My dad thinks that I’m addicted to the internet. But does such a condition actually exist?

Dr Kimberley Young wouldn’t just acknowledge your dad’s opinion, she’d probably urge him to pack you off a few sessions of in-depth counselling. Her investigations into so-called Internet Addiction Disorder (IAD) have led to a book, Caught In The Net, which presents “the stories of dozens of lives shattered by a compulsion to surf the net.” Her website, The Center For Internet Addiction Recovery, contains a wealth of highly-compulsive reading material which allows you to spend several hours browsing and listening to podcasts to determine whether or not you actually have a problem. “Do you block out disturbing thoughts about your life with soothing thoughts of the Internet?” asks her Internet Addiction Test; score too highly, and online counselling is recommended at $95 per hour – although free “recovery screensavers” are promised to be “coming soon”. Meanwhile, Dr Ivan Goldberg, an ally of Dr Young, has developed a list of symptoms of IAD, ranging from the mundane and familiar – “internet is accessed more often than was intended” – to terrifying cold turkey scenarios: “tremors, trembling, involuntary typing movements of the fingers.”

But before you rush to the phone to make an appointment with your GP, there’s an equally vociferous group of psychologists who consider the theory of IAD to be deeply flawed, and that speculation about its nature merely creates needless worry. While none of the respondents to this week’s Cyberclinic admitted to making involuntary typing movements while away from their computers, many admitted to overusing the web – but aren’t that bothered about it. “When I’m online, I’m reading or writing,” says Helen Coutts. “If I was sitting quietly reading a book, or writing a letter at a desk, no-one would be telling me that I had some kind of disorder.” The benign nature of net browsing is something that a few people commented on; yes, people might spend too much time online, but they might also argue with their partner, eat too many all-butter croissants or have unsavoury thoughts about minor celebrities, and these things can’t really rank alongside schizophrenia or depression. “There’s just something about finding an updated page, or a new bit of information, that gives a momentary pleasure,” writes Neil Scott. And as someone whose internet-enabled phone is used rather too frequently to settle pub disputes over the actors who played various 70s sitcom characters, I could probably class myself as an addict – but a reasonably well-adjusted one. Addiction to online pornography or online gambling has its own methods of treatment, but as of now, internet addiction itself isn’t a recognised psychopathology, appearing in neither the ICD or the DSM – the two internationally recognised handbooks for diagnosing mental disorders – although the likes of Dr Young are lobbying for its inclusion.

The particular compulsion to check email was singled out by a few people, including Steve Hill. “I get this need to hit the “check email” button perhaps 2 or 3 times in the space of 10 seconds,” he says, “even though my mail program is already set up to check for new mail every minute.” Tom Stafford, co-author of the book Mind Hacks, has already identified this issue as a “variable-interval reinforcement schedule” which he himself experiences; you keep checking, as you never know exactly when the reward of that long-awaited email will finally drop into your inbox. For a solution to this behavioural problem, he has come up with various ways of the link between the action and the reward being weakened, including a 5-minute delay between hitting “check mail” and the mail actually being checked by the computer. Software companies, however, are unlikely to be lining up to implement Stafford’s recommendations.

Of course, the social contact of email, instant messaging and online forums is an unquestionable benefit of the internet, and, as Jon McLean points out: “There are dozens of people who I would never have met without the internet, and there’s no way that the time I spend communicating with them online can be possible be deemed unhealthy.” But if you’re not reassured by any of this week’s correspondents, reader Nick Landau has a simple method of self-assessment: “Just try not using it for a week.” And if you can make it through the next seven days without at least a twinge of longing, well, you’re made of sterner stuff than I am.