Bagimlilik Çagi - Kötü Aliskanliklar Nasil Büyük Bir Sektöre Dönüstü?

by David T. Courtwright

We live in an age of addiction, from compulsive gaming and shopping to binge eating and opioid abuse. Sugar can be as habit-forming as cocaine, researchers tell us, and social media apps are hooking our kids. But what can we do to resist temptations that insidiously and deliberately rewire our brains? Nothing, David Courtwright says, unless we understand the history and character of the global enterprises that create and cater to our bad habits. The Age of Addiction chronicles the triumph of “limbic capitalism,” the growing network of competitive businesses targeting the brain pathways responsible for feeling, motivation, and long-term memory. We see its success in Steve Wynn’s groundbreaking casinos and Purdue Pharma’s pain pills, in McDonald’s engineered burgers and Tencent video games from China. All capitalize on the ancient quest to discover, cultivate, and refine new and habituating pleasures. Courtwright holds out hope that limbic capitalism can be contained by organized opposition from across the political spectrum. Progressives, nationalists, and traditionalists have worked together against the purveyors of addiction before. They could do it again.

Genres: Nonfiction, Psychology, Economics, History, Addiction, Audiobook, Business

408 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2021

About the author

David Courtwright is known for his books on drug use and drug policy in American and world history (Dark Paradise, Addicts Who Survived, and Forces of Habit) and for his books on the special problems of frontier environments (Violent Land and Sky as Frontier). His most recent book, No Right Turn, chronicles the tumultuous politics and surprising outcome of the culture war that engulfed America in the four decades after Nixon's 1968 election.

Courtwright lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and teaches history at the University of North Florida, where he is Presidential Professor. He was educated at the University of Kansas and at Rice University.

Photo credit: David Wilson

Reviews

[Murtaza · Rating 3 out of 5]

A beautifully written book about the addiction industries of the modern world, a complex that the author refers to with reference to its neurological impact as "limbic capitalism." Modernity allowed "pleasures" to be mass produced and packaged for the general public on a scale unseen in history. But they also transformed into a means of social control in the process. If you want to destroy or control a people get them hooked on to something: alcohol, drugs, internet pornography, sugary foods, social media, or whatever else might fit their weaknesses. The commodification of vice and its integration industrial capitalism helped turn the production of mass pleasure into one of the biggest industries on earth. These enjoyments are often unwholesome however, destroying people in the process of taking their money and giving them a short term high that often makes them feel worse off at the end. Although the author does not say it, there is something very Brave New World about this system.

When this mass pleasure industry first emerged there were strong anti-vice campaigns to control their impact, the most famous being the Prohibition campaign in the United States which enjoyed support from a broad cross-section of society ranging from women's rights groups to clergy. The anti-vice people were thoroughly defeated over the course of the 20th century, steamrolled by the financial and resulting political power of the vice industries. They are now considered to be retrograde and even villainous by history, having lost the battle and then suffering the retrospective ignominy of being written about from the victors perspective. In reality they raised many good points which are often ignored and which the author excavates here. The temperance activists would be shocked at the extent at which vice is now not just universally accepted but even encouraged in mainstream America today.

Addictive industries have enjoyed the ability to depict their products, mainly through expensive marketing, as associated with some noble or liberating broader cause. In place of campaigns against drunkenness in defense of national wellbeing, beer companies today suggest that consuming their product itself is somehow a patriotic act. Even the birth control pill at one point was attacked by some feminists as a patriarchal plot to expand women's sexual availability before being recast as a vehicle of female emancipation. The cigarette industry also succeeded for a while at portraying their product as part of a broader progressivism but eventually ran up against the glaring contradictions of that: Today they are forced to sell their deadly products to children in the developing world instead.

I enjoyed this book and was surprised at how forthright the author was in his condemnations of the harmful effects of many socially accepted practices today, including gambling and alcohol consumption. He argues in the end for moderation, which is a reasonable enough conclusion, but somehow despite being well-written and containing many good anecdotes the book didn't seem to coalesce around a main point. That capitalism fosters and profits from addiction is germane to everyone I think and my understanding of this was not greatly enhanced. It also would've been nice to hear more about digital vice, which are becoming the primary source of addictive behavior in the present day. As the author writes, vices are most destructive when they arrive on "virgin soil" and cultures have no time to acclimatize or develop regulations for them, or even become aware of them as vice. This is what the relentless motor of technology is doing to many today, while we scarcely have time to contemplate on it.

All in all an enjoyable read, although one that adds up to the less than the sum of its parts.

[Madalene · Rating 3 out of 5]

(Minor spoiler at the very end of my review) Disappointed overall - I thought based on the blurb that this would be a book about the current limbic capitalism system and how companies work to capture eyeballs and clicks in the 21st century. But it is not. 3/4 of the book is a history of addiction, including long swaths about opium, cigarettes and porn. The last 1/4 covers some newer parts of the addiction landscape, but spends so much time trying to give a balanced perspective on those who consider addiction a medical issue vs those who think it's a matter of personal freedom and/or behavior that I was left not feeling like I learned very much. The one item that I was pleased to learn is the warnings by clergy when chess first became popular that this represented addictive behavior that was warping the minds of young men. Fair point on our changing perspective.

[Aloke · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lots of gripping bits but somehow ends up less than the sum of its parts.

[Alfredo Rottenmeier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nota personal: 7

Apabullante y muy documentada visión acerca de cómo el capitalismo ha acabado siendo uña y carne con la adicción, y de qué manera se han ido retroalimentando hasta no poderse entender el uno sin el otro.

Lástima que entre tanto despliegue documental se eche en falta algo de chispa en la escritura, porque solo en ocasiones muestra trazos de un gran sentido del humor y apenas deja ver otra cosa que un escrito serio, riguroso y completo, indispensable para interesad@s pero algo arduo para el público general.

[Aseem Juneja · Rating 2 out of 5]

This should be named 'History of Addiction' instead of its current name..Too many useless details.

[Ian Goodrich · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a history of addiction and vice (well, vices). It takes us from tobacco and alcohol, to contemporary habit-forming practices such as Instagram and slot machine gambling. Its central thesis is that we live in an age of "limbic capitalism", wherein big business -- having triumphed over prohibitionists of most stripes -- promotes and pushes a dazzling array of substances and practices, utilising marketing and processes that engage our deep and addiction-prone impulses.

Whilst its core argument really resonated and provides an excellent lens on contemporary capitalism, and the historical component felt convincing and well-researched, I came away a little disappointed in the end. I guess I was expecting a little more of a deep-dive on contemporary practices (and potentially avoidance strategies), which comprised only a small portion of the book. I also felt that whilst touched on, more attention could have been paid to the negative consequences of prohibition, with greater emphasis on regulatory frameworks that've been successful in reducing harms whilst avoiding the nurturing of black markets.

Would recommend, but perhaps wasn't quite the book I was looking for.

[Connor Elliot · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have a coffee, smoke a cigarette, listen to some music, scarf down a chocolate bar and read this.

[Kavi Naidu · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of those books that everyone should read. It illuminates how we have become a society of abundance and indulgence, and how a vast system has exploited the way our brains work to create pleasures our ancestors could never have dreamed of.

[Ryosuke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read it for research at first, but inevitably ended up binging it for pleasure.

A very intriguing book that argues that modern-day neoliberal capitalism ('limbic capitalism') has advanced so far that companies have devised sophisticated techniques to get consumers completely hooked on their products, whether it be tobacco, pornography, online gaming, social media, and so on. To varying degrees, the majority of their revenue comes from a minority of people who consume these 'vices' in excess, the so-called Pareto principle. But Courtwright is by no means an anti-capitalist and doesn't support prohibition. Instead, he pushes for a middle-ground to tackle excessive consumption through real substantive policies, mainly prevention instead of more business-friendly measures like addiction treatment and education. He has no issue with people consuming these products in moderation.

In line with one of his descriptive arguments that concepts of addiction came to be applied to non-substances later in the twentieth century, the book starts by focusing on the history of alcohol and drugs and gradually moves onto more modern-day concerns. MMORPGs like Everquest and World of Warcraft has taken over the lives of gamers all over the world, with one study indicating that up to around 20% of young people in China are addicted to gaming. Your Facebook and Instagram feed provides immediate gratification over more 'effortful' hobbies like reading, learning to play an instrument, sports, and so on. As a smoker, the book has quite obvious implications for me. But as I thought more about what I do in my free time, mainly wasting it by watching endless numbers of youtube videos that mean little to nothing to me in the long term, The Age of Addiction has become more meaningful than a lot of other books out there written by academic historians.

The author should be commended for producing a narrative that is truly global, containing cases from not just Europe and North America but also Asia, Africa, and Latin America. His effort to expand the historical interest in intoxicating substances, spanning from sugar and coffee to heroin and crack cocaine, towards more behavioural addictions like web-surfing and masturbation, is something that I myself wholeheartedly agree with in terms of where the field should head towards. The biggest surprise was his fair treatment of scientific approaches to addiction, especially in his chapter on food and overeating. My only gripe with the book, and this is probably because of publishing conventions, is that it can have more robust numbers of footnotes, but I'm reading this also as an academic researcher.

Regardless, without a doubt one of the most memorable nonfiction reads. Highly recommended, even for those generally unacquainted with reading history, popular science, and economics.

[Mohammad Mohammadpour · Rating 3 out of 5]

عصر اعتیاد" یه نگاه عمیق و جذاب به تاریخ و ریشه‌های اعتیاد تو جوامع بشریه، از شکر و تنباکوی دوران استعمار تا شبکه‌های اجتماعی و بازی‌های ویدیویی امروز. مفهوم "لیمبیک کاپیتالیسم" که کورت‌رایت مطرح می‌کنه خیلی برام جالب بود—اینکه چطور شرکت‌ها با هدف‌گیری سیستم پاداش مغز، ما رو به مصرف مداوم معتاد می‌کنن. چیزی که واقعاً باهاش ارتباط برقرار کردم، ایده "محافظ خویشتن" بود؛ اینکه تو این سیستم پر از محرک اعتیادآور، باید خودمون مراقب خودمون باشیم. یه نکته دیگه که خیلی به دلم نشست این بود که افراد ضعیف‌تر جامعه، که کمتر قدرت مقاومت دارن، تو دام این کاپیتالیسم لیمبیک بیشتر گرفتار می‌شن—و این واقعاً غم‌انگیزه. کتابیه که هم آگاهی می‌ده، هم به فکر وا می‌داره!"

[Andrew Figueiredo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't think I'd be reading a book about addiction, but I found myself drawn in by Courtwright's work. In "The Age of Addiction", he tracks the history of vice and its opponents, showing how expanding technology, globalization, and changing cultural contexts enabled corporations to push society towards "limbic capitalism", defined as "a technologically advanced but socially regressive business system in which global industries . . . encourage excessive consumption and addiction . . . by targeting the limbic system" (12 in my e-book). He combines evolutionary history, brain science, and cultural history to tell a compelling story about how unrestrained pleasure and vice became embedded in modernity and won out over their objectors. Essentially, it boils down to anomie, accessibility, affordability, advertising, anonymity, and addiction neuroscience (282). Encouraged by the profit motive, companies began to take advantage of linked pleasure and addictive tendencies, undertaking massive advertising campaigns; they grew on the back of linkages between "the fantasy of unrestrained sexuality [add other vices here]" and "a liberated consumer culture of anything goes" (154), a powerful critique of libertine capitalism if there ever was one. Not just consumerism but war and the growth of tourist hubs like Las Vegas that furthered the trend, showing how many forces pushed us to where we are today. Corporations gained the ability to "design contexts that would reduce or eliminate qualms about vices", entrenching the pleasure seeking mindset (175). Globalization only expanded opportunities for the pro-vice industry, a point Courtwright drives home throughout.

To his credit, Courtwright is not excessively moralistic or cynical, but he recognizes the pernicious consequences of a society of addiction, demonstrating how intoxicants can fuel intergenerational vulnerability (114). He highlights the genetic aspects of addiction as well as the social ones, taking a holistic look that policymakers should more often consider. Courtwright is a believer that too much pleasure stimulation rewires the brain and combines with set and setting to cause dependency (208). Showing how these apply to both food and social media, he makes the case for a broader definition of addiction than was fashionable historically. The chapter on social media evoked many of the same themes dealt with in "The Social Dilemma", making it particularly timely. Because of the ubiquity of food and the web in our daily lives, they represent even more difficult vices to detach from (247). Towards the end, his manner of addressing objections in little dialogues is a bit weird and informal, but it displays the dialogue. By that point in the book, I was feeling a little down about the sorry state of our addicted world, mired in "capitalism's evil twin", joined to the free market itself at a "historically contingent point where science and technology made it possible to turn a commodity into a vice" (249). With the rise of the internet, access to all sorts of vices became easier. (254) Limbic capitalism further corroded the basis for objections by undermining religion (283) and building interconnections in the vice industry, now filled with stakeholders looking for a cut (277). I'd forgive you if by now you felt the only making the problem was irresolvable. This is not a cheery read.

However, he proposes a few solutions at the end, namely calling for leaders to tackle the 'A's' mentioned above that feed into an addictive society. He even calls for new political coalitions (289), although this aspect of the book isn't fleshed out as much as I'd like it to be. Courtwright ends by settling on "grudging toleration", which seems discordant with the many harms he noted before. The solutions were a little lacking and I noticed little about improving healthcare or going after Big Tech. A better description than prescription (no pun intended), "The Age of Addiction" is an interesting, worrying read.

[Laura · Rating 2 out of 5]

I believe the project was too ambitious and at the same time too vague. Yes, we suspect that addictive behaviors extend past alcohol and narcotic consumption and some addictive behaviors such as gambling and social media addiction. But the science was poorly explained (it at all), the strategies of 'limbic capitalism' were rushed through, and the rest of the book focused on what felt like propaganda for abolitionism. The author certainly sounds in favor of banning alcohol for example and lauds the US laws restricting drinking until the age of 21. He forgets to mention that US has severe alcohol consumption problems that far exceed those in countries in Europe where drinking is legal from earlier ages. In Germany for example teenagers can start legally consuming beer and wine at age 16. Early and public drinking is also not frowned upon in Germany. Yet in Germany people behave when they drink, public drinking rarely leads to conflicts (believe me, I lived in a university town and I've never seen drunks as polite as Germans) and most people's relationship with alcohol is healthy. I'm convinced addiction occurs still. But perhaps the bigger problem is social insecurity? Perhaps we should keep in mind that addictive behaviors can sprout from everywhere? The author applauds reading for example, but Germans considered reading addiction to be a disease apparently. I certainly feel addicted to reading books. Why is my addiction not considered problematic? What about people's responses to music? Has anyone noticed that listening to your favorite music can become addictive as well? Not to mention the hot mess that was the chapter on food addiction. The author definitely had good points there, but then went out if his depths and shamed women who may consume processed foods during pregnancy and who suffer from gestational diabetes. First of all, you can relax, having one occasional burger or cup of ice-cream will not negatively impact the baby (thanks for mommy shaming again). Second, gestational diabetes is more complex than what you eat.
Was the book right about a lot of things? Yes. Did the book acknowledge that addictions are strongly linked to social safety? Not that much. Did the book feel like propaganda and one sided? Sorry, but yes (in my opinion). The lack of nuance got to me and the facts presented were too rushed and occasionally cherry picked.

[Scott O · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

[Christian Jennings · Rating 2 out of 5]

A choppy, unclear history of addiction struggling to be a polemic?

Really wanted to like it... read it to the end. It succeeds neither as an "updated history of addiction" (ebook epub p.190), because it's not methodical and scholarly enough, nor as a critique of our addicted times. A solid, chronological history of addiction would have been much more interesting and much more successful, I think, building to a crescendo in modern times of modern addiction and where we go now. But maybe that was too boring for the writer and/or publisher? Instead we have many very fascinating factoids that are quite badly joined together, with chapters organized in some sort of thematic fashion, as though the author researched all these interesting bits and then fretted about how to link them into a narrative after the fact. It really does jump about all over the place, in logical space and time, making it hard to follow the author's train of thought, which (in two prominent places) lapses into long arguments with himself. Oh gosh, we get that opinions vary, but make your mind up and present a coherent view.

Another minor but important peeve: his concept of "limbic capitalism" suffers from piggybacking onto that outdated, mid-20th century "limbic"/triune model of the brain ("newly evolved" cortical high brain riding on top of the older reptilian limbic brain etc etc, yawn yawn) that many (e.g. LeDoux, Feldman-Barrett et al) think is now outdated and unhelpful. Eg: Lisa Feldman-Barrett: "Modern neuroscience, however, has shown that the so-called limbic system is a fiction, and experts in brain evolution no longer take it seriously, let alone consider it a system." (How Emotions are Made Ch8).

"The Age of Addiction: How Bad Habits Became Big Business" - demonstrates that, if anything, every age was an age of addiction and pretty much always was big business.

[Sergio Portesan · Rating 2 out of 5]

I came into this book excited to learn about how addiction, in particular alcohol/gambling/internet, have become so ubiquitous. While I enjoyed Courthwright’s contextualizion of vices in their historical context, I ultimately found the book to be lacking a clear point.

Having already read quite a few of the books referenced (Addiction by Design, Sugar, Salt Fat, and Irresistible), I felt that Courtwright did them justice, and eloquently and succinctly synthesized them into the broader context. It is clearly well-researched, perhaps too much so where it detracts from its coherence.

I wish the book had a bit more focus, and a delved deeper into the how. Courtwright introduces the notion of limbic capitalism, but his description is fairly surface level. It’s a concept that I intuitively agree with, and was hoping for more concrete examples and elaborations on. Instead, it felt like a long-winded overview that could’ve been condensed to a longer article.

Courtwright writes in an academic tone and uses multisyllabic words, sometimes to great effect in eloquent prose, and other times to the detriment of readability by needlessly obfuscating meaning; I sometimes found myself clinging to every masterfully chosen word, and other times found my eyes glazing over as I skimmed. The long chapters added to this, and would have been more effective broken down into more digestible chunks rather than 25-40 page behemoths.

This is on the cusp of 2 and 3 stars. I’m rounding down because it felt like a slog at the end, and didn’t quite coalesce around a coherent or meaningful point to give it a lasting impact.

[Clayton Keenon · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first half is a history of addictive behaviors. It’s interesting, but a lot of details that might bog people down. The second half is a sobering look at the cultural, economic, and technological dynamics that lead to widespread issues of excessive consumption and addiction. The idea of “limbic capitalism” gives a name to a massive feature of our society while shedding light on our individual, daily experience. This book is worth reading.

[Grace · Rating 2 out of 5]

It’s hard to avoid generalizations when trying to fit the world’s history of all forms of addiction into less than 400 pages. This books definitely struggles with oversimplifications and generalizations. A lot of historians also point out in lit reviews that there are primarily cherry-picked sources, but I don’t know enough about the scientific side of addiction to say much on that.

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very interesting.

Great read - lots to learn from

3/5

[Janai Ashley · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Age of Addiction Goodreads

I came across "The Age of Addiction: How Bad Habits Became Big Business" by David T. Courtwright in audiobook form at a time when I happened to be asking myself (yet again) why I can't seem to stay off of my cellphone - a question with which I'm not the only one grappling.

A friend of mine recently mentioned (yet again) that TikTok has her hooked. That wouldn't be an issue if she didn't find that spending so much time scrolling gets in the way of other things she'd like to be doing with her time. Except when she once again declares that she's going to spend less time on the app, she inevitably relapses, and I find myself listening to her make the same declaration months later.

My phone isn't the only thing to which I find myself compulsively drawn, though: sweets are my kryptonite.

Even my understanding of the potential health risks of overindulging in chocolate, ice cream, and Swedish Fish, like diabetes (which runs in my family), weight (re)gain, cavities, etc., haven't completely eliminated cravings.

I was drawn to this book when I saw it as a recommendation in my library app because I wanted answers as to why I, as an individual, struggle to shake my bad habits. However, as I listened to the audiobook, I was not disappointed to find myself being guided along a journey to the heart of a broader question with much more profound social implications: Why have patterns of habitual, harmful behavior become so widespread and varied in form in contemporary modern societies?

Courtwright convincingly makes the case that "limbic capitalism" is the answer to that question.

The term refers to a set of practices through which multinational corporations 1) engineer their products and services to stimulate the brain's dopamine reward system, and thus, patterns of craving, overconsumption, and addiction; 2) use advertising, lobbying, and other tactics to create environments condusive to normalizing the presence and use of their exceptionally habituating goods.

In other words, he argues that our current age of addiction is the result of companies ruthlessly and strategically "turning evolution's handiwork to their own ends"- where those ends equal billions of dollars in profits for shareholders.

To explain why and how limbic capitalism in it's current form and the resulting age of addiction came to be, Courtwright, an academic historian who specializes in drug history, takes readers on a sweeping journey across the history of humanity's pursuit of pleasure, and the concurrent evolution of pleasure's shadowy cousins, vice and addiction.

On this journey, Courtwright weaves various threads of world history in tandem with the history of pleasure, vice, and addiction like a skilled storyteller.

In the hands of someone less skilled in that regard, this book could easily have been too dry, dense, or partisan to have made the 9 hour journey (not including all the times I paused and replayed the audio to take notes) seem worth it. Thankfully, that wasn't the case!

Aside from a few historical references that went over my head as someone who is far from a history buff, I found the narrative easy to follow. I never felt lost in a thicket of facts and superfluous details.

Narrator Qarrie Marshall did an excellent job bringing the text to life by capturing Courtwright's dry humor, wit, and academic bravado.

My one frustration with the book is simultaneously one of its virtues: after laying bare the origins, evolution, and devastating impacts of limbic capitalism, he doesn't claim to have a silver bullet response to the reader's inevitable question, "Now that we know, what should we do about this?"

[Jake J · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well told contemporary and macro-historical story/account about pleasure, vice and addiction. How said points morphed, intertwined and were shaped by people/civilisations (which were, in turn, shaped by those points).

Courtwright does a good job at researching across disciplines; history, the neuroscience of addiction and pyschology to name a few. The book is well referenced and has good grounding in data when discussing topics - alcohol and drug consumption rates, or addiction rates, etc.

My main criticism, if it's valid, would be that the book offers little in terms of solutions to the problem of Big Businesses, limbic capitalism and the mentally addictive state of society. That being said, the book raises the problem/s (and definies them well).

Overall it's an interesting insight into how modern civilisation may have an unhealthy relationship with our creations/pleasures, how we are shaped by corporations (incentivised to manipulate human bioware for profit margins), how our apparatus may not be serving our well-being (Governments legalising problems, drugs for example, rather than deal with the societal issues of why people abuse them and also cash in through tax or lobbying) and how easily we, the economic or genetically vulnerable more so, can through ourselves off whack, over-indulge, creating vice like habbits that degrade our executive control - ultimately leading to addiction for some.

The book leaves one pondering to what extent the poor state of the world could be attributed to bad habits and addictive behaviours.

[Anson Cassel Mills · Rating 4 out of 5]

Few readers will make it through this book without some twinge of conscience about their bad habits—if not about their use of alcohol or their pornography viewing, then at least for putting two teaspoons of sugar in their coffee. In theory, Courtwright puts the blame for such bad behaviors squarely on what he calls “limbic capitalism,” a combination of business enterprise, complicit governments, and criminal organizations that encourage excessive consumption if not outright addiction. Still, the reader will have plenty of opportunity to blame himself, if for nothing more than falling for the blandishments of shrewd operators who would be perfectly happy to send all of society to hades in a handbasket so long as they make a profit.

Courtwright writes well, frequently using clever turns of phrase. (You can’t have a go at such a style without missing the mark occasionally. I absolve the misses.) One weakness of the book is that it is nonlinear, written neither topically or chronologically. So, the arguments, while based on wide reading in international sources, nevertheless have a tendency to turn back on themselves. Some readers may also be annoyed that Courtwright proposes no solution for the obvious problem of societal decay, except perhaps that “we should be against excess.”

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

Courtwright's book is an interesting historical survey of the reality of addiction. Going back hundreds of years, he traces how businesses have used the human quest for pleasure, and the increasing desire to escape the burdensome realities of human existence, as a means of making profit; a profit taken regardless of the toll upon increasing numbers of human lives who fall into addiction and ultimately to death and destruction. After several chapters of historical review, Limbic Capitalism is described in great detail, with examples of some of the greatest threats to 21st century existence - social media, gaming, gambling, food, pornography and opioids - which are tearing apart lives and dulling human cognition at alarming rates, especially among our children.

This book is a sobering (pun intended) read about a major social challenge which cuts across all class and social distinctions. Limbic Capitalism will ultimately implode upon itself as greater numbers of human lives are destroyed; but in the meantime, it is an economic powerhouse that, without major social intervention, will continue to grow and lead to societal decay. We should all be alarmed and ready to make major changes if we want to halt the spread of this social disease.

[Jonathan Fowler · Rating 3 out of 5]

The immigrants who poured into the industrializing cities were a natural target for vice purveyors. Starting at the bottom of the social ladder, immigrants did the most mind-numbing work; lived in crowded, filthy housing; and endured poverty, predation, and alienation. "The worker is under every possible temptation to drink," Friedrich Engels wrote of Manchester in 1844. "Spirits are virtually his sole form of pleasure and they are very readily available. On Saturday nights he watched demoralized workers swarm into the city's streets, drinking until they collapsed in the gutters. Those who stayed on their feet tottered off to one of Manchester's sixty pawnshops or into the arms of a streetwalker. Treat people like animals, Engels concluded, and they will behave like beasts. That, or revolt.
(p. 63)

[Jenael · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

Very informative and readable book, filled with interesting information about how various types of vices influenced society, as well as how changes in social organisation in terms, created differences in demands for various types of vices. This book does not approach this from a medical/self-help/psychology level (much) but from mostly a economic/sociology level. So naturally, it's not intended as a resource on the individual level if you need motivation or guidance to deal with your own problem consumption patterns. BUT I think this book provides a good big picture outlook to understand that the problem of addictive behavior is MUCH MUCH larger than 'self-control' or 'addictive gene'. Very interesting read!

[Andreas · Rating 4 out of 5]

The title is incredibly misleading. Maybe "Profiting from Addiction: A History" would be better?

This is not about the "age" of addiction, but instead a global history of the various ways addiction has been understood, regulated, and used to make money. Gambling, smoking, drinking, with final chapters on food and digital addictions. Many fascinating anecdotes, you will learn a lot from this book.

The digital addiction section felt inadequate, especially compared with the incredibly detailed section about food addiction and the mechanisms behind it. In addition, and I assume this is because the material is well documented elsewhere, opium's role in global history, especially China, wasn't well covered.

[Angie · Rating 4 out of 5]

even if you know big business is consuming members of our society...David Courtwright provides a nice overview of their techniques and a history of societal pushes and pulls against vice.

It's harder than scrolling through your phone and less satisfying than a doughnut.
You won't hit a jackpot or find an evening of "love".

but it's insightful and leaves you feeling that "YES" it is good to stand against excess that harms our neighbors while the "Phillip Morrises" and "Sacklers" and "Adelsons" and "Zuckerbergs" manipulate the system for themselves...we all need to BUGA-UP and make our democracy a progressively healthier one.

[Sorina Negrilă · Rating 3 out of 5]

A selective history of addictions, from chemical to behavioral addictions, seen through the lense of limbic capitalism - a form for businesses to use our impulsive and emotion-laden short circuited reward system to transform the occasional like into a compulsive must that generates revenue in the long-term. I found it stuffed with examples that seem to detach from context and pretty scarce in analysing the purported limbic capitalism which it names. Read it because my discussion group wanted to go into the subject of smartphone addiction, but did not find the digital addictions chapter to shed new light on the matter.

[Jared · Rating 3 out of 5]

The last three chapters made the rest of the book worth my time, thankfully. Courtwright's writing is engaging and he clearly is an expert in the matter at hand. Indeed, book's structure has each chapter build off the other in ways that few nonfiction books I have read are able to do.

Just a little bit too much historical background for my taste with limited ties to the broader "so what" and "how is this relevant today" questions until, again, the last few chapters. Definitely an instructive read that explains how "limbic capitalism" causes a host of problems and how anit-vice advocates of yesteryear and today can fight back.

[Tran Hiep · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book helps readers broaden their outlook about the "addiction-based businesses" and their historical development.
From an academic standpoint, I found it engaging and valuable; however, I expected practical guidance for individuals seeking to avoid or break free from the cycle of overconsuming hedonic experiences, which often forms the foundation of addiction. Having said that, I love the way that the author entering a debate, where they engage with opposing viewpoints on the topic, and persuading me of his perspective.
To summarize, the book ends with the statement: "in policy as in life, we should be against excess". Similarly, I would say that "being in moderation is the key"

[Corey Knadler · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book provides an excellent (if exhaustive) history of pleasure and addiction as background for the modern era of addiction. (opioid crisis, internet addiction, etc.)

It's a bit repetitive and not exactly a page turner, but I would strongly recommend it to anyone who has looked at modern addiction and asked, "How did we get here."

For my full review:

https://fishgibblets.home.blog/2019/0...