are you satisfied?
a commentary on collective dissatisfaction and escapism in the digital age
Cambridge Dictionary defines addiction as:
An inability to stop doing or using something, especially something harmful.
addiction to: He developed an addiction to painkillers.
drug addiction: He had a problem with drug addiction, but has been better since getting treatment.
alcohol addiction: She suffered from an alcohol addiction.
gambling addiction: She developed a gambling addiction.
Notice how we typically reserve addictions for the individual: ‘He developed an addiction’; ‘she had a drug addiction’; ‘he went to rehab for his addictions’. We tend to see addictions—like most modern suffrage—as a self-inflicted lapse of judgment, a problem meant to be criticized and probed. Yet, we seldom acknowledge the collective addictions that plague global culture. If we do, it’s usually too late. It’s too uncomfortable to address—would require too much of us—so we do our best not to think about it. That being said, there’s a new addiction we’ve all fallen victim to as it sweeps across our globe at an alarming rate: Our desire for escapism.
We’ve become addicted to the pursuit of escape, running away from people, places, connections, real life—everything that makes up the human experience—all in some bizarre attempt to absound ourselves from our mortality.
In a world where avoidance is rarely punished, and social media provides a constant avenue for escape—while sanctioning a sense of faux-connection—why would anyone bother to expose themselves to anything real? Algorithms produce perfectly curated ‘For You’ feeds, taking notes of your interests, your passions, your fears: It’s more attentive than your ex and a hell of a lot less daunting than opening up to a stranger. Why risk discomfort when you can seek solace on a tiny screen, locked away in your room? The underlying truth that none of us want to admit is that escapist behaviours rarely leave us feeling fulfilled. Instead, these near-constant disappearances into the digital void—ever-accessible due to the continuous merging of the digital realm with the physical—have nurtured a neverending sense of collective discontentment within each of us: a void no amount of endless scrolling will ever fill.
I don’t disqualify myself from this observation: I’m always hungry for more. I’ve never been satisfied a day in my life. But don’t blame me, my incessant desire for abundance is a byproduct of the society I’ve been forced to mature in. Freud was wrong about many things, but he was certainly right when he stated that any unfulfilled desires will create an affluence of dissatisfaction within someone. Social media promises to cure you of your dissatisfaction (conveniently leaving out it was the sole creator of it) if only you keep swiping, scrolling, liking.
One of society’s foremost missions is to create a world completely enmeshed in the digital realm: Meta’s unceasing push toward virtual reality1, the steep incline in AI advancements2, and the venture capital industry’s decades-long interest in tech startups3, all signal a shift toward a new reality, one that’s weaponizing our collective dissatisfaction as a catalyst to plunge us deep within The Internet’s inescapable grip. Dissatisfaction is the most powerful driver in the shift toward an entirely digital future: “The right kind of dissatisfaction is a mindset of constantly questioning the status quo and striving for more-than-incremental change…dissatisfaction can be taught. Under the right conditions, it can be contagious.”4
