Published in The Attention Architect, a newsletter on LinkedIn, May 10 , 20 22

After my wife accidentally drove her SUV over the new motorized driveway gate the contractor installed, I shook my head in disbelief and said, "Maybe I should start taking drugs." 

It's not the first time the thought has crossed my mind, especially when the double-barrel stresses of life and work madness come at me hard, and I'm looking for a way to blow off some steam. 

But after some sober reflection, my answer is always no. 

However, I'll freely admit that the few illegal drugs I've taken before, mostly in my teens, provided me with fun times, momentary escape, and fleeting relief, or at least, that's what others told me about my walk on the wild side because I don't remember them all that well. But I recognized early on that you had to be extremely careful with drugs because I saw up close and personal the destructive effects they had on my brother and friends. Despite their seductive promises of relief and enlightenment, I choose not to take them. 

When I was growing up in the 1980s, our culture didn't know much about the negative consequences of drugs. Cocaine, crack, meth, acid, and other drugs were out of control, and so many people around me, particularly those supposedly sophisticated adults older than me, used drugs regularly. Much to my shock, I saw executives, lawyers, teachers, and even politicians using drugs, and I often wondered if it was time for me to get on the bandwagon. 

"Why not take a load off from life?" my friend asked. "Why do you have to be so square, boring, and conservative?" another girl quizzed. All the cool people were inhaling, snorting, and popping cool-sounding drug names like breath mints." "Why did I have to be the holdout?" I wondered. 

But as much as I seriously considered it, I couldn't get into drugs because one simple word got in the way of letting loose: oblivion.

TO BE ME OR NOT ME?

I've always had a deep interest in studying the various psychologies, religions, and philosophies of the world, and while training with a Buddhist monk in Thailand, I was surprised to find out that —long before ecstasy meant a drug or Nirvana was a band—the ancient people of the past also struggled with the addictive use of magical elixirs to cope with the stresses of life and indulge in their hedonistic sides. Just as today, some people then desired to escape life and go to "oblivion"—which is the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening— so they didn't have to be themselves for a while. But the Thai monk explained to me that this avoidance technique doesn't help life but makes it harder to confront. And that when you wake up from your escape, you'll still have to face being yourself except now with a hangover, some guilt and shame around the questionable activities you engaged in the night before, and with your courage and strength partially diminished. 

Call me old-fashioned and boring, but I didn't want to run from being myself; instead, I wanted to embrace being my "self" with all the clarity, strength, and healthiness I could summon. 

However, before you write me off as some religious puritan, I'm not a teetotaler, nor am I against the sale of drugs. I am ok with people choosing to lubricate the rubs and frictions of their lives as they see fit with alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex, shopping, or whatever coping mechanism helps them get through life. But when people tell me they're struggling with some issues in their lives while also getting smashed or high every night, I can't help but think that going to oblivion is not the answer. Yet, this is what the drug dealers promise us—the ability to escape the reality of our lives— often at our weakest moments. 

IS TECH AN ADDICTIVE DRUG?

Our modern-day addiction to technology parallels the false promises of drugs and the clever temptations of their billionaire drug dealers. 

Yes, addiction is a strong word, but as Edward Tufte, the professor emeritus of computer science, political science, and statistics at Yale University, explains, "There are only two industries that call their customers 'users:' illegal drugs and software." 

Tufte believes social media companies use the power of the dopamine effect that comes from "likes," pings, notifications, and constant scrolling, which is why they keep feeding us content to get us hooked on an addictive algorithm our ordinary minds can't fathom, much less resist. 

As fun, stimulating, and progressive-sounding as the narcotic of technology is, I worry that spending over 8-12 hours a day having a life in another screen world—say the Metaverse—avoids us embracing, living, and realizing the life nature designed in the real-world. 

Like my wine and beer habits, I don't mind spending some relaxing moments online, and I've even considered entering the Metaverse to see what it's all about, maybe even set up shop. But I don't share the overwhelming enthusiasm and belief others have for how much better, richer, and more fun life will be in the Metaverse than in the universe. 

But I'm the odd man out these days.

While everyone else is jumping into the Metaverse pool with reckless abandon, I'm worried we are yet again heading deeper into the ocean of "oblivion" territory where a few technological drug dealers make a killing off of our inability to pull ourselves away from swallowing these life-avoidance pills of not being ourselves, to be somewhere else other than present to our lives and others in real-time. 

The notion of looking at and interacting with my friends, family members, kids, and spouses with goggles on and as full-time imaginary avatars sounds fun and recreational at first. I've already tried it, and, I have to admit, like the first time I tried drugs as a teen, it was thrilling. But that's how we get hooked, and it's not something I want to become part of my daily habit. Nor do I want my almost 4-year-old daughter spending her critical mental development years and innate communication skills that are hardwired in her DNA getting addicted to every day. But I know that it will be hard to pull her away from Tech once she gets a taste of what these Walter White computer engineers and psychological wizards can cook up in their synthetic kitchens. And my old-fashioned pedestrian suggestions of reading, taking walks in nature, and hanging out with friends face-to-face "talking" won't stand a chance of competing against these seductive appeals. 

PARENTING WITH TECH

Earlier this year, my wife and I broke down and let our daughter use an iPad to watch Minnie Mouse cartoons. Not only did she pick up how to skip ads and play the next videos—which I discovered wasn't always Minnie Mouse related—she now screams bloody murder when we don't let her use the iPad. It's as if she goes through withdrawal symptoms, yet she's only gotten a little taste of these eye-controlling and mind-altering devices. 

While my wife and I may be able to hold her off from using technology for a few years, we can't beat the armies of highly trained, well-funded drug dealers of Silicon Valley that have posted their alluring screens on every street corner of our lives and minds. 

Again, call me a fuddy-duddy, but I want society and culture to wake up. I want people to realize the incredible importance and natural gift of face-to-face meetings and the power of engaging in live conversations without having goggles on. I want our kids to find ways to interact in the real world with the bodies and senses they already occupy, inhabit, and dwell in, not the promise of a better life in the simulated world of the Metaverse, despite its recreational bliss and obscene profit-making opportunities for a few plutocrats. 

HOW MANY EXPERTS DOES IT TAKE?

Many of the former makers and cooks of these technological drugs have already told us in countless articles, books, documentaries, and government pleadings to be extremely careful, tread lightly and think twice about using these addictive devices, apps, and programs. However, like a drug dealer handing out free samples—which is how my family and I already got our first taste of the Metaverse—their corner market peddling techniques are ubiquitous and absent of any moral regard. 

The founding father of Virtual Reality Computer Scientist Jaron Lanier, warned us about the invisible dangers of technological drug use. As he said, "It's the gradual, slight, imperceptible change in your own behavior and perception that is the product."

And as Tristan Harris, former design ethicist at Google and co-founder of Centre for Humane Technologies, put it, "We're training and conditioning a whole new generation of people that when we are uncomfortable or lonely or uncertain or afraid, we have a digital pacifier for ourselves. That is kind of atrophying our own ability to deal with that."  

Sandy Parakilas, former operations manager at Facebook and former product manager at Uber, tells us, "…so as humans, we've almost lost control over these systems. Because they're controlling the information that we see, they're controlling us more than we're controlling them." And I could go on and on with other tech experts warning us about these dangers, but few are listening. 

Like prior social interventions, we'll most likely lose the war on tech drugs because of the outrageous profit-making opportunities they provide.

And eventually, we might have to give in to the total oblivion of these technological palliatives and distraction devices. But I'm still trying to resist getting addicted to these drugs and keep my daughter from getting hooked. However, the tech-drug dealers know how to find my daughter (literally) when I am not around and when she is at her weakest moments. 

We should all consider the advice Jason Lanier gave in a Guardian interview: "My inclination is to say that people should become acquainted enough with what the technology can do so that they are less likely to be fooled by it. If you have learned a little bit of magic, you are less likely to be tricked by a magic show, but you still might enjoy the performance a lot." 

I study human behavior for a living every day—most often in places, but sometimes, ironically enough, on the internet— but I try to use Tech as a tool, not as a drug or form of escape. Even though they've already got us hooked deep, I will take Lanier's final prescription of doubling down on being human. I hope you will too!