Close encounter with Dr. E
Put your nose on the whetstone, your shoulders on the wheel, and your eyes on the ball. Most importantly, don’t blink, because if you do, the world might disappear. Every day, the world as we know it is being reshaped by the hands of technology.
Each of the following changes has an electronic signature:
Work – The workplace is now a home.
Schools – chalk and blackboards have been replaced by I-pads, laptops and distance learning.
Healthcare – Bedside becomes telemedicine.
Leisure – Fishing rods and campfires gave way to online gaming in dazzling virtual worlds powered by Xbox, Nintendo and PlayStation.
Keeping up with these changes is difficult. But what if you are raising children? How do parents preserve and protect the innocence of childhood in the face of electronic dangers?
Today’s article is about an emerging disorder called Internet Gaming Disorder (IGD). By understanding IGD, you can better protect your child and yourself from the effects of this new non-drug or behavioral addiction.
Today’s column begins with Joshua, a boy who progressed from playing computer games to playing competitive team online games. As you read Joshua’s story, see if you can spot these elements of addiction:
A focus on gaming drives daily use.
Over time, tolerance develops, extending daily use to 5-10 hours.
Past hobbies and non-gaming friends will be abandoned.
Despite the hurt—falling grades, lack of sleep, parental arguments—the game goes on.
Deceptions and lies about excessive gaming begin to emerge.
When parents stop playing games, withdrawal symptoms can occur—anger, irritability, and anxiety.
Gaming becomes a way to escape life’s problems and a powerful social network.
Game player portrait:
Joshua is 5-foot-10, 140 pounds, rail-thin, with curly brown hair and a photogenic smile. That was him at 17 years old. Let’s go back to when he was 6 years old.
Born in St. Louis, the son of Michael, a computer engineer, and Denise, a second-grade teacher. He has two sisters. Fearful of his sisters, Josh would retreat to his room to practice his hobby, the trumpet. His walls hang with posters of iconic trumpet players: Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis. Under the musical wing of his mother (she played the piano), he began taking private lessons.
At the age of 10, he became president of the school band. At the age of 12, he was hired to play in the orchestra of musicals such as Cats and Hamilton. But when he was 13, his parents divorced and his world fell apart. He and his mother moved to Indiana, where she took a teaching job. His sisters were all in college, so Josh found himself alone. He started school, joined the marching band, but made no friends.
The only contact with his father is online, where they play racing games and Minecraft. For his 16th birthday, his father bought him two expensive gaming systems. Josh entered the world of competitive team online gaming.
At 17, Josh had two hobbies: his girlfriend Natalie and online gaming. Natalie loves games, so they play for 6-10 hours at a time on the weekends. He coined the player name “Phantom Four,” which he earned for his gaming skills at sneaking into enemy territory without being detected.
His relationship with his mother changed radically. Everyday arguments are easily triggered – “Josh, get up and go to school, you’re late,” “Josh, the school called you and you’re failing algebra,” “Why did you lie to me about quitting the band?”
Josh dumped his girlfriend and stopped all contact with his father. Desperate to help her son, Denise dismantled his gaming system. Josh went crazy – “I need them back now! I promise to only play on the weekends.” For the next three days, Josh was anxious, hostile, and frustrated.
Denise made him sign a contract stipulating that he could not play more than 10 hours a week, and then she returned his game. Two weeks later, at 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning, she eavesdropped on his doorstep.
“Guys, it’s game time! It’s Phantom Four and I have cheat codes for extra ammo – it’s Call of Duty time!”
“Killer Six Online (Steve from Los Angeles).”
“Death Mel is ready (Mel from Sydney, Australia).”
“I’m fine,” replied Brit-kill (Sean from London).
Denise listened, struck by the kinship the four boys had formed. “Oh my God,” she thought, “it’s like they’re family.” She sighed, “Have I lost my son?”
Questions and Answers:
Q1: Is IGD an official disease in the United States? not yet. It is listed as a new disorder under investigation in DSM 5 (Diagnostic Psychiatric Manual). In China, IGD is a true diagnosis and targeted treatment.
Q2: Is IGD common? An Asian study found that 8.4% of men and 4.5% of women in the 15-19 age group had IGD.
Q3: Dr. E, you describe IGD as a form of electronic moonshine, like alcohol or cocaine. How could someone without drugs have so much power? Neuroscience is the study of how the brain works and has uncovered mechanisms common to all addictions, whether they are drugs, sex, food, gambling or IGD. IGD was able to hijack Joshua’s life because of two specific characteristics of online gaming: the thrill of the game ignites the brain’s pleasure/reward centers and creates loyal bonds between team members.
Q4: As a parent, how can I protect my child from gaming issues? Set a strict time limit for the game. Don’t get addicted – play for 10 hours straight – allocate two hours of gaming time every day and have one day a week where you don’t play games. If problems arise, collect all electronic devices before bed. If necessary, use a computer monitoring program to monitor all aspects of your child’s electronic use.
Conclusion: Put your nose on your laptop, your hands on your mouse, and your eyes on the screen. The bottom line is, don’t worry if you blink. If you do this, the electronic world is stored in a sky-blue mist above your head, called a “cloud.”
The content of this article is for educational purposes only and should not be used as a substitute for professional treatment. The characters in this story are not real. Names and details have been changed to protect confidentiality.
Dr. Richard Elghammer contributes a weekly column to the Journal Review.