In Part II of “Take a Hike, Not a Pill”, Mary Rose looked at the ways humans default to our reptilian brain. In Part III, she explores how we use technology to stimulate the same endorphin and adrenaline rush we used to attain naturally. It’s an awful lot like…addiction.
Yesterday while listening to the CBC, I heard about a survey for The World Unplugged Project conducted in 10 countries to see if young people could go for one day unplugged. The results were predictable yet scary. Many participants reported mental and physical symptoms of distress and “employed the rhetoric of addiction, dependency and depression” when reporting their experiences of trying to go unplugged for a full day.
The report said, “They expected the frustration. But they didn’t expect to have the psychological effects, to be lonely, to be panicked, the anxiety (and) heart palpitations.”
It occurred to me that most of these addictive tools did not exist when I was growing up. So what filled my time? What was I addicted to?
I remember feeling the need to get outside and play: To run, climb, skip rope, dance, laugh, talk, scream, and fight with other kids. I remember if I didn’t get to do this every day, I would feel lonely, anxious and cranky; exactly how today’s unplugged kids felt.
This upsets me. To pass on this kind of mentality — the need for constant approval and validation — to our children makes me wonder if maybe the chimps should be in charge. “Chimps in charge of our days and our nights; chimps in charge of our wrongs and our rights!”
We are constantly being encouraged to upgrade. This sends a message that what our kids are and what they have, right now, is not good enough and it never will be.
Can you say low self esteem?
In the absence of any self-derived sense of confidence, this essential feeling will be sought externally from others, from stuff, from food, from drugs, from video games, from sex – to name a few human favourites.
Since I mentioned video games, I should also mention that I find it ridiculous that manufacturers shout enthusiastically in ads about how their games are “just like the real thing!” Why are we satisfied with something that is “almost like the real thing” when we have the actual real thing in front of us all the time?
Take the recent invasion of shoot to kill games, for instance, in which kids are being repeatedly programmed to kill in a hyper-aggressive, obsessive and paranoid virtual world of combat. Why are these games so popular?
Playing these games triggers adrenaline, for sure. Perhaps, in a way, violent and realistic video games replace the rush we used to get from playing cops and robbers.
But what about the non-violent games? And reality television show obsessions? Do they give us a rush, too? Perhaps a different kind of vicarious and voyeuristic entertainment rush?
I know I sometimes “use”. Television shows and video games allow me to be satisfied to lie around and do nothing challenging, which is exactly what a part of me wants at the end of a long day of grueling work and thankless errand running.
But the pleasure I feel from end of the week slacking off very quickly turns into complacency, which in turn feels more like shameful dissatisfaction. I know that, for me, having been raised to move through everything in life – good and bad – rewarding myself with food, sloth and mindless entertainment at the day’s end does not result in feeling good.
I know that sometimes facing the hyper-addictive superficial world is too hard at times. It’s why people become addicted to everything from technology to drugs to television to alcohol. The amount of fear and insecurity that has become the standard in the modern hyper-disconnected technological world is as thick as icing, and it’s no wonder that people are slaves to it.
Technology is not a bad thing, but what started out as a really neat way to connect with people has morphed into something that has very little to do “staying in touch”. We have replaced meaningful communication with something as badly punctuated and abbreviated as our text messages. OMG, LOL we can’t evn f’in spel!
This gets back to reptile brain phenomenon I discussed last week. Human beings crave the sensations brought on by fight or flight syndrome, which is in part why I can’t deny that it’s awesome to get a text from a crush or to impulsively call up someone we’re mad at to yell (not that I ever do that), or to access all the gore and violence and sex and comedy we want from our homes — and thus we feel every emotion attached to all things RIGHT NOW.
Our brains crave adrenaline and endorphin fixes; and in a twisted way, technology provides these rushes. But at what cost?
Addiction to technology involves being artificially charged by large doses of desensitizing stimuli. Our ability to interpret real life cues is fading. Our ability to cope with real life is fading. Our brains are rotting inside their bony casings. We have to release endorphins and feel adrenaline rushes. We need to release the inner reptile in order to avoid repetitive addiction cycles and the depression that inevitably follows when we face life without the “junk”.
Next column: The Junk is in Your Own Backyard
Photo Credits
Video game addiction by Rachel Anne Seymour/KANSAN photo illustration
Great Article Mary, I put myself to the challenge in diposing of my mobile for 1 week and found that it was really hard to resist not using one! apparently its called Nomophobia. I found this great article explaning about Nomophobia and The Best Ways to Fight Cell Phone Addiction.