Despite the melodramatic title of
this book, Cybersex: The Dark Side of the Force is in fact an academic
publication, and originally came out as a special issue of the journal Sexual
Addiction and Compulsivity.  The
seven articles are scholarly in form, with footnotes and references.  The authors are mostly associated with
private clinics, treatment centers, or universities, although there is detailed
information about them, and so it isn’t clear what their affiliation with
universities is, or even what degrees they hold.  (There’s nothing to stop someone from teaching an introductory
psychology university course as an adjunct professor and then saying that they
are at that university.)  My concern
over status here is because there is a scarcity of good research on online
addiction, especially for online sex, probably because it is a relatively new
phenomenon, and so one needs to give careful scrutiny to claims about the
prevalence and treatment of these problems. 
The articles here seem well researched and the authors take a thoughtful
approach to their topic, but they tend to avoid some of the more difficult
ethical and conceptual problems about the nature of cybersex addiction.  Nevertheless, it is an important
contribution to the available literature.

This book was published in 2000,
yet it remains one of the few serious examinations of the phenomenon of
cybersex as an addiction.  The writing
is mostly free of academic jargon and indeed one of the papers includes
quotations from family members talking about their experience of how cybersex
addictions have affected their lives, and these are gripping and moving.  Some of the papers include technical terms,
but it is possible to understand the main ideas even if one is not familiar
with the technicalities.  Many of the
papers talk about causes and ways to address online sex addictions, and this
could be useful both to therapists, addicts themselves, and their family
members. 

The first paper, by Al Cooper,
David Delmonico and Ron Burg sets out and analyses a survey they performed of
sexual addiction online.  Cooper is here
listed as affiliated with the San Jose Marital and Sexuality Center, and the short
biographical sketch about him on the back cover says he is the Director of that
Center.  It also says that he is the
training program coordinator for Stanford’s counseling and psychological
services at their Cowell Student Health Center.  He has suggested in other work that there are three main factors
that "turbocharge" online sexual activity — easy accessibility, easy
affordability, and relative anonymity — and he has dubbed this the
"Triple-A Engine."  While this
sounds very plausible, no evidence is cited in support of the claim.  The survey that this paper discusses was
conducted in 1998, via the MSNBC web site.  
While one might worry that people who might fill out a survey on sexual
addiction might not be a representative sample, the authors say that they have
evidence that their respondents were representative of online users. 

Their data are certainly
interesting: while 83.5% of their sample of 9,265 respondents are categorized
as nonsexually compulsive, the remaining 16.5% of online users had some degree
of sexual compulsivity.  It is
interesting to know that the majority of all users engaged in some online
sexual activity each week, although for most it was not a problem.  10.9% of all users (or two thirds of those
who have some degree of compulsivity) count as having moderate compulsivity,
4.6% of all users (or 29% of all those with some compulsivity) were sexually
compulsive, and about 1% (or about 6% of those with some compulsivity) were
cybersex compulsive.  The distinction
between sexually compulsive and cybersex compulsive is one that merits some
thought: people in the two groups both scored over two standard deviations
above the norm on the sexual compulsivity scale, but cybersex compulsives spent
more than 11 hours online each week in sexual activity pursuits.  The main idea behind the cybersex
compulsives is that for them, cybersex is the main form that there compulsivity
takes, while for sexual compulsives more generally, cybersex is just one form
that their compulsivity takes.  Surprisingly,
the amount of time spent online seeking out sexual material was not the main
mark of compulsion: those with no compulsivity, moderate compulsivity and
sexual compulsivity apparently showed little difference in this, at 1-10 hours
per week.  Strikingly, the most extreme
category, those with cybersex compulsions, spent 15-25 hours per week pursuing
online sexual material.  Given that
probably the majority of the population in North America and Europe use computers
and go online on a regular basis, this suggests that literally millions of
people are struggling with major cybersex compulsions and are wasting large
portions of their lives with online sexual activities. 

The most powerful article in the book is Jennifer
Schneider’s "Effects of Cybersex Addiction on the Family," which
spells out the results of a brief survey in which respondents gave written
answers to questions.  Strikingly, while
in the Cooper survey there was little indication that men were more likely to
be cybersexually compulsive than women, in Schneider’s survey of family members
affected by cybersex, 91 of the 94 people were women, of the 3 men who
completed the survey, 2 were in homosexual relationships, while only 1 of the
91 women was lesbian. It is hard to know how to assess this disparity.  One possibility is that while men having
cybersex causes troubles in relationships while women’s cybersex does not cause
trouble.  Or it might be that
Schneider’s sample is too small and too unrepresentative, and that the effect
of women having cybersex for their partners went undetected by her.  Schneider makes a distinction somewhat
similar to that of Cooper et al between the sexually compulsive and cybersex
compulsives, but she draws it more explicitly between those for whom online sex
is a continuation of a preexisting addictive sexual disorder and those for whom
the cybersex has itself been addictive. 
Of the addicts as described by their partners in the survey population,
29 were in the former category while 16 were in the latter.  This suggests that for a substantial
proportion of people who have cybersex addictions of any kind, they would not
have had them if they had not encountered the online world.  But the results of Schneider’s survey are at
best just indications of what subsequent more thorough surveys might
investigate.  What Schneider’s work does
most powerfully is show the damaging effects on families of cybersex,
especially because of the violation of trust it causes through repeated lying
and the shame of all involved.  It can also
cause sexual problems between the couple, and especially if a woman feels that
she cannot compare to the partners in her partner’s pornography or chat-room
partners.  Furthermore, cybersex addicts
are simply not physically present much of the time since they are busy with
their online obsessions, and the lying and shame may lead to their being less
emotionally available to their families. 
The families of addicts always experience terrible sadness, frustration,
anger and a sense of betrayal, and the writing of the survey-respondents brings
to life how similar the case is for cybersex addiction.  There is brief discussion of ways to repair
the damage done by this problem, but it is clear that as with other addictions,
the problematic behavior can be very difficult to overcome even when marriages
are in danger and families may split apart.

Kimberly S. Young et al. discuss
the particular phenomenon of cyberaffairs, in which people have erotic
relationships online in email, chatrooms, and even interactive games.  They are a growing cause of divorce and
while Young et al. have not conducted any surveys on the problem themselves,
the other papers in this book suggest that, along with other forms of cybersex,
people are having such relationships in increasing numbers.  It is clear that online infidelity can be
just as emotionally damaging as real-life affairs.  Much of the article is devoted to hints for therapists in helping
people face the damage caused and repair their relationship.  They recommend using nonjudgmental language,
reducing shame, and using empathetic listening; all this seems rather obvious
and part of most therapists’ standard technique.  Nevertheless, the article could at least provide a useful
starting place for therapists looking to treat clients with such problems, and
it may be helpful to families themselves trying to cope with the aftereffects
of cyberaffairs. 

After these three articles, the
following three tend to repeat much of the information already stated or to
provide information that is probably already familiar to most people.  Robert Freeman-Longo discusses the dangers
of online sexuality and cybersex for children and teens.  His main concern is the exposure of young
people to pornographic images and themselves becoming addicted to pornography.  He does not devote much attention to the
much publicized worry of young people being solicited for sexual liaisons in
chatrooms.  His main recommendation is
to educate people about the dangers of the Internet, use software that blocks
inappropriate sites and to supervise young people’s online activity as much as
possible.  In another article, Dana
Putnam, who runs the website onlinesexaddict.org, and Marlene Maheu set out
some of the online resources for avoiding and recovering from online sex
addiction.  Given that this paper is now
5 years old, it is likely to be somewhat out of date now, although the authors
keep their recommendations fairly general. 
Although Maressa Orzack and Carol Ross ask a great question with their
"Should Virtual Sex Be Treated Like Other Sex Addictions?," their
paper is really a summary of available treatment options with a couple of cases
used to illustrate their discussion. 

The final paper in the book, by
Mark Schwarz and Stephen Southern of the Masters & Johnson Clinic, is
probably the most provocative in the collection, because it delves more deeply
into the psychodynamics of cybersex. 
Apart from the obvious problems that other authors have set out, Schwarz
and Southern take it as obvious that cybersex is a barrier to genuine intimacy
between people, and their task is to explain why people engage in such
self-defeating behavior.  Other papers
remain silent about the causes of cybersex addiction, refer to a behaviorist
model of masturbatory conditioning, or focus on the attractions of cybersex,
such as in Cooper’s "Triple-A Engine."  But Schwartz and Southern go deeper, highlighting the depth
psychology and unconscious factors that might play a role.  The computer is not a substance one ingests
like heroin, and so to use a simple addiction model when discussing cybersex
will probably be inadequate.  Like other
self-defeating behavior like eating disorders, cybersex may partly be about
control.  Cybersex can be an attempt to
make oneself desirable, and through the conscious fantasy, addicts might hope
to foster a sense of power and control over one’s life.  Schwartz and Southern also discuss the
dissociation that goes with cybersex addiction.  Focus on the computer can put people in a trance-like state and
this helps them to ignore outside events and emotions that they don’t want to
experience. 

Maybe the most controversial claim
the authors make is that cybersex will often be an unconscious attempt to work
through previous trauma and gain control over the traumatic event.  They describe a priest who engages in
cybersex with teenage boys, but he himself was abused as a boy, and they say he
is attempting to regain his lost youth. 
They give two brief examples.  A
35-year-old woman engages in cybersex in which she tells me to treat her like a
slut, because when she was 16 she gave up her own baby for adoption and at some
level she believes that she really is a slut. 
In a survey of 40 patients, they determined that 27 had a history of
sexual abuse, 29 had mood disorder, and 28 had sexual addiction. 14 of the 21
women in the study had an eating disorder, and 14 of the 19 men had a chemical
dependency.  This sort of evidence is
hardly strong confirmation of their hypothesis that cybersex typically serves
as a re-enactment of past trauma, and skeptics might point out that such abuse
hypotheses have often not stood up to careful scrutiny.  If cybersex addiction is as prevalent as
some studies seem to show, then this would mean that sexual abuse is very
common, and this takes us into familiar controversies.  Nevertheless, it is a claim that deserved
further investigation. 

For treatment of cybersex
addiction, Schwartz and Southern propose the same sorts of approaches suggested
by others in this collection, but they put more emphasis on seeing the cybersex
as symptomatic of an underlying disorder such as depression or PTSD.  But some clients may also have social skills
deficits leading to their sense of isolation and their reliance on the virtual
world, so Schwartz and Southern recommend social skills training for such
people.  For other sorts of problems,
they propose using many of the standard techniques of sex therapy. 

Since all these papers take a
therapeutic stance, they have no interest in assessing personal responsibility for
cybersex.  They do not want people to
blame themselves because that simply increases shame.  Nevertheless, the question of responsibility will probably be of
great concern to families with cybersex addicts and also to the addicts
themselves.  At one end of the spectrum
of possible positions is a simple disease model, which would hold that cybersex
addicts have no direct control over their behavior, although they can take
steps to end their disease.  Many people
will be very skeptical about applying a disease model to cybersex addiction,
which would be the most responsibility-absolving approach.  The view at the other extreme, that cybersex
addiction is pure self-indulgence and has no excuse, may be more plausible to
some. This is similar to cases where people are impatient with the excuses of
compulsive gamblers, compulsive eaters, and compulsive shoppers.  There are positions between these two
extremes which assign partial responsibility to the addict depending on the
circumstances and the addict’s history. 
These questions of responsibility cannot be dismissed as irrelevant,
especially when a cybersex addict has been negligent to his or her children, or
has engaged in illegal online activity. 
Psychologists may want to leave blame out of the therapeutic encounter,
but they still should have something to say about the extent to which
individuals could have refrained from engaging in their addictive
behavior.  It is somewhat disappointing
that the papers in this book avoid this issue. 

What is clear is that as most homes
have not just one but several computers, often with a fast Internet connection,
and personal phones (mobile/cell) and other portable devices become more
integrated with the Internet, the problem of compulsive online sexual activity
is likely to grow, and it will be very difficult to create software or controls
that will prevent it.  While books like Cybersex
should be helpful in an individual therapeutic context, we may well also have
to deal with the addiction as a social problem.  It seems unlikely that any "Just Say No" education
program would be of much use.  If
psychologists can provide any real insight and effective intervention into the
problem, they may be able to have a powerful role to play in the shaping of our
assessment of the benefits and costs of the Internet. 

 

Link:

·       
Review of Kimberly S.
Young: Caught in the Net

 

© 2005 Christian Perring. All rights reserved. 

 

Christian Perring, Ph.D., is Academic Chair of
the Arts & Humanities Division and Chair of the Philosophy Department at
Dowling College, Long Island. He is also editor of Metapsychology Online
Review.  His main research is on philosophical issues in medicine,
psychiatry and psychology.

Categories: Addiction, Sexuality