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An Addicted Society

Walking across the streets of London, everyone seems to be in a rush. Everyone seems to have a place that they need to be, which is anywhere but in the here and now. We seem to be addicted to getting out of the here and now to some fantastical other place. Escaping the pain of the here and now, also, seems one of the primary drivers. This, curiously, is supported by the psychological literature, which has defined the minimisation of pain as one of our key drivers. Isn’t that a sad take on the human existence?

In recent years, the prevalence of mental illness has been reported to have vastly increased, in both men and women. An often-made counterargument is that mental illness has become more societally acepted, leading to higher rates of acceptance. However, substance abuse, including of alcohol, has also been reported to have increased fast. These developments seem to be particularly prevelant among women, as traditional gender roles are being changed. Alcoholism no longer remains something that is rather associated with men, while women are buried with child care and household chores. Importantly, mental illness is one of the highest risk factors for substance abuse, and vice versa.

And yet, these increases in mental health issues have been particularly prevalent among teens and other young people. Our society has been changing quickly, not least through increased digitisation. As Jonathan Haidt argues in his book The Anxious Generation, there might be a relation between the two — particular the use of phones and social media among teens. Phone use and misuse of substances are not the same thing. Withdrawal symptoms are usually benign and not physical. There usually is no actual physical or psychological dependence on our phones. These two things shouldn’t be mixed up. And yet, there are similarities between the two. Often, both phones and substanes serve as means of escapism from reality, and as desperate attempts to numb the pain that current society wreaks upon some of us.

This rush across London, sometimes, is interrupted by those without very much anywhere to go. Ever since the Conservative government embarked on its austerity policy, local councils have been deprived of budget — and with it, their ability to provide adequate shelter for everyone. As a result, homelessness doubled within the space of just a decade. People on the street, surely, were full of hopes and dreams, once upon a time. Some of them surely still are. Yet, now, it seems that society has forgotten about them. No one chooses to live in the street. It often goes hand in hand with addiction, as a result of years of neglect from society at large.

The homeless aren’t the only that society seems to have forgotten about. Only today, I read a moving story in the British news about a working-class woman whose life was lost because of the underfunding of the British healthcare system — also a result of Tory austerity politics. Apparently, due to fiscal pressures, the National Health Service increasingly replaces doctors with less educated assistants. While, in theory, everything they do should be checked by an experienced physician, this does not happen in practice. The family of the lost one rightly wondered whether it is fair that they’ve been working hard throughout their lives, and told their children to be gracious towards the police, doctors, and other members of society in public service. In fact, I arguably lost my best friend to the Tories and UK healthcare system, which wasn’t able to support him through the immense burden of mental illness and addiction.

This all makes one wonder: what is the light at the end of the tunnel? Are we really that is run by the wounds that the past has inflicted upon us? I, surely, could never believe that. I’ve always been an optimist, and will ever be one. Instead, it appears that many of us can easily lose themselves in what seems dictated by society. How could one not feel a little bad about oneself looking at social media, and all the perfects lives of others? How could one not doubt the irrelevance of our own actions, when highest political office often seems merely an exercise of egocentricity? How could one not lose hope a little when the world already seems deeply entangled in the climate crisis? Why does it all matter?

Ancient philosophers like Seneca already had important answers to those — and many other — questions. They held that we should try to find peace in ourselves and our loved ones. Whenever we wonder or worry, they advised that we should be kind to ourselves and expect the best rather than the worst — since we cannot know the future anyway:

life is not worth living, and there is no limit to our sorrows, if we indulge our fears to the greatest possible extent; in this matter, let prudence help you, and contemn with a resolute spirit even when it is in plain sight. If you cannot do this, counter one weakness with another, and temper your fear with hope. There is nothing so certain among these objects of fear that it is not more certain still that things we dread sink into nothing and that things we hope for mock us. Accordingly, weigh carefully your hopes as well as your fears, and whenever all the elements are in doubt, decide in your own favour; believe what you prefer. And if fear wins a majority of the votes, incline in the other direction anyhow, and cease to harass your soul, reflecting continually that most mortals, even when no troubles are actually at hand or are certainly to be expected in the future, become excited and disquieted.

In this spirit, believe what you prefer. Find joy in the little things, rather than getting lost in the big picture.