Editor’s Note: This post was originally published on Seattle 2.0, and imported to GeekWire as part of our acquisition of Seattle 2.0 and its archival content. For more background, see this post.
By Sasha Pasulka
My friend Jake is a landscaper. He doesn’t have a Twitteraccount, he’s never heard of Foursquare, and he’s never considered building atech startup. I saw him about a month ago, and he was thoroughly depressed. Hiswhole demeanor was one of defeat. He just looked beaten. I was worried, and Iasked him what was wrong.
“I’m lonely,” he said. “I feel completely disconnected fromthe world.”
“What do you do all day?” I asked him.
“I dunno. I go to work, I go to the gym, I play Xbox. That’sabout it.”
I gave him a hug and I told him he could always call me ifhe wanted to hang out. I invited him to parties. I introduced him to some of myfriends. Nothing seemed to help much.
I saw him again last week, and, this time, he was walking onclouds. Everything about him was joyful. He couldn’t wipe the grin off hisface. The world was his oyster.
“Ha. You totally met a girl.”
“No!”
“What is it then? What changed?”
He flashed me a sideways grin. “I gave away my Xbox.”
The Addiction
The video games Jake thought he loved had been making himmiserable. He’d spent all his free time playing Xbox, chatting on his headsetto his fellow players from around the world, but it kept him from interactingwith the real world. Over time, he became increasingly isolated by a devicethat gave him access to people all over the world.
“I didn’t realize how much it was holding me back,” he toldme. “I was completely chained to it. It made my world so small.”
Seeing this change in Jake made me think about myrelationship with the Internet and with social media. I exist in a self-selectedworld where my colleagues (fellow entrepreneurs and social media junkies) constantlyupdate their Twitters and Facebooks and check in on Foursquare and flip throughRSS readers on their iPhones or iPads whenever there’s a break in conversation –or, realistically, during theconversation.
We have our iPhones on the table at dinner. We say things toeach other like “Tell the waitress to come back in a minute, I have to tweetwhat you just said” or “Hang on, I’m looking for our location on Foursquare. Itkeeps bringing up the Buckley’s in Queen Anne. Why can’t it find the one inBelltown? Ah, there it is. Now then. What were you saying about beingpregnant?”
Not everyone lives in this world. Among my precious and tinycadre of non-tech friends, my obsessive relationship with the Internet isperplexing, in turns amusing (“You should really see yourself right now”) andfrustrating (“Seriously, can you just put down the iPhone and talk to me?”).
Freedom from theAddiction
There are few times in my life when I am separated from theInternet, and they are often forced upon me. Last summer, I stayed with friendsin a one-room cabin in a remote part of Idaho. Cell phones didn’t work andthere was no Internet connection in the cabin, built fifty years ago by myfriend’s grandfather. I’d been very, very apprehensive about going.
We slept and watched DVDs and took the boat out on the lakeand made s’mores over the firepit. I had no access to my 1800 Facebook friendsor the 300 people I follow on Twitter or the ex-boyfriends who need to beInternet-stalked every single day lest they change their relationship status insome way that will impact me emotionally (this spans every possible change), orall the publicists and account managers on email who really, really need me totell them today if we can do thatgiveaway of their new scented body lotion, or the tech blogs and gossip blogsand politics blogs and polyvore sets I watch religiously.
It was the most connected I’d felt in ages.
Now for the professional take on all this: Is Internetaddition a real thing?
In 2007, the American Psychological Association chose not to recommend that video gameaddiction be added to the edition of the DSM to be released in 2012, citing alack of research for evidence to conclude that video game addiction was adisorder.
In that same year, the American Medical Association declinedto recommend to the APA that they include Internet Addiction Disorder (IAD) asa formal diagnosis in DSM-V, citing a lack of research and unclear definitionsof the associated terms.
Yet, professionals in the field continue to insist thatInternet addictions (and not just porn!) are real disorders that leave lives indisarray, and they’re pushing to get IAD listed in future editions of DSM.
How to Recover
Since some of us have trouble conceiving of a life withoutInternet access, here are some concrete suggestions for breaking the cycle:
The Family Vacay
Plan a phone-free weekend vacation for your family or withyour friends. At the start of the trip, phones should be collected, storedsomewhere safe, and be turned off throughout the trip. Take a road trip – checkout Leavenworth or Vancouver or the Olympic Peninsula. Go hiking or camping.See a concert at the Gorge. Try new restaurants. Go back to your hotel and playboard games. Pour a glass of scotch and challenge your brother-in-law to a gameof chess, while your sister and your wife are sprawled out across the livingroom reading books. (The real kind, made of paper.) Talk to them withoutdistractions. Focus on being 100% present for them. Reconnect with the thingsthat make you human.
The Retreat
If you think you can do it, just turn your damn phone offfor the weekend. Don’t check email. Don’t check Twitter. Don’t turn on yourcomputer, not even to jot something down on your calendar or to check what’sgoing on at TechCrunch. If you manage to do this successfully, please volunteerto coach others in your methodology.