Yesterday I wrote on the popular HBO series Euphoria, arguing that, while it is notorious for its vivid portrayal of teenage drug abuse, sex, and violence, most commentators skip over the role that the Internet and smartphones play on the show. For example, it is not difficult to see the danger of Euphoria’s beguiling depiction of a character getting high:
And yet, to focus on such controversial content is to miss the “elephant in the room,” namely, that the culture of adolescent transgressiveness depicted on Euphoria is both facilitated and exacerbated by the characters’ seemingly unmitigated screen time. In this scene, the popular yet volatile football star Nate Jacobs (Jacob Elordi) “catfishes” an unsuspecting acquaintance Jules Vaughn (Hunter Schafer):
Without getting bogged down in plot details, it is worth adding that Nate’s motives in this scene are themselves wrapped up in a power struggle over digital identity and ownership. In real life, Jules would not talk to Nate; on the Internet, she is easily manipulated by him. Scenarios such as these crop up throughout the show, which, to be fair, never hides its embrace of chatrooms, social media, sexting, and so on. If “Gen Z” is the first generation to grow up as “digital natives,” Euphoria is the first show to explore the ramifications of this upbringing.
However, one might maintain that, all things being equal, the issue with drug abuse remains far more concerning. After all, “you can get addicted to drugs.” But this itself is a myopic view. As Adam Alter contends in Irresistible: The Rise of Addictive Technology and the Business of Keeping Us Hooked (2017), Internet addiction is an increasingly prominent form of behavioral compulsion that is threatening to cripple Western society. Moreover, to make matters worse, there are corporations that directly benefit from this type of addiction; thus they design their apps and sites to foster and reinforce it. As Alter explains:
A like on Facebook and Instagram strikes [a neurological note], as does the reward of completing a World of Warcraft mission, or seeing one of your tweets shared by hundreds of Twitter users. The people who create and refine tech, games, and interactive experiences are very good at what they do. They run thousands of tests with millions of users to learn which tweaks work and which ones don’t— which background colors, fonts, and audio tones maximize engagement and minimize frustration. As an experience evolves, it becomes an irresistible, weaponized version of the experience it once was. In 2004, Facebook was fun; in 2016, it’s addictive.
When paired with Nicholas Carr’s prizewinning book The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains (2010), Alter’s Irresistible implies that lamenting the debauchery and delinquency shown on Euphoria is almost beside the point. It assumes a degree of moral autonomy and reflection that is quickly eroding. The question is: what, if anything, can be done to stem the tide?
I share your endorsement of Nicholas Carr's book "The Shallows." I read it in 2011, I believe, and it was compelling, convicting, haunting. I remember the closing allusion to the Psalms about idolatry (really that was unforgettable): "they [idols] have mouths, but do not speak; ears, but do not hear / ... those who make them are like them; so are all who trust in them." I think I shuddered as I read and thought of my own hapless practice online (and as you may have noticed, I'm yet still online - I hope Carr made more reflective).
As for the Gen Z culture questions that you raise through considering Euphoria, one development that I have taken to heart is this one, which indicates that at least some in Gen Z have turned away from some fashions championed by my own generation (millenial). https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2022/feb/02/it-stopped-me-having-sex-for-a-year-why-generation-z-is-turning-its-back-on-sex-positive-feminism