Less alcohol, less smoking, more digital solitude. What if the new high was the algorithm?

Once upon a time, to feel alive, kids would light up a cigarette in secret, drink their first drink in company, challenge the limits with transgressions that had the flavor of rebellion. Not today. Today, for many teenagers, the “thrill” has changed shape: it no longer has the smell of tobacco or the taste of alcohol, but the cold light of a screen that never turns off.

The new ESPAD 2024 report , published a few days ago, clearly states it: European teenagers drink and smoke less, but they use social media much more. And badly. 46.5% of Italian boys use it in a problematic way. And among girls, the figure rises dramatically: 55.5% get lost in the web of TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat. Not to communicate, but to survive. To stay in the group. To feel less alone in a society that no longer knows how to look them in the eye.

A form of psychic survival

Because this is not just a new addiction. It is a new form of psychic survival. A way to numb the pain, the waiting, the conflict, the fatigue. Those emotions that no one teaches you to handle anymore. Those frustrations that are no longer narrated, but silenced, hushed up, shrugged off.

We have moved the problem from outside to inside

It's true, the numbers reassure us on some fronts: less alcohol, less tobacco, less cannabis. But they also tell us another, more disturbing story: we have moved the problem from outside to inside. From the body to the mind. From substance to identity.

Because social media abuse is not a visible deviance. It doesn't leave a glass on the table, bad breath or a cigarette in the ashtray. But it leaves shattered self-esteem, rising anxiety, mood swings, sleepless nights, the inability to stay in silence.

The problematic use of social media creeps in insidiously. It doesn't scream, but digs. It doesn't explode, but consumes.

A 'like' like a caress

Behind every boy who spends hours staring at a screen, there is not only an addiction. There is an ancient need: to be seen, recognized, validated. Every like is a missed caress. Every filter is an attempt to be accepted. Every viral video is a request for love disguised as content. And so yes, the problem is not the screen. The problem is what the screen anesthetizes.

What are we doing as adults?

Many parents notice the problem, but they are paralyzed. Because they too are tired, distracted, overwhelmed. Some try to set limits, but feel guilty. Others let it happen, because "that way they stay calm." But calm is not peace. It is just the absence of noise. And in that apparent calm, the kids scream. Voiceless. Wordless.

We have stopped educating people to be bored.

We have forgotten the value of waiting. We have exchanged freedom for abandonment, unlimited access for unconditional love. And in the meantime, the algorithm grows with them. It knows them, studies them, shapes them. It knows what they desire, what they fear, what keeps them awake until three in the morning. The algorithm is not evil. But it is ruthlessly efficient. And if no one acts as a counterpart, it ends up replacing reality.

So the question is: who is really raising our kids? Us or TikTok?

We need an adult response. A non-moralistic response, but a responsible one. A response that doesn't point fingers, but opens its arms. We need a school that teaches empathy and not just equations. That teaches how to think, not just how to produce.

The courage to say 'no'

We need a family that has the courage to say no, when it is easier to say yes. We need a community that does not judge the teenager for his mistakes, but that welcomes him in his attempts to become someone. Because a teenager who spends 4, 6, 8 hours a day on social media is not simply "addicted": he is looking for something. And our task, as psychologists, educators, parents, is to ask ourselves: what is he looking for? Attention? Affection? An identity? A place in the world?

Social media is not evil. It is the symptom.

The real enemy is not Instagram. It is the absence of alternatives. It is the relational void. It is the unshared time. It is the interrupted dialogue. It is an adult who no longer knows how to speak the language of time, of the body, of play, of silence. And so perhaps, behind this new data, there is an opportunity.

Let's start looking at the kids and their needs again

An opportunity to start looking at these kids again. Not as problems to be solved, but as human beings to be accompanied. Not as numbers in a report, but as lives in search of meaning. If we don't want smartphones to raise them, it's up to us to be more present than their feed. And this presence is not measured in hours, but in authenticity. In looks that don't judge. In words that don't trivialize. In limits that protect. In silences that listen. One day, they might look at us and ask:

“Were you there when I shook to not feel my loneliness?” And to that question, we must be ready to answer with the truth. Not with guilt. But with the responsibility of those who choose to be there, really.

Professor Giuseppe Lavenia, psychologist and psychotherapist, is president of the National Association of Technological Addictions, GAP and Cyberbullying “Di.Te” and professor of Psychology of Technological Addictions at E-Campus University Professor of Psychology of Work and Organizations at the Polytechnic University of Marche