We Don’t Call Social Media an Addiction – So Why Is Porn Different?

A few weeks ago, Meta agreed to pay up to $18 billion to settle lawsuits brought by 48 US states over allegations that Facebook and Instagram were designed in ways that encouraged addictive use among children and contributed to harms to their mental health. Meta has not admitted wrongdoing. But under the agreement, significant new restrictions will be introduced for teenagers, including a two-hour daily limit, restrictions on overnight use and notifications during school hours, as well as stronger age verification.

Most would agree this is progress. We’re recognising potential harms and we’re doing something about them. Crucially, we haven’t waited for academics to agree on whether social media is a ‘real’ addiction before taking action. So my question is – why can’t we do the same with pornography?

These academic debates may continue for many years, but in the meantime compulsive porn use is causing very real harm. Some people are losing relationships and sometimes careers. Some are spending hours every day consuming pornography that they desperately want to stop viewing. Some find their sexual interests escalating into material that conflicts profoundly with their values. Others experience sexual dysfunction, isolation, shame and deteriorating mental health. Partners and families are affected too. These are people who do not care about the accuracy of the label ‘addiction’, what they care about is finding help. 

So let’s be clear – there is no universally recognised psychiatric diagnosis of ‘social media addiction’. Indeed, Meta itself has argued in litigation that social media addiction is not an officially recognised psychiatric disorder. Thankfully governments aren’t responding by saying: Well, in that case, there’s nothing to worry about. Instead, they’re asking sensible questions. Are these products designed in ways that encourage excessive use? Are some people more vulnerable than others? What are the consequences of prolonged or inappropriate exposure? What responsibilities do companies have? How do we protect children? And what do we do when harm has already occurred?

Those are exactly the questions we should be asking about pornography.

Instead, discussions about pornography harm are too often derailed by arguments about whether ‘porn addiction’ exists. Of course terminology matters. We need accurate diagnoses and we must be careful not to pathologise recreational use. Millions of people view pornography without experiencing significant problems, but the fact that ‘not everyone is harmed’ is not the same as ‘there is no harm’. 

Over recent years there has been significant progress in the UK when it comes to addressing some of the issues raised by easy access to pornography. We now have age assurance for online pornography and new legislation targeting harmful pornographic content and non-consensual intimate images. The current activity is focused on access, content, criminality and child protection. These are all vital, but what happens when the person viewing pornography is an adult who knows their behaviour is causing harm and desperately wants to stop? What are we doing to help them? 

Government has invested considerable effort into regulating online platforms and protecting children from pornography. Quite rightly. But we’ve invested very little in supporting the adults whose lives are already being damaged by their pornography use.

There is no clear national pathway for someone worried that their pornography use is becoming compulsive. There is little public information about what problematic use looks like, when to seek help or where to find appropriately trained professionals. And there is no coherent national prevention or treatment strategy. For many people, the pathway to help is quite literally a Google search. Is the persistent ‘addiction’ debate blocking progress? I believe it is. But the recent action on social media offer us another way. We can talk about product design, vulnerability, exposure, responsibility, prevention and harm without requiring every user to have a diagnosis.

Pornography is not simply an online safety issue. It’s also a relationship issue, a mental health issue, a family issue and, for some people, a criminal justice issue.

When one issue cuts across health, education, policing and digital regulation, somebody has to join the dots. I’d like to see one minister, one department and one national strategy taking responsibility for pornography-related harms – not simply for what content is legal or who can access it, but for prevention, education, early intervention and treatment.

People should know where to go for reliable information before their lives begin to unravel. And those already struggling should have somewhere to turn other than a Google search.

The question isn’t whether we should call pornography addictive. The question is whether we’re prepared to take pornography-related harm seriously enough to do something about it.