By Victoria Chen

The Twelve Steps to Internet Sobriety

As attendees of Internet and Technology Addicts Anonymous take turns telling their personal journeys, I’m struck by how much we have in common.
By Kate J. Kaufman

“My name is Kate, and I am an addict.”

This phrase is on the tip of my tongue as introductions begin at my first meeting of Internet and Technology Addicts Anonymous. But, when it’s my turn, the words don’t come out.

We begin with introductions, then read the program’s mission statement and the Twelve Steps of ITAA. Eventually, we reach a period for open sharing. As attendees take turns telling their personal journeys, I’m struck by how much I have in common with each one. I see in myself the early access to devices, the poorly regulated use as a teenager, the accidental all-nighters spent scrolling, and the relationships damaged due to technology use. Unexpectedly, I raise my own hand to share.

In a non-linear, stuttering fashion, I find a few sentences to say. I describe my desire to have hobbies beyond being chronically online, and how difficult it is to admit to having a problem as a high-functioning student. The stories come out of me before I have the chance to evaluate whether they’re true. I lean back in my chair, out of words at last.

“I hear you,” the person next to me says. I get chills.

Still, not everything I hear during the meeting sits right with me.

Through the meeting’s script, I learn that sobriety is defined differently for each IT addict. Before the meeting’s conclusion, individuals are encouraged to share their “recovery time” to celebrate with the group.

But how is abstinence possible when constantly surrounded by technology? What do we gain from pathologizing a core characteristic of our modern age? Can the lens of addiction help me address the parts of my life where I feel out of control?

I’d seen a flyer for the ITAA meeting in the Sever Hall basement a few days earlier and resolved to attend before even Googling it. Later, I learned that ITAA operates around the world, offering fellowship for those who want to “abstain from compulsive internet and technology use.”

The program is modeled after the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. Step one is to admit that we are “powerless over internet and technology” and that our lives have become unmanageable. The steps call on an addict’s “Higher Power” to “remove our shortcomings,” “restore us to sanity,” and erase “all these defects of character.” The final step is to “carry this message to internet and technology addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”

When the meeting officially adjourns, I’m not the only one whose device appears immediately in hand. Turns out, sobriety in ITAA does not mean being tech-free.

Earlier, Aeric and I had bonded over our matching grayscale screens. Vivian’s device, a square “dumbphone” also reappears while they share a Venmo handle for donations. ITAA participants were granted anonymity by The Crimson due to the sensitive nature of their program.

As chairs are folded and lights shut off, a few members invite me to join them for dinner.

Over rosemary fries at Clover Food Lab, I learn I’m not the only one who struggles with the term “addiction.” Lori, a 55-year-old who wears a pink cable-knit sweater and reminds me of the bishop’s wife from my hometown, expresses similar feelings. She has been involved with ITAA online but, like me, just attended her first in-person meeting.

“I haven’t fully bought into the idea of addict, although I’ll use the term loosely to reference the feelings that I have,” she says. “I get physical feelings of being unable to separate myself from my tech even when there’s more important things happening around me.”

Another self-proclaimed IT addict at dinner — who asked that her name not be used — describes addiction as an inability to stop being online.

“I would be absolutely exhausted from staying up. My eyes would be tired, I wouldn’t be having fun, I would be wanting to stop more than anything else, and simply be unable to,” she says.

Through her sobriety journey, she has cut out all unnecessary tech — “no social media, no online news, no random Googling, going down rabbit holes.”

Together, we discuss maladaptive internet use as an outgrowth of natural curiosity and a desire to understand the world around us. “It’s definitely adversely affected my life, but it’s a side effect of doing what I thought was good,” Lori says.

Aeric agrees, describing the behavior with another phrase: information seeking.

“If I’m looking for information that I don’t need, just because I want it, it’s not necessarily healthy,” he says. “Sometimes it’s better just to be comfortable not knowing.”

Aeric and Lori remind me that when they were my age, news was only accessible once a day.

“Now, I get my news from the website, and there’s variable reinforcement going on because I can log in, and I don’t know when there’s going to be a new story that’s going to break,” Aeric says. “If I read the news once a day, then I’m going to miss something,” He has been regularly attending ITAA for four years.

“I’m nostalgic for the days when we had a much less interconnected life,” Lori added.

As they describe their relationships with technology, I wonder if my bar for unhealthy internet use is different than theirs. Aeric and Lori are both middle-aged. If they were in their twenties, would their technology habits be considered abnormal?

On the other hand, if I adopt Aeric and Lori’s bar for unhealthy internet use, my own desire to stay informed is reframed as compulsive. It’s troubling. If this connectedness is actually a symptom of addiction, then what Lori tells me is true: “We’re just a world of alcoholics.”

I decide to talk with the founder of the ITAA’s Cambridge chapter for additional clarity.

Two days later, I’m sitting cross-legged on a yellow couch in a cozy Somerville home. Vivian sits in a swivel chair across from me, wearing a black hoodie. A large, curved computer monitor looms behind them.

Vivian tells me they’ve been doing twelve step programs for six years. Beginning with Alcoholics Anonymous, they’ve since become involved in Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous, Workaholics Anonymous, and ITAA.

ITAA faces particular challenges because it has less history than some other twelve step programs. While Alcoholics Anonymous was founded in 1935, ITAA was founded in 2017 and met online for months before its first in-person meeting.

Vivian started the Cambridge chapter at the end of 2023. In the first few months, Aeric was often the only other regular attendee. At this week’s meeting, I was one of eight people.

Because heavy internet use is normalized, Vivian tells me “there’s not a lot of social understanding or acceptance.”

Instead, talking about ITAA or internet addiction is often met with judgment. Vivian’s response is usually, “Be glad you don’t know what that’s like.”

Still, I’m hesitant to pathologize technology in the same way we talk about alcoholism or narcotic abuse.

Vivian addresses this concern by separating addictions into two types: substance and process. While substance addictions introduce chemicals to the brain through drugs or alcohol, the chemicals involved in process addictions are generated from behaviors, like scrolling.

Process addictions are context dependent; it’s not about merely using a screen, but what I’m doing on it. In other words, sobriety may look like owning an iPhone or keeping my social media accounts, but choosing not to use these tools for the particular behaviors that spark my uncontrollable use.

Even though Vivian uses the dumbphone they showed me when we first met, a smartphone rests on the coffee table. They try to only use it for maps.

Because abstaining from process addictions is less clear-cut than with substances, Vivian says “there’s a lot less long-term sobriety” in ITAA. Still, they don't doubt the benefit of the fellowship.

“I also am a pretty firm believer in harm reduction. Sobriety is not always possible for all people all the time. A lot of people in ITAA will continue to relapse,” they say. “One hopes that they get something.”

Leaving Vivian’s house, I still can’t decide whether the term “addict” applies to me. While I’ve certainly lost hours of sleep and missed out on in-person connections due to my tech use, my experiences don’t feel as extreme as stories I’ve heard — ones where every life decision is shaped by internet access.

Although I can’t wholeheartedly call myself an addict, the range of experiences at the ITAA meeting was so wide that I know I could find a place there, if I wanted to return.

I find comfort in learning that there are individuals who choose to confront the way they use technology. At the meeting, I’d felt such relief as we bonded over our shared battle with cravings for digital entertainment.

Every ITAA meeting ends with “a moment of silence for the addicted internet and technology user who is still suffering.” Over the hours I spent with fellow remorseful internet users, I didn’t feel a single urge to check my phone.

If you or someone you know is struggling with compulsive internet and technology use, ITAA hosts digital meetings daily. The in-person Cambridge meeting is held weekly on Tuesday from 6:30–7:30pm at 11 Garden Street. All are welcome.

— Magazine writer Kate J. Kaufman can be reached at kate.kaufman@thecrimson.com.

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