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The Fix by Damian Thompson
Addictions to iphones, painkillers, cupcakes, alcohol and sex are taking over our lives. Our most casual daily habits can quickly become obsessions that move beyond our control. Damian Thompson, who has himself struggled with a range of addictions, argues that human desire is in the process of being reshaped.
Shunning the concept of addiction as disease, he shows how manufacturers are producing substances like ipads, muffins and computer games that we learn to like too much and supplement tradition addictions to alcohol, drugs and gambling. He argues that addictive behaviour is becoming a substitute for family and work bonds that are being swept away by globalisation and urbanisation.
This battle to control addiction will soon overshadow familiar ideological debates about how to run the economy, and as whole societies set about "fixing" themselves, the architecture of human relations will come under strain as never before.
Shunning the concept of addiction as disease, he shows how manufacturers are producing substances like ipads, muffins and computer games that we learn to like too much and supplement tradition addictions to alcohol, drugs and gambling. He argues that addictive behaviour is becoming a substitute for family and work bonds that are being swept away by globalisation and urbanisation.
This battle to control addiction will soon overshadow familiar ideological debates about how to run the economy, and as whole societies set about "fixing" themselves, the architecture of human relations will come under strain as never before.
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First published January 1, 2012
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About the author
Damian Thompson
11 books6 followersEnglish journalist, editor and author.
He has written two books about apocalyptic belief and one about conspiracy theories or "counterknowledge", which he describes as "misinformation packaged to look like fact"
He has written two books about apocalyptic belief and one about conspiracy theories or "counterknowledge", which he describes as "misinformation packaged to look like fact"
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
December 20, 2017
INTRODUCTORY COMMENTS
Given the seriousness of its subject matter, it might seem insensitive to joke that I couldn’t put this book down, but in truth The Fix is a highly readable account of the hydra-headed reality of contemporary addiction. Author Damian Thompson, a journalist with a PhD in sociology, and himself a former alcoholic, describes with disarming candour the ‘addictive desires’ to which he is subject, and which he believes are far more common than most of us would like to admit. Indeed, it is precisely the prevalence of such desires that makes them a target for those whose job it is to manipulate us into consumption of one form or another, and this is really what The Fix is about.
THE SCIENCE OF ADDICTION
The book doesn’t present any groundbreaking research. The perspective is more sociological than neuroscientific, although brain chemistry is central to the story, and Thompson’s exposition of it is lucid and interesting. He points out that the scientific jury is still out on the precise causes of addiction. Although the role of neurotransmitters – such as dopamine and the opioid system – in reinforcing certain behaviours is well understood, there is less certainty about what causes some people to cross the line into debilitating addiction, while others evade this outcome. One thing that Thompson is adamant about, however, is that addiction is not a disease.
As an alcoholic, Thompson attended the AA 12-step program and is open about the benefits he received from it, but he attributes the success of the method to the ‘remarkable power of peer-group moral support’ (p. 34), despite – rather than because of – its adoption of the ‘disease model’ of addiction. For Thompson, the disease model is pernicious, because it removes ‘will’ from the picture. Not that his tone is moralising – he recognises the adverse circumstances that can lead to some forms of addiction – but he favours an account, more traditional in my view, that sees addiction in terms of habit formation. In this context, he approvingly cites psychologist Dr Stanton Peele, who ‘argues that AA preserved the temperance movement’s message of total abstinence – deeply rooted in American Protestant society – while relieving guilt by naming illness rather than sin as the cause of addiction’ (p. 44). Thompson finds the jargon of addiction specialists to be fuzzy and superficial: ‘They’ll use a term like “compulsion” without exploring the philosophical questions it raises about free will’ (p. 43); and he accuses them of a circular logic: ‘heavy drinkers who give up alcohol of their own accord … cannot have had the disease and were therefore never alcoholics in the first place ‘(pp. 35–36). The problem, of course, is that there is no diagnostic test for the ‘disease’ of addiction, unlike cancer or tuberculosis.
Countering the disease model, Thompson presents both anecdotal evidence and the results of large-scale research. In the former category is his account of Robin and James, friends from similar backgrounds who both drifted from alcohol to hard drugs. But while Robin gradually turned his life around with great effort, James committed suicide. Thompson points out that if Robin had died during his addiction phase, as nearly happened, the specialists would have felt vindicated in attributing his fate to a disease. Since he recovered through his own efforts, however, the conclusion must instead be that he never had the disease.
The disease model is not supported at an epidemiological level either, as extensive US government research conducted with Vietnam veterans demonstrates. Fearing a massive public-order problem caused by thousands of heroin-addicted GIs returning to American cities, the government commissioned a study of 400 users who described themselves as addicted. What they found, however, was that 88% of the subjects kicked the habit once they returned to civilian life. It seems very likely that it was the extreme circumstances in Vietnam, coupled with availability and peer behaviour, that was the cause of the addiction. Once the circumstances changed, for most of the soldiers the addiction was overcome. For Thompson, this identifies a key factor in addiction, which he describes as the ‘availability hypothesis’. Following Professor Michael Gossop, a leading researcher at the National Addiction Centre, King’s College, London, he describes different ‘dimensions of availability’: physical, psychological, economic, and social. The Vietnam GIs ticked all of the boxes.
Chapter 3 takes a closer look at the science of addiction. The role of dopamine is discussed, as is the opioid system, which contains the brain’s morphine-like compounds (endorphins). The former seems to have more to do with desire (wanting), and the latter with pleasure (liking). The surprising fact for me was that the former is stronger than the latter – our bodies reward wanting more than liking, although the latter plays a role in the former. Grafted onto this schema is what Thompson calls the Go and Stop impulses. The Go impulse is very primitive and we share it with animals. Dopamine is central to this urge. The Stop impulse is associated with the frontal lobes and is highly developed only in adult humans – it helps us to manage the Go impulse by reasoning about the consequences of immediate reward. I might observe that, if we leave out the technical vocabulary, none of this would have been news to the philosophers of the ancient world, who developed reasoning about desire to a high degree.
The point about the brain chemistry is that the same chemicals are involved in any form of addiction, be it ‘substance’ or ‘process’ addiction. The effects of different ‘recreational’ drugs on the brain may vary, and can be observed in addict behaviour (pp. 60–63), but ‘dopamine is still the master drug’ (p. 63). It plays a role in fastening onto ‘cues’, and here Thompson links the rarer experience of addicts to our everyday experience. The physiological effect of cues has been understood at least since Pavlov, but the point here is the continuity of the experience – ‘ordinary’ and ‘addictive’ represent different points on the same spectrum, and that is significant to the case that Thompson is making: ‘the brain’s reward circuits don’t necessarily distinguish between supposedly innocent and supposedly dangerous pursuits … addictive behaviours are accompanied by physical changes in the brain – whether or not they involve drugs’ (p. 65).
This brings us to the heart of the argument about brain chemistry and addiction, and it recalls what was said earlier about the will and habit formation. The following key passage is worth quoting in full:
'Why does science have such a hard time getting to grips with the phenomenon of addiction? In a nutshell, because human brains, as opposed to animal ones, can instruct the body to perform an almost infinite number of voluntary (and therefore unpredictable) actions. And, contrary to the beliefs of disease-model advocates and the huge therapeutic industry, addictive behaviour is essentially voluntary. Addicts may be influenced by their disordered brain chemistry to make bad choices, but they are choices nonetheless.' (p. 67)
For Thompson, addiction is a disorder describing how ‘people choose to do things that are not in their best interests … addicts are those who consistently seek damaging short-term rewards’ (p. 70). He doesn’t rule out an inherited predisposition, since, for example, alcoholism is known to run in families, but unlike a genetically inherited disease, no one has isolated a specific gene for alcoholism, and Thompson isn’t sanguine about the prospects of finding one: ‘since addiction consists of complex sequences of voluntary acts, such neurological reductionism is a waste of time’ (p. 70). Here he anticipates much of the theme for the remainder of his book. Hard drugs are not physically, psychologically, economically, or socially available to most of us, but there are many other substances, objects, and processes that are, and the producers of such things have a very strong interest in getting – and keeping – us hooked on them.
The chapter concludes with some semantic considerations that emerge from the science. First, ‘the old distinction between “psychological” and “physical” addiction is misleading’ (p. 72). We can be physically addicted to something, meaning that its consumption or repetition is reinforced by changes in the brain, but it is nonetheless reversible if the behaviour changes. Second, ‘dependence’ can mean different things. A diabetic may be dependent on insulin, meaning that he will die without it; but a heroin addict will not die without heroin. Thompson urges that ‘wanting’ and ‘liking’, though not scientific terms, ‘can be used unambiguously because they correspond to discrete urges governed by different brain mechanisms … [and] we can say with some confidence that, increasingly, our wanting urge is overwhelming our liking urge’ (p. 72). He argues that corporations have become very adept at manipulating our environment ‘to make us as greedy as possible’ (p. 73).
THE BUSINESS OF ADDICTION
Chapter 4 links what has already been said about brain chemistry and the availability hypothesis, with what we know about evolutionary biology, and applies this knowledge to our contemporary world, with some historical examples that lend support to the argument. A key paragraph is the following:
'In evolutionary terms, we essentially have the brains and bodies of hunter-gatherers. Our biochemistry has changed a bit in response to our dramatically altered surroundings, but not nearly enough for us to be able to adjust to them without damaging ourselves. Most people don’t reach the point of becoming addicts; but this mismatch between our bodies and our environment is the fundamental problem of addiction, and it is common to all humanity.' (p. 76)
The biological goal of evolution is survival, and the mechanism that drives it is pleasure. Pleasure rewards the behaviour that increases our chances of survival. The problem is that our brain chemistry keeps pushing us towards those pleasurable experiences after our biological needs have been met: ‘We have no way of switching off the hunter-gatherer instincts inherited from the mammals that preceded us, which have developed over hundreds of thousands of years’ (p. 79).
Technology plays a central role in the struggle for survival. Thompson defines technology as ‘an infinite number of tools, crafts and techniques that, thanks to scientific discoveries, have the potential to make life more bearable for us’ (p. 80). Technology ‘allows us to achieve greater rewards for less effort … [it] pushes the work-to-reward ratio in the direction of rewards – and usually short-term rewards at that’ (pp. 80–81).
Problems begin when – due to urbanization, industrialization, and capitalism – we arrive at a situation of unlimited availability. The well-known example of sugar is given: useful in the form of occasional fruit for hunter-gatherers, but positively dangerous in the quantities that we are now consuming it. This brings us to the concept of ‘addictive epidemics’ (p. 87). Heroin addiction among Vietnam GIs was an example of this, and Thompson provides others, such as the eighteenth-century ‘Gin Craze’ in London – the ‘first recorded epidemic of drunkenness in history’ (pp. 84–7); and, in the same century, the epidemic of opium smoking in China (pp. 89–92). In both cases, the epidemics involved a combination of technological developments and other social factors, leading to ‘availability’ in the senses discussed earlier.
Moving on from heroin, alcohol, and opium, Thompson points out that addictive urges needn’t involve ‘substances’ at all, and he gives the examples of casinos and strip clubs, both being cases where the thrill-seeker ‘is endlessly teased with cues that signify sudden wealth or a glorious sexual encounter’ (p. 93). It’s not important that the customer knows deep-down that these expectations are unrealistic, since his brain chemistry leads him to ignore the long-term consequences in favour of a ‘short-term buzz of excitement’ (p. 93).
For Thompson, there is no tidy explanation of what tips people over into self-destructive behaviours, but he asks us to step back and remind ourselves of the big picture:
'The only things limiting our ability to stimulate ourselves to the point of frenzy are our fragile biology and our common sense. Western society has moved beyond the point where addictive epidemics can easily be distinguished from everyday behaviour; the dynamics of addiction and the dynamics of the free market simply have too much in common.' (p. 94)
Dramatically illustrating this point is the example of the German pharmaceutical company, Bayer, which commercialized the drug diamorphine in 1898, marketing it as a syrup for ‘coughs, colds and “irritation”’ (p. 95). It was trademarked as Heroin, ‘to indicate its “heroic” properties’ (p. 95). (Diamorphine had first been synthesized by an English chemist in 1874, but Bayer led commercialization after Felix Hoffmann independently re-synthesized it.) Although they had been searching for a less addictive form of morphine, they ended up producing a substance that was more addictive, and then making it readily available with dreadful consequences. We now know that once demand has been created, limiting supply becomes ineffective, because addicts will switch to other substances, and even to non-substance forms of addiction:
'Addictive behaviours aren’t necessarily locked on to specific things: in a world where there are practically limitless pleasurable experiences on offer, obsessive behaviour becomes promiscuous: it can grab hold of any object or activity that promises us a hit.' (p. 98)
Most of the rest of the book applies this argument to various modern forms of addiction. Chapter 5 is devoted to sugar, which Thompson points out shares some of the psychoactive properties of ‘recreational’ drugs. Chapter 6 considers the social phenomenon of binge drinking. Chapter 7 takes a look at the converging problem of prescription medication. The title of Chapter 8 (‘Gaming, the new gambling’) is a succinct summary of its content. Chapter 9 tells a similar story, but this time it is digital pornography that is of concern. The title of the final chapter (‘Deliver us from temptation’) has religious overtones, perhaps reflecting Thompson’s academic and professional background – his PhD was in the sociology of religion, and he has been religious affairs correspondent of The Daily Telegraph and editor-in-chief of the Catholic Herald.
CONCLUDING COMMENTS
The Fix is written for a general audience, although the influence of Thompson’s background in sociology is detectable. With minimal use of scientific jargon, he makes a plausible case for the continuity between extreme forms of addiction, which we might all recognise, and the more mundane experience of giving in to temptation, whether the object of our desire be food, prescribed medication, or digital distractions. Furthermore, he suggests that our contemporary way of life is pushing us into addictive-type behaviours.
A recurring theme in the book is that addiction involves the progressive replacement of people by things. This is particularly evident where addiction intersects with obsessive collecting (a form of OCD), but it is not limited to such cases. Even the people in an addict's life often become a means to the object of his addiction. And addicts often end up alone in their bedroom or sitting room, whether they are addicted to alcohol or gaming.
Describing himself as a former addict, he refuses to accept the ‘medical model’ that claims addiction is an incurable disease. Although he acknowledges the role of ‘situation and context’, and agrees with Malcolm Gladwell (The Tipping Point, 2000) that we tend to ‘overestimate the importance of character traits’ (p. 88), his description of addiction as a ‘disorder of choice’ is entirely compatible with traditional accounts of habit formation.
We know from their writings that ancient philosophers like Plato and Aristotle well understood the human psyche to be a battleground between competing influences. Notwithstanding the power of irrational forces, they regarded rationality as the defining characteristic of human beings, and they claimed that the ordered psyche was one in which the irrational was submitted to the rational. Ancient philosophical schools, such as the Epicureans and the Stoics, developed a sophisticated understanding of desire and emotion, including a hierarchy of different kinds of pleasure, and they elaborated exercises to help students strengthen the will against temptation. Their goal was eudaimonia, often translated as ‘flourishing’, in the sense of a fulfilling human life. They were concerned with ‘normal’ desire, rather than the extreme of addiction, though doubtless they would have seen the two lying along a spectrum, with the latter being the developmental endpoint of a dissolute life, one in which there was no attempt to subjugate the lower desires.
Thompson, perhaps judiciously, doesn’t bring such historical considerations into his account, which is generally factual and descriptive rather than moralizing. I believe it is significant, however, that he leaves open the door to what the ancients have to teach us. Although no stranger to addictive desires himself, he refuses to shirk responsibility for his own poor choices in the past. Rather, he returns, like the escaped prisoner in Plato’s cave allegory, to help liberate his erstwhile fellow captives, and warn against complacency in a world increasingly governed by desire.
(The full version of this review can be found on my blog: https://simonkiddreflections.wordpres...)
Given the seriousness of its subject matter, it might seem insensitive to joke that I couldn’t put this book down, but in truth The Fix is a highly readable account of the hydra-headed reality of contemporary addiction. Author Damian Thompson, a journalist with a PhD in sociology, and himself a former alcoholic, describes with disarming candour the ‘addictive desires’ to which he is subject, and which he believes are far more common than most of us would like to admit. Indeed, it is precisely the prevalence of such desires that makes them a target for those whose job it is to manipulate us into consumption of one form or another, and this is really what The Fix is about.
THE SCIENCE OF ADDICTION
The book doesn’t present any groundbreaking research. The perspective is more sociological than neuroscientific, although brain chemistry is central to the story, and Thompson’s exposition of it is lucid and interesting. He points out that the scientific jury is still out on the precise causes of addiction. Although the role of neurotransmitters – such as dopamine and the opioid system – in reinforcing certain behaviours is well understood, there is less certainty about what causes some people to cross the line into debilitating addiction, while others evade this outcome. One thing that Thompson is adamant about, however, is that addiction is not a disease.
As an alcoholic, Thompson attended the AA 12-step program and is open about the benefits he received from it, but he attributes the success of the method to the ‘remarkable power of peer-group moral support’ (p. 34), despite – rather than because of – its adoption of the ‘disease model’ of addiction. For Thompson, the disease model is pernicious, because it removes ‘will’ from the picture. Not that his tone is moralising – he recognises the adverse circumstances that can lead to some forms of addiction – but he favours an account, more traditional in my view, that sees addiction in terms of habit formation. In this context, he approvingly cites psychologist Dr Stanton Peele, who ‘argues that AA preserved the temperance movement’s message of total abstinence – deeply rooted in American Protestant society – while relieving guilt by naming illness rather than sin as the cause of addiction’ (p. 44). Thompson finds the jargon of addiction specialists to be fuzzy and superficial: ‘They’ll use a term like “compulsion” without exploring the philosophical questions it raises about free will’ (p. 43); and he accuses them of a circular logic: ‘heavy drinkers who give up alcohol of their own accord … cannot have had the disease and were therefore never alcoholics in the first place ‘(pp. 35–36). The problem, of course, is that there is no diagnostic test for the ‘disease’ of addiction, unlike cancer or tuberculosis.
Countering the disease model, Thompson presents both anecdotal evidence and the results of large-scale research. In the former category is his account of Robin and James, friends from similar backgrounds who both drifted from alcohol to hard drugs. But while Robin gradually turned his life around with great effort, James committed suicide. Thompson points out that if Robin had died during his addiction phase, as nearly happened, the specialists would have felt vindicated in attributing his fate to a disease. Since he recovered through his own efforts, however, the conclusion must instead be that he never had the disease.
The disease model is not supported at an epidemiological level either, as extensive US government research conducted with Vietnam veterans demonstrates. Fearing a massive public-order problem caused by thousands of heroin-addicted GIs returning to American cities, the government commissioned a study of 400 users who described themselves as addicted. What they found, however, was that 88% of the subjects kicked the habit once they returned to civilian life. It seems very likely that it was the extreme circumstances in Vietnam, coupled with availability and peer behaviour, that was the cause of the addiction. Once the circumstances changed, for most of the soldiers the addiction was overcome. For Thompson, this identifies a key factor in addiction, which he describes as the ‘availability hypothesis’. Following Professor Michael Gossop, a leading researcher at the National Addiction Centre, King’s College, London, he describes different ‘dimensions of availability’: physical, psychological, economic, and social. The Vietnam GIs ticked all of the boxes.
Chapter 3 takes a closer look at the science of addiction. The role of dopamine is discussed, as is the opioid system, which contains the brain’s morphine-like compounds (endorphins). The former seems to have more to do with desire (wanting), and the latter with pleasure (liking). The surprising fact for me was that the former is stronger than the latter – our bodies reward wanting more than liking, although the latter plays a role in the former. Grafted onto this schema is what Thompson calls the Go and Stop impulses. The Go impulse is very primitive and we share it with animals. Dopamine is central to this urge. The Stop impulse is associated with the frontal lobes and is highly developed only in adult humans – it helps us to manage the Go impulse by reasoning about the consequences of immediate reward. I might observe that, if we leave out the technical vocabulary, none of this would have been news to the philosophers of the ancient world, who developed reasoning about desire to a high degree.
The point about the brain chemistry is that the same chemicals are involved in any form of addiction, be it ‘substance’ or ‘process’ addiction. The effects of different ‘recreational’ drugs on the brain may vary, and can be observed in addict behaviour (pp. 60–63), but ‘dopamine is still the master drug’ (p. 63). It plays a role in fastening onto ‘cues’, and here Thompson links the rarer experience of addicts to our everyday experience. The physiological effect of cues has been understood at least since Pavlov, but the point here is the continuity of the experience – ‘ordinary’ and ‘addictive’ represent different points on the same spectrum, and that is significant to the case that Thompson is making: ‘the brain’s reward circuits don’t necessarily distinguish between supposedly innocent and supposedly dangerous pursuits … addictive behaviours are accompanied by physical changes in the brain – whether or not they involve drugs’ (p. 65).
This brings us to the heart of the argument about brain chemistry and addiction, and it recalls what was said earlier about the will and habit formation. The following key passage is worth quoting in full:
'Why does science have such a hard time getting to grips with the phenomenon of addiction? In a nutshell, because human brains, as opposed to animal ones, can instruct the body to perform an almost infinite number of voluntary (and therefore unpredictable) actions. And, contrary to the beliefs of disease-model advocates and the huge therapeutic industry, addictive behaviour is essentially voluntary. Addicts may be influenced by their disordered brain chemistry to make bad choices, but they are choices nonetheless.' (p. 67)
For Thompson, addiction is a disorder describing how ‘people choose to do things that are not in their best interests … addicts are those who consistently seek damaging short-term rewards’ (p. 70). He doesn’t rule out an inherited predisposition, since, for example, alcoholism is known to run in families, but unlike a genetically inherited disease, no one has isolated a specific gene for alcoholism, and Thompson isn’t sanguine about the prospects of finding one: ‘since addiction consists of complex sequences of voluntary acts, such neurological reductionism is a waste of time’ (p. 70). Here he anticipates much of the theme for the remainder of his book. Hard drugs are not physically, psychologically, economically, or socially available to most of us, but there are many other substances, objects, and processes that are, and the producers of such things have a very strong interest in getting – and keeping – us hooked on them.
The chapter concludes with some semantic considerations that emerge from the science. First, ‘the old distinction between “psychological” and “physical” addiction is misleading’ (p. 72). We can be physically addicted to something, meaning that its consumption or repetition is reinforced by changes in the brain, but it is nonetheless reversible if the behaviour changes. Second, ‘dependence’ can mean different things. A diabetic may be dependent on insulin, meaning that he will die without it; but a heroin addict will not die without heroin. Thompson urges that ‘wanting’ and ‘liking’, though not scientific terms, ‘can be used unambiguously because they correspond to discrete urges governed by different brain mechanisms … [and] we can say with some confidence that, increasingly, our wanting urge is overwhelming our liking urge’ (p. 72). He argues that corporations have become very adept at manipulating our environment ‘to make us as greedy as possible’ (p. 73).
THE BUSINESS OF ADDICTION
Chapter 4 links what has already been said about brain chemistry and the availability hypothesis, with what we know about evolutionary biology, and applies this knowledge to our contemporary world, with some historical examples that lend support to the argument. A key paragraph is the following:
'In evolutionary terms, we essentially have the brains and bodies of hunter-gatherers. Our biochemistry has changed a bit in response to our dramatically altered surroundings, but not nearly enough for us to be able to adjust to them without damaging ourselves. Most people don’t reach the point of becoming addicts; but this mismatch between our bodies and our environment is the fundamental problem of addiction, and it is common to all humanity.' (p. 76)
The biological goal of evolution is survival, and the mechanism that drives it is pleasure. Pleasure rewards the behaviour that increases our chances of survival. The problem is that our brain chemistry keeps pushing us towards those pleasurable experiences after our biological needs have been met: ‘We have no way of switching off the hunter-gatherer instincts inherited from the mammals that preceded us, which have developed over hundreds of thousands of years’ (p. 79).
Technology plays a central role in the struggle for survival. Thompson defines technology as ‘an infinite number of tools, crafts and techniques that, thanks to scientific discoveries, have the potential to make life more bearable for us’ (p. 80). Technology ‘allows us to achieve greater rewards for less effort … [it] pushes the work-to-reward ratio in the direction of rewards – and usually short-term rewards at that’ (pp. 80–81).
Problems begin when – due to urbanization, industrialization, and capitalism – we arrive at a situation of unlimited availability. The well-known example of sugar is given: useful in the form of occasional fruit for hunter-gatherers, but positively dangerous in the quantities that we are now consuming it. This brings us to the concept of ‘addictive epidemics’ (p. 87). Heroin addiction among Vietnam GIs was an example of this, and Thompson provides others, such as the eighteenth-century ‘Gin Craze’ in London – the ‘first recorded epidemic of drunkenness in history’ (pp. 84–7); and, in the same century, the epidemic of opium smoking in China (pp. 89–92). In both cases, the epidemics involved a combination of technological developments and other social factors, leading to ‘availability’ in the senses discussed earlier.
Moving on from heroin, alcohol, and opium, Thompson points out that addictive urges needn’t involve ‘substances’ at all, and he gives the examples of casinos and strip clubs, both being cases where the thrill-seeker ‘is endlessly teased with cues that signify sudden wealth or a glorious sexual encounter’ (p. 93). It’s not important that the customer knows deep-down that these expectations are unrealistic, since his brain chemistry leads him to ignore the long-term consequences in favour of a ‘short-term buzz of excitement’ (p. 93).
For Thompson, there is no tidy explanation of what tips people over into self-destructive behaviours, but he asks us to step back and remind ourselves of the big picture:
'The only things limiting our ability to stimulate ourselves to the point of frenzy are our fragile biology and our common sense. Western society has moved beyond the point where addictive epidemics can easily be distinguished from everyday behaviour; the dynamics of addiction and the dynamics of the free market simply have too much in common.' (p. 94)
Dramatically illustrating this point is the example of the German pharmaceutical company, Bayer, which commercialized the drug diamorphine in 1898, marketing it as a syrup for ‘coughs, colds and “irritation”’ (p. 95). It was trademarked as Heroin, ‘to indicate its “heroic” properties’ (p. 95). (Diamorphine had first been synthesized by an English chemist in 1874, but Bayer led commercialization after Felix Hoffmann independently re-synthesized it.) Although they had been searching for a less addictive form of morphine, they ended up producing a substance that was more addictive, and then making it readily available with dreadful consequences. We now know that once demand has been created, limiting supply becomes ineffective, because addicts will switch to other substances, and even to non-substance forms of addiction:
'Addictive behaviours aren’t necessarily locked on to specific things: in a world where there are practically limitless pleasurable experiences on offer, obsessive behaviour becomes promiscuous: it can grab hold of any object or activity that promises us a hit.' (p. 98)
Most of the rest of the book applies this argument to various modern forms of addiction. Chapter 5 is devoted to sugar, which Thompson points out shares some of the psychoactive properties of ‘recreational’ drugs. Chapter 6 considers the social phenomenon of binge drinking. Chapter 7 takes a look at the converging problem of prescription medication. The title of Chapter 8 (‘Gaming, the new gambling’) is a succinct summary of its content. Chapter 9 tells a similar story, but this time it is digital pornography that is of concern. The title of the final chapter (‘Deliver us from temptation’) has religious overtones, perhaps reflecting Thompson’s academic and professional background – his PhD was in the sociology of religion, and he has been religious affairs correspondent of The Daily Telegraph and editor-in-chief of the Catholic Herald.
CONCLUDING COMMENTS
The Fix is written for a general audience, although the influence of Thompson’s background in sociology is detectable. With minimal use of scientific jargon, he makes a plausible case for the continuity between extreme forms of addiction, which we might all recognise, and the more mundane experience of giving in to temptation, whether the object of our desire be food, prescribed medication, or digital distractions. Furthermore, he suggests that our contemporary way of life is pushing us into addictive-type behaviours.
A recurring theme in the book is that addiction involves the progressive replacement of people by things. This is particularly evident where addiction intersects with obsessive collecting (a form of OCD), but it is not limited to such cases. Even the people in an addict's life often become a means to the object of his addiction. And addicts often end up alone in their bedroom or sitting room, whether they are addicted to alcohol or gaming.
Describing himself as a former addict, he refuses to accept the ‘medical model’ that claims addiction is an incurable disease. Although he acknowledges the role of ‘situation and context’, and agrees with Malcolm Gladwell (The Tipping Point, 2000) that we tend to ‘overestimate the importance of character traits’ (p. 88), his description of addiction as a ‘disorder of choice’ is entirely compatible with traditional accounts of habit formation.
We know from their writings that ancient philosophers like Plato and Aristotle well understood the human psyche to be a battleground between competing influences. Notwithstanding the power of irrational forces, they regarded rationality as the defining characteristic of human beings, and they claimed that the ordered psyche was one in which the irrational was submitted to the rational. Ancient philosophical schools, such as the Epicureans and the Stoics, developed a sophisticated understanding of desire and emotion, including a hierarchy of different kinds of pleasure, and they elaborated exercises to help students strengthen the will against temptation. Their goal was eudaimonia, often translated as ‘flourishing’, in the sense of a fulfilling human life. They were concerned with ‘normal’ desire, rather than the extreme of addiction, though doubtless they would have seen the two lying along a spectrum, with the latter being the developmental endpoint of a dissolute life, one in which there was no attempt to subjugate the lower desires.
Thompson, perhaps judiciously, doesn’t bring such historical considerations into his account, which is generally factual and descriptive rather than moralizing. I believe it is significant, however, that he leaves open the door to what the ancients have to teach us. Although no stranger to addictive desires himself, he refuses to shirk responsibility for his own poor choices in the past. Rather, he returns, like the escaped prisoner in Plato’s cave allegory, to help liberate his erstwhile fellow captives, and warn against complacency in a world increasingly governed by desire.
(The full version of this review can be found on my blog: https://simonkiddreflections.wordpres...)
March 7, 2015
The main argument is that addiction is getting worse because we are getting better at developing things we desire (regardless of whether we want to desire them or not). If you read this book, it should be for the discussion around addiction to things that aren't street drugs: iPhones, cupcakes, gaming, porn, shopping, and prescriptions for drugs that don't treat a disease. If you want to learn about the science behind addiction, effectiveness of different treatments, or street drugs, there are many better resources out there; in this book you won't get much more than the author's personal opinions based on his experiences with addiction. In the end, this is a book that diagnoses a problem, predicts its spread, and wonders if we'll ever be able to fix the problem.
July 13, 2020
I came across this book in a rather circuitous manner. I had accidentally downloaded a religious podcast from The Spectator magazine’s website and had this as my accompaniment to my morning walk. It was a surprisingly interesting look at the actions of the church in the midst of the coronavirus lockdown and painted a very pessimistic view of its future. I looked up the podcaster and found it was Damian Thompson and, having found his podcast interesting, decided to risk purchasing one of his books. This is how I ended up reading about the growing problems of addictions in our society.
This is a easily readable book which details the alarming rise in addictive behaviours of which we are all aware. There are many statistics here, many of which are quite frightening. It is not limited to the growth in recreational drug abuse but also details the rise in prescription drug abuse, the effect of sugar addition, alcoholism, computer gaming and addiction to pornography. The adverse effects of these problems are also described and enumerated. The numbers are made to come to life with anecdotes and real-life stories. This includes his own experience when he had major problems with alcohol and drug abuse and dependency.
As I read the book the scale of the problem we have became clear to me and also the amount of change that our society and culture has witnessed in a short space of time. Perhaps most arresting are the changes that have occurred in our eating and sexual habits. For many generations these have quite removed from their basic biological and natural functions and now function predominately in a cultural sense and are much more malleable. Unfortunately, there are those who will use this malleability against our better interests and who will promote consumption and behaviour which is damaging to us, both as individuals and as a society. There is interesting speculation that as individuals and as a society we are getting more satisfaction from objects and things than from people and relationships, and that our psychological attitude to things fuels this problem.
Thus far, this book is much like any other on the subject but he there is something rather different. He challenges the currently dominant disease model of addiction. Although there are many interesting biological differences which have been seen in those with addiction problems there is no evidence which supports the idea of a simple biological basis to addiction itself. We all have the same neural systems which could lead us to the same problems if the circumstances are right. We all have the same “desire” and “like” circuits in our brains. Recognising this helps explain the primary importance of the factor of “availability” in the genesis of addiction. Availability is not simply a matter of supply and price, though these are important, social and cultural attitudes (approval, tacit or explicit) also play their role in whether something is available.
However, perhaps most importantly, the disease model has the risk or removing something that all addicts, and all addiction specialists, know to be the most important factor in breaking addictive behaviours; namely free will. There is a danger that the disease model portrays the addict as a hopeless victim at the mercy of their neurochemistry. No one will argue that there not serious problems with some compounds and the physical effects of their withdrawal which drive some people to continue their use in the face of great and increasing harm. However, an important factor in whether one starts to use something, continues to use, and most importantly manages to stop using is act of will. We need to bolster this rather than undermine it – we need to counter feelings of helplessness not engender them.
Although the book is rather old now (2012), much of what he has written has proven to be prescient rather than alarmist. It is now an even more important issue than before. At a societal level the war on drugs is destroying our communities, at the individual level our levels of obesity and diabetes are responsible for the untimely deaths of many, and in the area of relationships there is developing evidence of the damage being done by pornography on our sex lives. The effects of our addictions may, soon, “become a higher priority for the developing world than its ancient enemies, poverty and disease.”
This is a easily readable book which details the alarming rise in addictive behaviours of which we are all aware. There are many statistics here, many of which are quite frightening. It is not limited to the growth in recreational drug abuse but also details the rise in prescription drug abuse, the effect of sugar addition, alcoholism, computer gaming and addiction to pornography. The adverse effects of these problems are also described and enumerated. The numbers are made to come to life with anecdotes and real-life stories. This includes his own experience when he had major problems with alcohol and drug abuse and dependency.
As I read the book the scale of the problem we have became clear to me and also the amount of change that our society and culture has witnessed in a short space of time. Perhaps most arresting are the changes that have occurred in our eating and sexual habits. For many generations these have quite removed from their basic biological and natural functions and now function predominately in a cultural sense and are much more malleable. Unfortunately, there are those who will use this malleability against our better interests and who will promote consumption and behaviour which is damaging to us, both as individuals and as a society. There is interesting speculation that as individuals and as a society we are getting more satisfaction from objects and things than from people and relationships, and that our psychological attitude to things fuels this problem.
Thus far, this book is much like any other on the subject but he there is something rather different. He challenges the currently dominant disease model of addiction. Although there are many interesting biological differences which have been seen in those with addiction problems there is no evidence which supports the idea of a simple biological basis to addiction itself. We all have the same neural systems which could lead us to the same problems if the circumstances are right. We all have the same “desire” and “like” circuits in our brains. Recognising this helps explain the primary importance of the factor of “availability” in the genesis of addiction. Availability is not simply a matter of supply and price, though these are important, social and cultural attitudes (approval, tacit or explicit) also play their role in whether something is available.
However, perhaps most importantly, the disease model has the risk or removing something that all addicts, and all addiction specialists, know to be the most important factor in breaking addictive behaviours; namely free will. There is a danger that the disease model portrays the addict as a hopeless victim at the mercy of their neurochemistry. No one will argue that there not serious problems with some compounds and the physical effects of their withdrawal which drive some people to continue their use in the face of great and increasing harm. However, an important factor in whether one starts to use something, continues to use, and most importantly manages to stop using is act of will. We need to bolster this rather than undermine it – we need to counter feelings of helplessness not engender them.
Although the book is rather old now (2012), much of what he has written has proven to be prescient rather than alarmist. It is now an even more important issue than before. At a societal level the war on drugs is destroying our communities, at the individual level our levels of obesity and diabetes are responsible for the untimely deaths of many, and in the area of relationships there is developing evidence of the damage being done by pornography on our sex lives. The effects of our addictions may, soon, “become a higher priority for the developing world than its ancient enemies, poverty and disease.”
March 18, 2018
Thompson concludes the book with the observation: “In the final analysis, addiction is a disorder of choice, and we’re not doomed to carry on making bad choices to the point of helplessness. The challenge is identifying those bad choices.”
The author argues that addiction not a disease as is being made out by the medical community – a view generally accepted by the community at large. Addiction, Thompson says, is more a cultural phenomenon. And in our time the phenomenon is driven by easy availability of the addictive materials.
Major addictions that the book deals with are food, internet porn, binge drinking, gaming, prescription drugs and technology.
Thompson writes with the American social scene in mind. But the culture of addiction has spread the world over following in the wake of globalization.
Here in India we are seeing an upsurge of addictions. Alcohol used to be a taboo in the conservative country. But with the economic liberalization that taboo has been consigned to the dustbin of history. Social drinking is now an accepted part of the middle- and lower middle class Indian lives. And with acceptance comes the shedding of inhibitions.
The picture is even grimmer when it comes to internet porn. With the spread of technology and easy availability of computers and smartphones, viewing of pornography has assumed epidemic proportions. This has resulted, among other consequences, in a significant rise in crimes against women – both inside the home and out of it.
Damian Thompson talks about making choices in so far as addictive behavior is concerned.
In an age when technology is redefining very concept of our humanness, is it possible for us to choose differently?
Doubtful.
The Fix is an important contribution to the debate.
The author argues that addiction not a disease as is being made out by the medical community – a view generally accepted by the community at large. Addiction, Thompson says, is more a cultural phenomenon. And in our time the phenomenon is driven by easy availability of the addictive materials.
Major addictions that the book deals with are food, internet porn, binge drinking, gaming, prescription drugs and technology.
Thompson writes with the American social scene in mind. But the culture of addiction has spread the world over following in the wake of globalization.
Here in India we are seeing an upsurge of addictions. Alcohol used to be a taboo in the conservative country. But with the economic liberalization that taboo has been consigned to the dustbin of history. Social drinking is now an accepted part of the middle- and lower middle class Indian lives. And with acceptance comes the shedding of inhibitions.
The picture is even grimmer when it comes to internet porn. With the spread of technology and easy availability of computers and smartphones, viewing of pornography has assumed epidemic proportions. This has resulted, among other consequences, in a significant rise in crimes against women – both inside the home and out of it.
Damian Thompson talks about making choices in so far as addictive behavior is concerned.
In an age when technology is redefining very concept of our humanness, is it possible for us to choose differently?
Doubtful.
The Fix is an important contribution to the debate.
June 21, 2024
Author Damian Thompson is a recovering alcoholic and also someone who doesn't buy the addiction as illness route. Though I have no expertise or reason to totally disregard that addiction might be the result of illness, I found that Thompson does make some really good points.
One is that with most diseases, you don't have the option of quitting (of course, having said that, if addiction is a symptom, then it may well be that the root cause is something that can't be quit/cured).
Second, he marks out a pretty fundamental characteristic of addiction, which is that addicts go after things they 'want' not 'need'. He says that in an addict, the wanting phase is more important than the actual liking and it seems to me that any of us with even slightly bad addicty habits can benefit from dissecting our own relationship to things we want/need/like.
It's a very interesting read, covering addiction to drugs, technology, food, pornography, gambling and gaming. The overall assertion seems to be that addiction is not a disease, but rather a habit that is enabled and cultivated and then nurtured. I personally think there's a little more to the disease case, but this book provides some valuable debate and insight.
One is that with most diseases, you don't have the option of quitting (of course, having said that, if addiction is a symptom, then it may well be that the root cause is something that can't be quit/cured).
Second, he marks out a pretty fundamental characteristic of addiction, which is that addicts go after things they 'want' not 'need'. He says that in an addict, the wanting phase is more important than the actual liking and it seems to me that any of us with even slightly bad addicty habits can benefit from dissecting our own relationship to things we want/need/like.
It's a very interesting read, covering addiction to drugs, technology, food, pornography, gambling and gaming. The overall assertion seems to be that addiction is not a disease, but rather a habit that is enabled and cultivated and then nurtured. I personally think there's a little more to the disease case, but this book provides some valuable debate and insight.
May 1, 2021
Read critically. This is a fascinating subject and the author tackles some legitimate questions, but there are also moments where the sources he cites to underscore his points (Milo Yiannopoulos was my first red flag) cause me to question the following points, especially when some really complex issues are wrapped up and dismissed pretty tritely. When I used to teach persuasive writing, this would be something I'd assign my students because, despite the misgivings I listed above, the author does a very good job keeping on track and arguing the points he wants to make. It does have a slightly dated feel, since some of the things he focuses on are already far in the past but his overall theories can hang through if you apply them to technologies or patterns of the present. I do wish there were a more succinct takeaway from the book than the "be wary!" mantra, but this work functions better if you entertain the questions it wants you to examine with an open mind rather than jumping right to the conclusions it offers you.
March 6, 2019
Each chapter tackles a different kind of addiction with bookend chapters on the reasons why economics and supply will keep the cycles going.
Written by someone with experience in the cycles of using addictive substances who decided he wanted to use his journalism talents to help identify problems that the industries backing addiction don't want brought into the light.
Giving equal weight to sugar, gambling, gaming, and porn, as he did to alcohol, meth, heroin, and speed, and writing a clear statement as to why he chose to do so.
Rather negative depiction of 12 step programs and for profit rehab programs while adopting a sort of fatalistic feeling about the universality of addiction and avoiding giving much solid advice on how to turn the tide. A bit discouraging. Very informative.
Pretty much all the adult themes. A few swear words.
Written by someone with experience in the cycles of using addictive substances who decided he wanted to use his journalism talents to help identify problems that the industries backing addiction don't want brought into the light.
Giving equal weight to sugar, gambling, gaming, and porn, as he did to alcohol, meth, heroin, and speed, and writing a clear statement as to why he chose to do so.
Rather negative depiction of 12 step programs and for profit rehab programs while adopting a sort of fatalistic feeling about the universality of addiction and avoiding giving much solid advice on how to turn the tide. A bit discouraging. Very informative.
Pretty much all the adult themes. A few swear words.
September 12, 2017
The increasingly accepted notion of addiction as a disease is both compelling and controversial. However this author's muddied thesis seems neither to subscribe to this theory nor dismiss it out of hand; he instead seems to be admonishing society to regulate its appetites for its own sake, or simply to be chronicling the many and myriad substances and activities that people today commonly enjoy on habitual bases.
He lists the many alleged ills that result from the constant repetition of dopamine-releasing acts, yet the science he invokes is anecdotal, fledgling at best or phony at worst.
On a final note, I'm not sure whether his regular referencing to his return from the bottle is either meant to strengthen or weaken his case; whether it is an attempt to humanise or elevate himself.
He lists the many alleged ills that result from the constant repetition of dopamine-releasing acts, yet the science he invokes is anecdotal, fledgling at best or phony at worst.
On a final note, I'm not sure whether his regular referencing to his return from the bottle is either meant to strengthen or weaken his case; whether it is an attempt to humanise or elevate himself.
April 13, 2021
Some interesting things in the book but as soon as I started it I knew it would be hard to finish reading it. It was quite repetitive.
I forced myself to read at least a few pages every day to reach the end of the book.
I started another book at the same time to alternate and have some more pleasant reading.
However, the last chapters were more interesting.
I would not read it again though.
I felt the same as when reading The Power of Now (Eckhart Tolle). I was stuck with that one for 2 months, really did not enjoy it and was expecting more from the reviews I read. That is why with The Fix I read another book at the same time.
Maybe it is just not my kind of literature.
I forced myself to read at least a few pages every day to reach the end of the book.
I started another book at the same time to alternate and have some more pleasant reading.
However, the last chapters were more interesting.
I would not read it again though.
I felt the same as when reading The Power of Now (Eckhart Tolle). I was stuck with that one for 2 months, really did not enjoy it and was expecting more from the reviews I read. That is why with The Fix I read another book at the same time.
Maybe it is just not my kind of literature.
February 5, 2023
I've read it twice and will no doubt read it again at some point. Gripped. We all see to be addicted to something!
Read
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April 8, 2013
The cover of this book contains no author credentials, no "by the author of", and no author's blurbs. If it weren't for the lovely design on the front, it would have all the ear-marks of being questionable. However, according to Wikipedia, Damian Thompson is a journalist with a Ph.D. in the sociology of religion. Does this make him as qualified to talk about addiction as, say, a neurologist or an evolutionary psychologist or an addictions expert? Probably not. However, Thompson has some personal experience with addiction, and most of the book is written from a sociological perspective.
Thompson is convinced the "disease model" of addiction is incorrect, but his arguments against it are weak, in my opinion. It depends on how you define "disease", which he doesn't explicitly do. However, it seems as though Thompson believes to qualify for the term "disease", an illness must be a) scientifically identifiable b) have only involuntary symptoms; and c) be incurable. This seems too narrow to me, but these are the points on which his arguments rest.
Addiction cannot be specifically found or tested for in the organic body. Thompson argues that this means it's not a disease. But in the history of science, many diseases failed this test until the technology arose to detect them, or the pathology was discovered. I would be curious to know if Thompson doesn't believe that things like Fibromyalgia and ME/CFS are real diseases either, since they lack this qualification. But it's painfully obvious to me--literally-- that my chronic illness is a real disease, even though the doctors can't locate the source of it in my body.
Thompson also believes that because addictive behaviour is "voluntary", it can't be a symptom of a real disease. But people who have struggled with addiction know that succumbing to cravings doesn't exactly feel like an act of free will. There must be some intermediate between voluntary and involuntary to cover addictive behaviour. Is depression a disease? Because the symptoms of depression consist of voluntary action (or inaction) too.
Finally, for the author to call something a disease, it apparently has to be incurable. This seems ridiculous to me, but this was one of his arguments: Alcoholics Anonymous says that alcoholism is an incurable disease, and the only treatment is a 12-step program and total abstinence. But some people recover from alcoholism without this treatment. Therefore, it's not a disease. This is the argument Thompson makes. But his conclusion doesn't follow from his premise. The logical conclusion is that alcoholism isn't incurable, and that AA isn't the only treatment. Not all diseases are incurable - talk to people who have no traces left of cancer in their bodies.
Thompson even admits that the disease model has its uses, and that it's really a semantic argument anyway. So why make a big deal about it? He fears the drawbacks if people buy into the disease model wholeheartedly. Personally I think buying anything wholeheartedly is going to have drawbacks, and on principle, everything in the universe should be approached with a critical eye. But I suppose there are people who don't do this, and that Thompson is making a point about the dangers of totally accepting the disease model to the exclusion of other ideas. Fair enough, but you can make this point without relying on unconvincing arguments to prove addiction isn't a disease.
Personally, I don't know if it is a disease or isn't, and I'm not sure this categorizing is actually important in a practical sense. Thompson's point is that addictive behaviour exists on a spectrum, and is becoming more and more normalized in our society. He sees it as a problem of neurochemistry (on which he gives a basic primer) and availability -if a particular thing is not widely available and affordable, there is no widespread addiction to it. But addictive behaviour is easily transferable, and companies are specifically designing more products to be as addictive as possible.
The majority of this book covers the current state of addiction (mostly in Western society). There are lengthy chapters on alcohol, drugs, and porn, but the section on food is disappointingly short. Gambling, gaming, and shopping are also briefly discussed. Aside from a few details, I didn't learn much that I didn't already know, and Thompson offers little in the way of solutions.
If this is your first foray into the subject of addiction, this is an interesting and easy-to-read book. But there isn't much new information here for anyone who has already read a book or two about it. The Fix definitely isn't self-help, so if you are suffering from addiction yourself, you won't get much assistance here, aside from the knowledge that you are definitely not alone.
This review and more: http://perpetualspiralreviews.blogspo...
Thompson is convinced the "disease model" of addiction is incorrect, but his arguments against it are weak, in my opinion. It depends on how you define "disease", which he doesn't explicitly do. However, it seems as though Thompson believes to qualify for the term "disease", an illness must be a) scientifically identifiable b) have only involuntary symptoms; and c) be incurable. This seems too narrow to me, but these are the points on which his arguments rest.
Addiction cannot be specifically found or tested for in the organic body. Thompson argues that this means it's not a disease. But in the history of science, many diseases failed this test until the technology arose to detect them, or the pathology was discovered. I would be curious to know if Thompson doesn't believe that things like Fibromyalgia and ME/CFS are real diseases either, since they lack this qualification. But it's painfully obvious to me--literally-- that my chronic illness is a real disease, even though the doctors can't locate the source of it in my body.
Thompson also believes that because addictive behaviour is "voluntary", it can't be a symptom of a real disease. But people who have struggled with addiction know that succumbing to cravings doesn't exactly feel like an act of free will. There must be some intermediate between voluntary and involuntary to cover addictive behaviour. Is depression a disease? Because the symptoms of depression consist of voluntary action (or inaction) too.
Finally, for the author to call something a disease, it apparently has to be incurable. This seems ridiculous to me, but this was one of his arguments: Alcoholics Anonymous says that alcoholism is an incurable disease, and the only treatment is a 12-step program and total abstinence. But some people recover from alcoholism without this treatment. Therefore, it's not a disease. This is the argument Thompson makes. But his conclusion doesn't follow from his premise. The logical conclusion is that alcoholism isn't incurable, and that AA isn't the only treatment. Not all diseases are incurable - talk to people who have no traces left of cancer in their bodies.
Thompson even admits that the disease model has its uses, and that it's really a semantic argument anyway. So why make a big deal about it? He fears the drawbacks if people buy into the disease model wholeheartedly. Personally I think buying anything wholeheartedly is going to have drawbacks, and on principle, everything in the universe should be approached with a critical eye. But I suppose there are people who don't do this, and that Thompson is making a point about the dangers of totally accepting the disease model to the exclusion of other ideas. Fair enough, but you can make this point without relying on unconvincing arguments to prove addiction isn't a disease.
Personally, I don't know if it is a disease or isn't, and I'm not sure this categorizing is actually important in a practical sense. Thompson's point is that addictive behaviour exists on a spectrum, and is becoming more and more normalized in our society. He sees it as a problem of neurochemistry (on which he gives a basic primer) and availability -if a particular thing is not widely available and affordable, there is no widespread addiction to it. But addictive behaviour is easily transferable, and companies are specifically designing more products to be as addictive as possible.
The majority of this book covers the current state of addiction (mostly in Western society). There are lengthy chapters on alcohol, drugs, and porn, but the section on food is disappointingly short. Gambling, gaming, and shopping are also briefly discussed. Aside from a few details, I didn't learn much that I didn't already know, and Thompson offers little in the way of solutions.
If this is your first foray into the subject of addiction, this is an interesting and easy-to-read book. But there isn't much new information here for anyone who has already read a book or two about it. The Fix definitely isn't self-help, so if you are suffering from addiction yourself, you won't get much assistance here, aside from the knowledge that you are definitely not alone.
This review and more: http://perpetualspiralreviews.blogspo...
August 21, 2013
The Fix by Damian Thompson
The cover says it all – How addiction is taking over your world. At first glance it is not alarming, after all, I don’t smoke, do no drugs and am only an occasional taster of wine. So it can’t be me. But wait!! What is addiction in the widest sense? That is where the book takes us on an alarming journey through modern life. Addiction need not be drugs, it is the process reflected in many aspects of living, which progressively erodes the quality of life and enslaves the individual into a helpless ritual which ultimately is not pleasurable at all. Walk down the streets and watch the people. How many look around? All are glued to their smart phones, compulsively checking it again and again, despite the lack of activity in it. People are linked to others through Twitter, Facebook, SMS, e-mail, Whatsapp, Viber and a horde of other networking tools. Yet people are uncomfortable or just don’t have time to have face-to-face encounters. People are immersed in an electronic world at the expense of the real world and prefer living a virtual life. How many have lost sleep only to perennially update themselves on inconsequential trivia, which is becoming their life itself?
Are the multitude of mood modifying drugs really good? Are we artificially drugging ourselves to live a life we are not biologically designed for? The sheer bulk of psychiatric products the world consumes is shocking. We live amidst people with their brains modified and driven by pharmaceutical products. The brain works in ways more complex than we can understand and the drugs could have unforeseen consequences, not always favorable. We are creating an extraordinary situation where we live literally like zombies, with a drug for stimulating an emotion than one acquired through living.
The book is more poignant as the author is himself an ex-addict who is willing to make an unabashed confession of what brought him down and what is bring others down. The story is grim, yet, has a silver lining to it. We can return to our self-control and be our masters if we come to terms with what is happening to us and are objective in our self-assessment.
The author observes that …As Facebook becomes ubiquitous, the worry is that relationships in the real world will resemble those in the digital one: transitory, accelerated, pragmatic associations that provide a hit of narcissistic reassurance rather than lasting bond between close friends…
Our lives helplessly swing between dopamine-driven ‘wanting’ and endorphin-driven ‘liking’. It is time to read this book and start living life again, the way it should be! It is a MUST READ.
The cover says it all – How addiction is taking over your world. At first glance it is not alarming, after all, I don’t smoke, do no drugs and am only an occasional taster of wine. So it can’t be me. But wait!! What is addiction in the widest sense? That is where the book takes us on an alarming journey through modern life. Addiction need not be drugs, it is the process reflected in many aspects of living, which progressively erodes the quality of life and enslaves the individual into a helpless ritual which ultimately is not pleasurable at all. Walk down the streets and watch the people. How many look around? All are glued to their smart phones, compulsively checking it again and again, despite the lack of activity in it. People are linked to others through Twitter, Facebook, SMS, e-mail, Whatsapp, Viber and a horde of other networking tools. Yet people are uncomfortable or just don’t have time to have face-to-face encounters. People are immersed in an electronic world at the expense of the real world and prefer living a virtual life. How many have lost sleep only to perennially update themselves on inconsequential trivia, which is becoming their life itself?
Are the multitude of mood modifying drugs really good? Are we artificially drugging ourselves to live a life we are not biologically designed for? The sheer bulk of psychiatric products the world consumes is shocking. We live amidst people with their brains modified and driven by pharmaceutical products. The brain works in ways more complex than we can understand and the drugs could have unforeseen consequences, not always favorable. We are creating an extraordinary situation where we live literally like zombies, with a drug for stimulating an emotion than one acquired through living.
The book is more poignant as the author is himself an ex-addict who is willing to make an unabashed confession of what brought him down and what is bring others down. The story is grim, yet, has a silver lining to it. We can return to our self-control and be our masters if we come to terms with what is happening to us and are objective in our self-assessment.
The author observes that …As Facebook becomes ubiquitous, the worry is that relationships in the real world will resemble those in the digital one: transitory, accelerated, pragmatic associations that provide a hit of narcissistic reassurance rather than lasting bond between close friends…
Our lives helplessly swing between dopamine-driven ‘wanting’ and endorphin-driven ‘liking’. It is time to read this book and start living life again, the way it should be! It is a MUST READ.
November 22, 2013
"The Fix" offers an up-close look at addictions, changing the reader's perception of what that word really even means. "Addicts" are not just those dependent on alcohol, gambling, or hard drugs. No. Think cupcakes, television, checking Facebook, checking your hair, shopping, Vicodin, pornography, strip clubs, coffee, sugary scones every morning with breakfast, the list goes on, all these things and more able to foster real addictions. Thompson challenges the Alcoholics Anonymous-spawned idea, though, that addiction is a disease. No, he says, addiction is a scary habit of replacing people with things. Viewing it this way makes it more logical. This insight, which Thompson borrowed, comes from Craig Nakken's "The Addictive Personality," in which he writes that addicts form primary relationships with objects and events, not people. The addict begins to judge others only in terms of how useful they are in delivering a fix. Everyone, though, lets the addict own at some point, leading the addict to conclude that objects are more reliable than people. Objects have no wants or needs. "In a relationship with an object the addict always comes first," says Nakken.
"The Fix" opened my eyes to addiction and how it's everywhere…like my life. I now realize that I have struggled (and still do, to some extent) with addictions: sugar, Facebook, checking my email, checking my iPhone, shopping… and how our media/commercial economy/et cetera likes to exploit my addictions to their benefit.
The first step to beating your addictions is realizing you have them and realizing you want and need to beat them. Otherwise, they will overcome you (read about what addiction does to your brain).
Though Damian Thompson does not seem to be writing from a Christian perspective, I would strongly recommend that Christians read "The Fix." Why? Well, think about addictions by another name: idols, and you'll understand how important it is to beat them, even and especially the addictions that seem harmless. Gone unchecked, they can really hurt your relationship with God.
"The Fix" woke me up.
"The Fix" opened my eyes to addiction and how it's everywhere…like my life. I now realize that I have struggled (and still do, to some extent) with addictions: sugar, Facebook, checking my email, checking my iPhone, shopping… and how our media/commercial economy/et cetera likes to exploit my addictions to their benefit.
The first step to beating your addictions is realizing you have them and realizing you want and need to beat them. Otherwise, they will overcome you (read about what addiction does to your brain).
Though Damian Thompson does not seem to be writing from a Christian perspective, I would strongly recommend that Christians read "The Fix." Why? Well, think about addictions by another name: idols, and you'll understand how important it is to beat them, even and especially the addictions that seem harmless. Gone unchecked, they can really hurt your relationship with God.
"The Fix" woke me up.
September 18, 2016
Pretty interesting read. It did not feel like the basic concept was something too foregin, however it did capture everything in a pretty nice package.
March 27, 2013
When more and more doctors, scientists and the leader of the National Institute on Drug Abuse are declaring that substance abuse is a disease, it couldn't be a more useful time to read The Fix by Damian Thompson, himself a former alcoholic and substance abuser.
Thompson is a writer for the British newspaper, the Daily Telegraph, and when The Fix was published, a book that refuses to bow to the disease model, instead reminding us of the power of free will and
choice, he was not a popular man.
There are three things that cause this book to stand out and warrant a read. One, Thompson argues, in a manner that echoes, albeit in a softer way, the dark proposition of the film The Addiction, directed
by hard hitting Abel Ferrara, that we are all addicts waiting to be baited by the appropriate lure. And two, which is the central theme and cautionary message of this book, that our capitalistic culture is
increasingly applying what is being learnt in the addiction field to entice consumers to return again and again to the marketplace for our pleasure fix, whether it be through drugs, computer games, the latest
iPhone or cupcake flavor. And three, the claim that addiction is rooted in our various decisions to turn from the messiness and unpredictability of human relationships to objects, substances and repetitive gaming motions instead, for nourishment, companionship, pleasure and excitement.
Perhaps addiction really is the result of a lack of love?
Thompson is a writer for the British newspaper, the Daily Telegraph, and when The Fix was published, a book that refuses to bow to the disease model, instead reminding us of the power of free will and
choice, he was not a popular man.
There are three things that cause this book to stand out and warrant a read. One, Thompson argues, in a manner that echoes, albeit in a softer way, the dark proposition of the film The Addiction, directed
by hard hitting Abel Ferrara, that we are all addicts waiting to be baited by the appropriate lure. And two, which is the central theme and cautionary message of this book, that our capitalistic culture is
increasingly applying what is being learnt in the addiction field to entice consumers to return again and again to the marketplace for our pleasure fix, whether it be through drugs, computer games, the latest
iPhone or cupcake flavor. And three, the claim that addiction is rooted in our various decisions to turn from the messiness and unpredictability of human relationships to objects, substances and repetitive gaming motions instead, for nourishment, companionship, pleasure and excitement.
Perhaps addiction really is the result of a lack of love?
July 24, 2012
The legend on the book cover asks ‘Check your Blackberry a little too often? Does your morning not begin unless you’re armed with your latte gripped tightly in hand?’
As someone who feels like their arm has been amputated if her Blackberry is out of reach and whose workday always starts with getting out the cafetiere when she arrives at work, I thought that this book would give me some insight into what was going on inside my head.
Damian Thompson has carried out what appears to be a very thorough investigation into addiction, based on the number of literary references he has in each chapter. As a recovering alcoholic he as has a wealth of personal experience to talk about as well. However this is not a self-indulgent, ‘got to get this of my chest because my therapist says it is good for me’ ‘know-it-all’ book. Damian approaches the subject in a methodical and relatively non-biased way, presenting views that he does not necessarily agree with. Nor does he use the cop out ‘it’s a disease’.
He discusses the earliest forms of addiction and how various addictions e.g. the 18th Century Gin Craze started. He also looks at how technology is taking over and leads on to newer forms of addiction e.g. gambling.
An eye opening and thought provoking read.
As someone who feels like their arm has been amputated if her Blackberry is out of reach and whose workday always starts with getting out the cafetiere when she arrives at work, I thought that this book would give me some insight into what was going on inside my head.
Damian Thompson has carried out what appears to be a very thorough investigation into addiction, based on the number of literary references he has in each chapter. As a recovering alcoholic he as has a wealth of personal experience to talk about as well. However this is not a self-indulgent, ‘got to get this of my chest because my therapist says it is good for me’ ‘know-it-all’ book. Damian approaches the subject in a methodical and relatively non-biased way, presenting views that he does not necessarily agree with. Nor does he use the cop out ‘it’s a disease’.
He discusses the earliest forms of addiction and how various addictions e.g. the 18th Century Gin Craze started. He also looks at how technology is taking over and leads on to newer forms of addiction e.g. gambling.
An eye opening and thought provoking read.
January 12, 2015
Journalist Damian Thompson draws on his own experiences as an alcoholic to examine how addiction and compulsive behaviour are becoming ingrained in modern society. He questions the medicalisation of addiction and debunks the quasi-religious "12-Step" programme devised by Alcoholics Anonymous - and taken up by other addiction help groups and the medical parasites that make their careers from it.
Put simply, if addiction is a disease, how come its sufferers can cure themselves simply by choosing not to show the symptoms? Try that with cancer. The inevitable conclusion is that the addiction industry is colluding with the marketing industry to create a culture of helplessness before the irresistable force of our own spinelessness and greed.
Thompson takes the science of addiction and brain-mapping to examine less-obvious modern addictions, focusing on the three archetypes Vicodin, iPhones and cupcakes.
His study is fairly academic, so studies are cited and notes provided, but the style is engagingly journalistic. It's a compelling argument, made from the point of view of common sense rather than the mumbo-jumbo of those with a vested interest in turning our ordinary human nature into something that needs to be cured - at a price.
Put simply, if addiction is a disease, how come its sufferers can cure themselves simply by choosing not to show the symptoms? Try that with cancer. The inevitable conclusion is that the addiction industry is colluding with the marketing industry to create a culture of helplessness before the irresistable force of our own spinelessness and greed.
Thompson takes the science of addiction and brain-mapping to examine less-obvious modern addictions, focusing on the three archetypes Vicodin, iPhones and cupcakes.
His study is fairly academic, so studies are cited and notes provided, but the style is engagingly journalistic. It's a compelling argument, made from the point of view of common sense rather than the mumbo-jumbo of those with a vested interest in turning our ordinary human nature into something that needs to be cured - at a price.
June 21, 2016
Each chapter of this book deals with an addiction, some of which I never even thought of as being problematic to society. The one that caught my attention most was the addiction to sugar in our generation and the long-term, harmful effects the sweet substance has on our health. This is something which is increasingly being brought to our attention in the media.
Obvious addictions, like smoking, also have a designated chapter. Less obvious are an addiction to cupcakes and iPods. No matter the kind, more to the point is the writer's view that becoming hooked on them at all is a societal problem, one of replacing all-important family togetherness and a focus on work.
The author has obviously gone to the trouble of researching much of the information contained in this book, which reads as an interesting "how-to-avoid" missive, rather than as a documentary in print. It is food, or rather, an addiction, for thought.
Obvious addictions, like smoking, also have a designated chapter. Less obvious are an addiction to cupcakes and iPods. No matter the kind, more to the point is the writer's view that becoming hooked on them at all is a societal problem, one of replacing all-important family togetherness and a focus on work.
The author has obviously gone to the trouble of researching much of the information contained in this book, which reads as an interesting "how-to-avoid" missive, rather than as a documentary in print. It is food, or rather, an addiction, for thought.
September 26, 2013
Sociological exploration into addiction. Not so much answering what is addiction or how to solve it, but moreso exploring its attributes in the context of today, oftentimes using very relevant examples of the iphone, cupcake rage and Vicodin to move the conversation forward. He pushes us to think about addiction beyond historical medical views; how we are all privy to mass producing addiction. How does today's world (smart technology meets consumer) play into addictive behavior? How does our previous definition confine its scope, and hide its true attributes, and falsely allow us to believe we aren't all addicts? Damian's approach is to have the reader think critically about the nature of addiction and be mindful of how we and our consumer world may be consciously or unconsciously fueling our addictions.
August 10, 2013
I picked this up as it was reviewed favourably by The Economist. Its central message it is how it is unhelpful to describe addiction as a disease more than a lack of willpower over what is now the endless availability of temptation - internet pornography is one of the examples he uses.
Further to this he says that substance use allows us to replace relationships with people for relationships with objects, be they drugs, cream cakes or the latest iThing.
I get the impression he is rather concerned about the rise in addiction, but he rubbishs much of the scaremongering and knee-jerk reactions of some commentators and politicians.
Best part of the book for me was the neuroscience bit - but that's what I like. Now to visit teensluts.com
Further to this he says that substance use allows us to replace relationships with people for relationships with objects, be they drugs, cream cakes or the latest iThing.
I get the impression he is rather concerned about the rise in addiction, but he rubbishs much of the scaremongering and knee-jerk reactions of some commentators and politicians.
Best part of the book for me was the neuroscience bit - but that's what I like. Now to visit teensluts.com
December 19, 2014
In The Fix, Damian Thompson, a former addict and a sociologist, explores many aspects of addiction and society. He touches on the more familiar addictions - drugs, alcohol, gambling and pornography, but also the less obvious ones - cupcakes and sugar, online social gaming such as FarmVille, technology and iPhones, prescription medication, social media, and so on. He discusses in detail how, as a society, we are becoming more and more at risk - "what I hope this book has illustrated is the direction in which we are moving - towards government by desires that, thanks to a fundamental mismatch between the evolution of our bodies and the evolution of society, have a tendency to run out of control."
Very interesting. Very readable. Very scary.
Very interesting. Very readable. Very scary.
April 15, 2014
Very interesting book. Well-written, a bit provocative, not heavy on the science, but fascinating to anyone interested in how humans behave when offered so many choices -- choices in what to watch on our various electronic devices, what pills to take and why, what to drink and when, what to eat and when to stop, how to medicate our children who don't pay attention in class, etc. The author is a Brit, but he writes from an international point of view, so I believe the information he presents is relevant to anyone.
I picked up this book at the library and didn't really expect to read the whole thing. But I may read it again -- I think it offers a lot of wise and clear-headed thinking about modern life and the choices we make.
I picked up this book at the library and didn't really expect to read the whole thing. But I may read it again -- I think it offers a lot of wise and clear-headed thinking about modern life and the choices we make.
August 18, 2015
The author's point is that modern society's combination of high stress and availability of addictive activities has overwhelmed our primitive pleasure centers and made addiction an epidemic, which is bad and getting worse. The creepiest part of this book is the discussion of how major corporations hire people who are experts on the causes of addiction to make their products more addictive. I don't agree with everything the author says. At times he seems to be advocating a new puritainism, i.e. anything that makes us feel good, but isn't productive, is bad. But the book makes you think and has caused me to look at the world a little differently. Also, it is a fairly easy read.
January 7, 2013
Rather weak. While there is a good chunk of this book that is certainly interesting - its look at why the twelve-step program is crap, for example - the failure to understand scientific research which surrounds it is deeply dissatisfying. A case in point: performing repetitive actions and/or attempting (or even considering!) performing actions based on recent gameplay is put forward as evidence of game addiction, rather than what it is, brains adapting to recent stimuli in a way that makes sense to them. That sort of thing runs through the book, and overshadows any usefulness it might have.
March 3, 2013
Fascinating analysis of the addictive forces in modern society, and the powerful interests for whom getting consumers addicted to their products is a matter of balance-sheet policy. Many insights, of which the most valuable are the way that people are evolutionarily hard wired to 'want' more than to 'enjoy' what their desires have achieved, and how the path of addiction is to replace people with objects.
August 11, 2013
I wanted the author to go in to more depth in to some of the topics - it felt like theories were introduced but then he hopped on to another bit of research and it didn't get deep enough in to any one theory to be satisfying (to me) -- but then again, maybe he was creating a 'fix' for more information? I liked that his sources were cited at the back for further reading/inquiry.
November 20, 2012
This is a book stuffed with intricate details about alchohol, drug and porn addiction. Loved the way the author explained the concept of addiction and how people are getting addicted to common electronic gadgets and food stuff inadvertently.
July 11, 2013
Beautifully written by a journalist I will always read, whatever subject he's tackling. This is a well-researched and down to earth airing of addictions, large and small. Anyone who's had a child - or indeed any loved one - with problems should read it.
August 21, 2013
Found this to be poorly written and researched. Feels like a puffed out newspaper article. It is written in superficial journalese, focuses on the author's personal addiction to alcohol addiction and is very very boring.
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