Instead of
guessing which shaped window the host will next explore, or what issues might
be troubling Big Ted’s psyche this week – text savvy littlies might now have
the skills to be simultaneously tweeting about the atrocities of Jemima's dress sense on any given day: #Pig-tails are so last Spring.
So,
Internet addictions might exist (and
may even lay dormant in our future gens) – but the push for such research
highlights just how many people have felt the pull of their inner digital demon.
Regardless of whether or not these addictions are empirically substantiated, modern
individuals are definitely opting for ways to escape
the digital drone of their existence.
Source:
Here
are a few realistic escape plans for your digitally bound soul – ranging from
the more fancy, to those made in jest:
(1)
Make a commitment to a digital detox plan, at least once a month. It could
range from fancy
getaway plans, which take away your beloved Internet gadgets on arrival, to requesting the family ‘honours’ Sunday as the
digital Sabbath. Whichever option you choose - let this time of rest be a
reminder of what the simple life was once like.
(2) Follow a simple digital diet recommendation
by Daniel Sieberg. His
book suggests avoiding the dreaded Tech
Turd moment, i.e., don’t just dump your technology around like a piece
of poo. This will quickly make places like the kitchen and restaurant tables
off limits for your phone, unless you feel comfortable with metaphorically
dumping a poo on a table. It’s just not good etiquette.
(3)
Choose the human over the device. If you can’t remember which friend you had
dinner with last night because your memory compellingly tells you that they had
a computer screen as a face… you may need to check yourself before you wreck
yourself… after all, we all run the risk of becoming an online addict…
I will now leave you with the wise words of Mr Sieberg - a digital demon exorcist a.k.a 'digital diet' extraordinaire...
I will now leave you with the wise words of Mr Sieberg - a digital demon exorcist a.k.a 'digital diet' extraordinaire...



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