Amy, a 27-year-old software developer, has struggled with disordered eating since she was a teenager. “But after learning to code, I got much better,” she said in a research interview. “I often code for ten or more hours without stopping.” Her psychiatrist, however, worried that Amy has replaced one compulsive behaviour with another.
“Digital addiction” is often used to describe our relationship with smartphones, social media and other digital technologies. This way of thinking suggests that people get “hooked” on digital activity because their body becomes “addicted” to dopamine. It borrows from models of substance addiction: the focus is on the physical need to keep using a substance because the body has adapted to it, despite harmful consequences. The implied solution is straightforward: abstinence, which translates into practices like digital detox.
But Amy’s story, which forms part of our ongoing research, points to a more complicated reality of our relationship with digital technology. Coding consumed much of her time and attention, yet it also helped her earn an income and build a professional identity. Like many forms of digital engagement, it was not just a distraction but a way of navigating life.
As research shows, for many people, digital technologies are not only a source of entertainment but key components of their education, work and social mobility. Unlike in the case of addictive substances, opting out of digital life is easier said than done when schools, banks and public services increasingly require it.
How people relate to digital technology isn’t just about them as individuals. It’s shaped by their personal vulnerabilities, but also by digital environments intentionally built to hook us, and by the wider social conditions people live in.
So comparing smartphones to substances like alcohol, tobacco or drugs can be misleading. It overlooks the fact that digital devices have become a kind of essential infrastructure for daily life. Given how we have built our lives around them, these technologies are now very difficult to live without.
How, then, do we develop a sustainable relationship with technologies such as smartphones that are both indispensable and potentially harmful?
The sugar model
Amy’s story with disordered eating may be useful here. Recovery from an eating disorder isn’t about eliminating food altogether, but about learning to live with it.
In the same way that we cannot remove food from our lives, it is also difficult to remove digital technologies from our everyday. So the challenge becomes developing ways of living with them.
Take, for example, sugar. In many countries, foods high in sugar are subject to a wide range of public health measures. Think national food safety standards, public health interventions, school nutrition policies, limits on advertising. So it’s not about focusing on one thing only. Rather, it’s the interaction between all of these interventions that shapes patterns of consumption and impacts wellbeing.
A similar approach is needed for digital technologies. At the level of state and industry governance, this includes regulation of platform and design – particularly when it is aimed at capturing and holding users’ attention.
Just as food labels describe ingredients, nutrition and additives, digital products could disclose what data they collect, what algorithms they run on and what psychological techniques keep their users engaged.
The UK’s decision to ban social media for under 16s while continuing to expand digital literacy and coding education reflects an important point: not all digital technologies are the same.
“Digital use” cannot be treated as a single category to be either embraced or banned. Like sugar, the question is not whether children should have it at all, but what kinds, in what quantities, and in what conditions.
Beyond counting calories and screen hours
Just as sharing a meal with family affects people differently from eating alone, playing games with friends is not the same as scrolling endlessly through social media. Both count as screen time, but they create very different social and emotional experiences.
Reflecting on our own digital habits remains important. But tracking screen time is like counting calories: it tells us how much, but not necessarily why. We have to ask ourselves what role digital technologies play in our lives.
Are they helping us work, connect, rest, escape, cope, feel less or more alone? Without this kind of reflection, self-tracking risks turning a complex social issue into a matter of individual self-control.
Understanding digital technologies through the lens of food rather than addiction shifts the emphasis in important ways. Both are domains where necessity, pleasure, risk and social obligation are intertwined, which is why abstinence may not be an adequate, long-term response.
Instead of treating excessive technology use as a matter of personal discipline, approaching them like some foods locates it within broader systems of design, industry governance, state policy and social practices. The challenge then is to integrate these different levels to make life with digital technologies sustainable.
- is a Research Fellow in Anthropology, Leiden University
- is a Research fellow, SOAS, University of London; University of Cambridge
- This article first appeared in The Conversation
