A screen addict on the couch
A few months ago, during a therapy session, I mentioned the possibility that I might be addicted to screens. The psychologist asked what I do when I’m not looking at them. I could only come up with a few things — all simple, some pathetic, like “washing dishes.”
She said it’s common for addicts, upon recognizing their addiction, to find themselves in an existential void. I think there’s no doubt that “washing dishes” is a sign of a huge void, right?
I realized this problem while reading these three paragraphs published by Dave Rupert:
I had a small, intrusive realization the other day that computers and the internet are probably bad for me. I mean that beyond the general advice to touch grass. From an ADHD and generalized anxiety perspective, computers and the internet have become an endless supply of poison pills for my brain; feeds full of constant dopamine hits with doom at every turn.
This is hard to accept because a lot of my work, hobbies, education, entertainment, news, communities, and curiosities are all on the internet. I love the internet, it’s a big part of who I am today, but I understand how its incentive structures harm me. I’m not planning to unplug and go off-grid yet, but it did inspire me to come up with a “priority of constituencies” for my idle hands and downtime:
Instruments over pads of paper over laptop over tablet over phone.
More people identified with this. Jim Nielsen:
Per Dave’s comments, I have this feeling somewhere inside of me that the internet and computers don’t necessarily align in support my own, personal perspective of what a life well lived is for me. My excitement and draw to them also often leave me with a feeling of “I took that too far.” I still haven’t figured out a completely healthy balance (but I’m also doing ok).
Tech websites have a strange obsession with devices that promise to wean us off screens, especially phone screens. These are “dumb phones,” Kindle-like devices, apps to restrict access to addictive apps, and so on. Once the initial excitement wears off, none of this works. It’s almost a mantra of mine to state that more technology isn’t usually the solution to problems caused by technology.
Coincidentally, the latest episode of the (pt_BR) vibes em análise podcast addressed the topic of “digital compulsions.” They manifest in many ways, from the usual suspects (social media) to the more recent ones (betting).
I don’t fit into the categories discussed by André and Lucas, the podcast hosts. I barely use social media because it doesn’t really appeal to me, and I’ve never bet on anything — in fact, I have an aversion to betting of any kind.
For me, the pleasure of the screen stems from the “containment” of the space it displays: my computer, my phone, my website, my reading list. Sometimes I find myself obsessed with trivialities, like organizing directories and files, processing unread items across various apps, or tweaking the layout of this blog. In moderate doses, these activities act as mood regulators. Even if “useless,” they are calming.
The problem is when I overdo it. My now-legendary obsession with this blog’s layout, for example, reached critical levels in late 2024. I found myself neglecting my writing to fiddle with pixels that no one would even notice.
I also have some moral outbursts related to consumption, which I can’t justify and which, as an indirect effect, glue me even more to my screens, leading to a “hangover” heavy with regret.
It’s become a running joke at home how many times I’ve promised to trade my iPhone for an Android and my MacBook for a Linux laptop, because they’re open-source software, unlike Apple’s proprietary. When I get into this frenzy, I spend days researching devices, alternative apps, trying to find solutions to hypothetical problems, imagining “what it would be like.” Until I give up. It’s too complicated, not worth it; I have no complaints about the things I use.
On two occasions — early 2024 with an Android phone (pt_BR) and February of this year with a ThinkPad running Linux — I didn’t adapt. I mean, I could adapt and use them, but with the devices right there, I was hit by a wave of laziness. Why put myself through that unnecessary hassle? I have so many more useful or enjoyable things to do…
I’m getting off track. Let’s get back to it.
As with any addiction, I think acknowledging the problem is the first step toward trying to fix it.
I can see some progress in these two months since I accepted my screen addiction. It helps that this battle overlaps with another one I’ve been fighting for a long time: slowing down and trying to live at a more human, less machine-like pace. Meditation is also helping.
Perhaps it’s no coincidence that so many people are realizing this at almost the same time. And that’s why I decided to dust off this somewhat rough, somewhat embarrassing draft, which had been gathering digital dust for about two months, and publish it.
We’re not alone. We’re not weirdos. (Okay, maybe a little.) My case is mild compared to heavier addictions, like social media and betting. It would even be inelegant to compare it to them. We do, however, have one thing in common: the digital world, the internet, and the entire apparatus created to keep us glued to screens for as long as possible, living out a particularly bad episode of Black Mirror.