Latest news with #MarissaSharif
The Star
13-07-2025
- The Star
No ‘disliking' on Instagram
EVER wonder why Instagram has no 'dislike' button? You're not alone. Maybe you've asked yourself why it's all hearts, thumbs-up and smiley faces – but never a simple 'your-post-is-no-fun-at-all.' It's not a glitch. It's a design. Welcome to the dark side of digital addiction. In an age where smartphones practically live in our hands, digital addiction is far from hyperbole. It covers everything from endless scrolling on Instagram and compulsively watching YouTube Shorts to binge gaming and obsessively checking notifications. Addictive behaviour isn't new – we've battled gambling, smoking and even coffee dependence – but our flickering digital world makes it worse. Why? Because digital space is always on, always connected and hard to escape. It hijacks our psychology; our brains crave quick dopamine hits, triggered by every buzz, swipe and glowing heart. This constant stimulation is especially harmful for teenagers. Teens are wired to seek novelty and approval, and Big Tech knows exactly how to exploit that. Picture this: You're a 15-year-old faced with algebra homework – tedious, stressful and hardly satisfying. Meanwhile, your phone offers instant relief. Just one more video. Just one more like. That tiny dopamine hit feels irresistible. And here lies the sinister brilliance of digital addiction: It offers a fast escape from discomfort while dulling the brain's ability to regulate impulses. The result? A vicious cycle of compulsive escape. This isn't just a personal failing – it's a structural problem, engineered into the very platforms we use. Which brings us back to the original question: Why no dislike button on Instagram? Facebook (now Meta), Instagram's parent company, uses behavioural psychology to maximise engagement. Negative feedback causes discomfort. Discomfort drives people away. And that's bad for business. So, no public 'dislike' button. Instagram has reportedly tested a private 'downvote' for comments – but let's be honest, that does little to address the deeper problem of addiction by design. Research by Kaitlin Woolley and Marissa Sharif in Harvard Business Review explains why these designs are so effective. Watching several short videos in a row increases the urge to keep watching. Labelling content as 'similar' drives up engagement. And uninterrupted viewing? Even more addictive. These patterns increase what psychologists call 'cognitive accessibility' – our brains find the content easier to process, making it feel more rewarding. Platforms exploit this by feeding us seamless flows of content designed to keep us watching. It's clear that these features aren't about authentic feedback or real connection. They're 'dark patterns' that trap users – especially teens – in loops of envy, anxiety, validation-seeking and disengagement from reality. But here's the good news: Digital addiction is something we can overcome – if we take it seriously. A study led by Noah Castelo at the University of Alberta found that blocking smartphone internet access for just two weeks significantly improved mental health, well-being and attention span. Why? Because without constant mobile internet, people spent more time socialising in person, exercising and going outdoors. What this means is that reducing constant connectivity can lead to real, measurable psychological benefits. Simple strategies can help: stop watching more than two videos without a break, intentionally choose unrelated content and use timers or reminders to break the binge. Small actions can go a long way. Historically, we've regulated addictive substances and behaviours – tobacco, gambling, narcotics – because willpower alone wasn't enough. The same goes for digital addiction. We need institutional we let tools like ChatGPT do the thinking, we risk turning off the very parts of our brain that make us human. But digital addiction – precisely because it's manageable – is the fight we can take on now, especially for teenagers, whose minds are still under construction. So, dear tech billionaires: You've made your billions, changed the world and redefined connection. Isn't that enough? Maybe it's time to curb the greed and rethink the design choices that keep us hooked. Do it for humanity. Do it for the future. Or at the very least – do it for your own kids. A note to myself: Let's stop blindly clicking (and counting) hearts and start confronting the reality behind the glowing screen. Look out the window – the sun, the clouds, the trees, even the people on the street. They're just as fleeting as a TikTok video, but far more real. And the best part? You'll never get addicted to them. — The Korea Herald/ANN Lim Woong is a professor at the Graduate School of Education at Yonsei University in Seoul.
![[Lim Woong] Instagram's missing ‘dislike' button](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwimg.heraldcorp.com%2Fnews%2Fcms%2F2025%2F07%2F07%2Fnews-p.v1.20250707.f693cad2c93b4aaa9eb1f4b9f261d46a_T1.jpg&w=3840&q=100)
![[Lim Woong] Instagram's missing ‘dislike' button](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fall-logos-bucket.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fkoreaherald.com.png&w=48&q=75){kind=small}
Korea Herald
07-07-2025
- Korea Herald
[Lim Woong] Instagram's missing ‘dislike' button
Ever wonder why Instagram has no 'dislike' button? You're not alone. Maybe you've asked yourself why it's all hearts, thumbs-up and smiley faces — but never a simple 'your-post-is-no-fun-at-all.' It's not a glitch. It's a design. Welcome to the dark side of digital addiction. In an age where smartphones practically live in our hands, digital addiction is far from hyperbole. It covers everything from endless scrolling on Instagram and compulsively watching YouTube Shorts to binge gaming and obsessively checking notifications. Addictive behavior isn't new — we've battled gambling, smoking and even coffee dependence — but our flickering digital world makes it worse. Why? Because digital space is always on, always connected and hard to escape. It hijacks our psychology; our brains crave quick dopamine hits, triggered by every buzz, swipe and glowing heart. This constant stimulation is especially harmful for teenagers. Adolescence is a time of major brain construction, especially in areas like impulse control, decision-making and delayed gratification — all functions governed by the prefrontal cortex. During this period, the limbic system — which drives emotion and reward-seeking — often develops faster than the cortical areas responsible for regulation, creating a neurological imbalance that makes teens more susceptible to impulsive behavior. That fragile system is easily overwhelmed by dopamine-spiking digital temptations. Teens are wired to seek novelty and approval, and Big Tech knows exactly how to exploit that. Picture this: You're a 15-year-old faced with algebra homework — tedious, stressful and hardly satisfying. Meanwhile, your phone offers instant relief. Just one more video. Just one more like. That tiny dopamine hit feels irresistible. And here lies the sinister brilliance of digital addiction: It offers a fast escape from discomfort while dulling the brain's ability to regulate impulses. The result? A vicious cycle of compulsive escape. This isn't just a personal failing — it's a structural problem, engineered into the very platforms we use. Which brings us back to the original question: Why no dislike button on Instagram? Facebook (now Meta), Instagram's parent company, uses behavioral psychology to maximize engagement. Negative feedback causes discomfort. Discomfort drives people away. And that's bad for business. So, no public 'dislike' button. Instagram has reportedly tested a private 'downvote' for comments — but let's be honest, that does little to address the deeper problem of addiction by design. Research by Kaitlin Woolley and Marissa Sharif in Harvard Business Review explains why these designs are so effective. Watching several short videos in a row increases the urge to keep watching. Labeling content as 'similar' drives up engagement. And uninterrupted viewing? Even more addictive. These patterns increase what psychologists call 'cognitive accessibility' — our brains find the content easier to process, making it feel more rewarding. Platforms exploit this by feeding us seamless flows of content designed to keep us watching. It's clear that these features aren't about authentic feedback or real connection. They're 'dark patterns' that trap users — especially teens — in loops of envy, anxiety, validation-seeking and disengagement from reality. But here's the good news: Digital addiction is something we can overcome — if we take it seriously. A study led by Noah Castelo at the University of Alberta found that blocking smartphone internet access for just two weeks significantly improved mental health, well-being and attention span. Why? Because without constant mobile internet, people spent more time socializing in person, exercising and going outdoors. What this means is that reducing constant connectivity can lead to real, measurable psychological benefits. Simple strategies can help: stop watching more than two videos without a break, intentionally choose unrelated content and use timers or reminders to break the binge. Small actions can go a long way. Historically, we've regulated addictive substances and behaviors — tobacco, gambling, narcotics — because willpower alone wasn't enough. The same goes for digital addiction. We need institutional action. Schools should consider phone-free zones and digital literacy education, even in the face of protests about 'student rights' or hypothetical emergencies. And if school shootings are being used to justify unrestricted smartphone access in classrooms, then we face a much deeper societal crisis. Thank God, we're not there yet. When we let tools like ChatGPT do the thinking, we risk turning off the very parts of our brain that make us human. But digital addiction — precisely because it's manageable — is the fight we can take on now, especially for teenagers, whose minds are still under construction. So, dear tech billionaires: You've made your billions, changed the world and redefined connection. Isn't that enough? Maybe it's time to curb the greed and rethink the design choices that keep us hooked. Do it for humanity. Do it for the future. Or at the very least — do it for your own kids. A note to myself: Let's stop blindly clicking (and counting) hearts and start confronting the reality behind the glowing screen. Look out the window — the sun, the clouds, the trees, even the people on the street. They're just as fleeting as a TikTok video, but far more real. And the best part? You'll never get addicted to them.
