User Behavior
I feel like one of B. F. Skinner's white Carneaux pigeons when I go online. Those pigeons spent
the most important parts of their lives in boxes, relentlessly pecking Plexiglas fragments. They
did this by assisting Harvard psychologist Skinner in mapping out a set of behavioral principles
that apply, with eerie precision, to the design of digital experiences in the 21st century.
Skinner taught his birds to tap the Plexiglas to get food. In some cases, the pigeons received food
for each peck they made. Skinner established timed intervals between each reward in other
arrangements. The system stopped giving the pigeon treats for, say, 60 seconds after it gave it
food. If the bird pecked again after that time had passed, it would receive a second payment. The
pigeons came close to mastering the timing, but they never quite did. Skinner would change the
time between food availability at random. In one instance, food would be available once more in
60 seconds. It could happen after five seconds, 50 seconds, or 200 seconds the next time.
The pigeons went crazy in these unstable conditions. They'd repeatedly scratch. For 16 hours, a
single pigeon struck the Plexiglas 2.5 times per second. Another person tapped 87,000 times in
14 hours, but only received a reward less than 1% of the time.
So? Here is a straightforward illustration of how modern digital life applies Skinner's pigeon
research. I've chosen a hypothetical scenario: He's a journalist named Michael S. His job requires
him to send and receive emails on a regular basis. He receives an email every 45 minutes on
average. There may be only two minutes between emails at times. Sometimes it takes three
hours. Some of these emails are entertaining, despite the fact that many of them are unimportant
or cause stress. Soon, whenever Michael S has access to the internet, he begins checking his
email inbox every 30 minutes, then every 5 minutes, and occasionally every 2 minutes. Soon, it
becomes a compulsion—the web usage's pecking pigeon.
Should we hold Michael S accountable for wasting countless hours of his life pressing a single
button? We might. He does not have much self-control, and he chose a job where email is used a
lot to communicate.
On the other hand, would we be able to blame Skinner's pigeons if they were confined to a box
and pecked away at their grains and hemp seeds while a pioneering researcher discovered the
flaws in their brains? Who actually controls the entire situation? The birds? Or Skinner, the
original creator of the box?
, By 2015, it will be commonplace to say that the internet is distracting. We casually discuss the
addiction and compulsion of digital life. In the early 2000s, consumers dubbed the first widely
available smartphone the crackberry. In conversation, we use terms normally reserved for
methamphetamine and slot machines to describe fundamental applications and tools like
Facebook, email, Netflix, and Twitter.
Since 1996, just three years after the first mainstream web browser was released, psychologists
have been discussing the possibility of internet addiction. However, no one can agree on a
method for diagnosing internet addiction or whether it even exists. Its prevalence estimates vary
greatly. The internet is clearly useful and does not kill people like heroin. Additionally, it can be
challenging to separate the addictive experience (such as pornography or online gambling) from
the medium (the internet).
In any case, the extremes of these diagnostic categories are common. They don't seem to cover
the full range of experiences that people talk about when they joke about crackberries or get
sucked into Facebook and Tumblr.
However, millions of people frequently interpret the internet in terms of compulsion. Critics
attribute this situation to either individual internet users or the internet itself. Both make little
sense. The experience of using the internet is not predetermined. Protocols and connections make
up this system. A global computer network does not necessitate addictive behaviors in any way.
The smartest statisticians and computer scientists work in technology companies, and their job is
to break your willpower. Should people be blamed for having poor self-control? Yes, up to a
point. Personal accountability is important. However, it is essential to be aware of the fact that
numerous websites and other digital tools have been specifically designed to elicit compulsive
behavior.
The fundamental form of the web that the majority of us use every day is determined by a small
number of businesses. By attracting users' attention and converting it into pageviews and clicks,
many of these businesses earn money. In an effort to capture as much of that attention as they
possibly can, they have staked their futures on methods for forming user habits. In order to entice
customers to use their products, successful businesses form specialized teams and accumulate
vast amounts of individualized data.
Tristan Harris, a Google employee who advocates for ethical design, stated, "Much as a user
might need to exercise willpower, responsibility, and self-control, and that’s great, but we also
have to acknowledge the other side of the street." Outside of his position at the search giant, he
spoke.) Harris informed me that major technology companies employ "100 of the smartest
I feel like one of B. F. Skinner's white Carneaux pigeons when I go online. Those pigeons spent
the most important parts of their lives in boxes, relentlessly pecking Plexiglas fragments. They
did this by assisting Harvard psychologist Skinner in mapping out a set of behavioral principles
that apply, with eerie precision, to the design of digital experiences in the 21st century.
Skinner taught his birds to tap the Plexiglas to get food. In some cases, the pigeons received food
for each peck they made. Skinner established timed intervals between each reward in other
arrangements. The system stopped giving the pigeon treats for, say, 60 seconds after it gave it
food. If the bird pecked again after that time had passed, it would receive a second payment. The
pigeons came close to mastering the timing, but they never quite did. Skinner would change the
time between food availability at random. In one instance, food would be available once more in
60 seconds. It could happen after five seconds, 50 seconds, or 200 seconds the next time.
The pigeons went crazy in these unstable conditions. They'd repeatedly scratch. For 16 hours, a
single pigeon struck the Plexiglas 2.5 times per second. Another person tapped 87,000 times in
14 hours, but only received a reward less than 1% of the time.
So? Here is a straightforward illustration of how modern digital life applies Skinner's pigeon
research. I've chosen a hypothetical scenario: He's a journalist named Michael S. His job requires
him to send and receive emails on a regular basis. He receives an email every 45 minutes on
average. There may be only two minutes between emails at times. Sometimes it takes three
hours. Some of these emails are entertaining, despite the fact that many of them are unimportant
or cause stress. Soon, whenever Michael S has access to the internet, he begins checking his
email inbox every 30 minutes, then every 5 minutes, and occasionally every 2 minutes. Soon, it
becomes a compulsion—the web usage's pecking pigeon.
Should we hold Michael S accountable for wasting countless hours of his life pressing a single
button? We might. He does not have much self-control, and he chose a job where email is used a
lot to communicate.
On the other hand, would we be able to blame Skinner's pigeons if they were confined to a box
and pecked away at their grains and hemp seeds while a pioneering researcher discovered the
flaws in their brains? Who actually controls the entire situation? The birds? Or Skinner, the
original creator of the box?
, By 2015, it will be commonplace to say that the internet is distracting. We casually discuss the
addiction and compulsion of digital life. In the early 2000s, consumers dubbed the first widely
available smartphone the crackberry. In conversation, we use terms normally reserved for
methamphetamine and slot machines to describe fundamental applications and tools like
Facebook, email, Netflix, and Twitter.
Since 1996, just three years after the first mainstream web browser was released, psychologists
have been discussing the possibility of internet addiction. However, no one can agree on a
method for diagnosing internet addiction or whether it even exists. Its prevalence estimates vary
greatly. The internet is clearly useful and does not kill people like heroin. Additionally, it can be
challenging to separate the addictive experience (such as pornography or online gambling) from
the medium (the internet).
In any case, the extremes of these diagnostic categories are common. They don't seem to cover
the full range of experiences that people talk about when they joke about crackberries or get
sucked into Facebook and Tumblr.
However, millions of people frequently interpret the internet in terms of compulsion. Critics
attribute this situation to either individual internet users or the internet itself. Both make little
sense. The experience of using the internet is not predetermined. Protocols and connections make
up this system. A global computer network does not necessitate addictive behaviors in any way.
The smartest statisticians and computer scientists work in technology companies, and their job is
to break your willpower. Should people be blamed for having poor self-control? Yes, up to a
point. Personal accountability is important. However, it is essential to be aware of the fact that
numerous websites and other digital tools have been specifically designed to elicit compulsive
behavior.
The fundamental form of the web that the majority of us use every day is determined by a small
number of businesses. By attracting users' attention and converting it into pageviews and clicks,
many of these businesses earn money. In an effort to capture as much of that attention as they
possibly can, they have staked their futures on methods for forming user habits. In order to entice
customers to use their products, successful businesses form specialized teams and accumulate
vast amounts of individualized data.
Tristan Harris, a Google employee who advocates for ethical design, stated, "Much as a user
might need to exercise willpower, responsibility, and self-control, and that’s great, but we also
have to acknowledge the other side of the street." Outside of his position at the search giant, he
spoke.) Harris informed me that major technology companies employ "100 of the smartest
