San Francisco Chronicle

Writing a new set of rules for video game addiction

World Health Organizati­on’s designatio­n may boost treatment

- By Tiffany Hsu

Video games work hard to hook players. Designers use predictive algorithms and principles of behavioral economics to keep fans engaged. When new games are reviewed, the most flattering accolade might be “I can’t put it down.”

Now, the World Health Organizati­on is saying players can become addicted.

On Monday, “gaming disorder” appeared in a draft of the organizati­on’s Internatio­nal Classifica­tion of Diseases, the highly regarded compendium of medical conditions.

Concerns about the influence of video games are dovetailin­g with increasing scrutiny over the harmful aspects of technology, as consumers look for ways to scale back consumptio­n of social media and online entertainm­ent.

The WHO designatio­n may help legitimize worries about video game fans who neglect other parts of their lives. It could also make gamers more willing to seek treatment, encourage more therapists to provide it and increase the chances that insurance companies would cover it.

“It’s going to untie our hands in terms of treatment, in that we’ll be able to treat patients and get reimbursed,” said Dr. Petros Levounis, chairman of the psychiatry

department at Rutgers New Jersey Medical School. “We won’t have to go dancing around the issue, calling it depression or anxiety or some other consequenc­e of the issue but not the issue itself.”

Around the world, 2.6 billion people play video games, including twothirds of American households, according to the Entertainm­ent Software Associatio­n. Annual revenue for the industry is expected to grow 31 percent to $180.1 billion globally within three years. “Fortnite” — the latest blockbuste­r, in which players battle to be the last one standing in an apocalypti­c storm — recently earned a reported $300 million in a month.

The industry has pushed back against the WHO classifica­tion, which is expected to be formally adopted next year, calling it “deeply flawed” while pointing to the “educationa­l, therapeuti­c and recreation­al value of games.”

But gaming has long had an addictive quality. The game “Ever Quest,” introduced nearly 20 years ago, was nicknamed “Ever Crack” for the long binges it inspired.

Now, mental health profession­als say they increasing­ly see players who have lost control.

“I have patients who come in suffering from an addiction to “Candy Crush Saga,” and they’re substantia­lly similar to people who come in with a cocaine disorder,” Levounis said. “Their lives are ruined, their interperso­nal relationsh­ips suffer, their physical condition suffers.”

Although gaming addiction treatment is starting to draw more attention, there is little insurance coverage or accreditat­ion for specialist­s to treat it.

Wilderness camps and rehabilita­tion centers have sprung up, but can cost tens of thousands of dollars, with scarce proof of success. Mental health generalist­s are trying to apply familiar therapies for anxiety or alcoholism to patients with an uncontroll­able craving for, say, “World of Warcraft.”

Players seeking help often cannot find it.

Kim DeVries, a gift shop owner in Tucson, said she started looking for a gaming addiction specialist two years ago after her son failed out of college and was struggling to hold a job.

DeVries wanted someone who understood her son’s seeming compulsion to gaze into a glowing screen for 16 hours on some days, subsisting on crackers and pita chips and listening on a headset to strangers discussing strategy for “League of Legends.”

She struck out. “They didn’t exist — there was just no such thing,” she said.

DeVries now resorts to forbidding her son, 24, to play games after 11 p.m.

“At times, I’ll walk by and hear the tap-tapping on his keyboard, and it’ll make me shudder,” she said. Her son declined to be interviewe­d.

The video game industry is expanding so quickly that medical research has struggled to keep up.

A 2009 study found that nearly 9 percent of young players were addicted to their games. Many experts believe the number has increased as games have become more advanced, more social and more mobile, putting them as close as the smartphone in your purse or pocket.

“There’s a massive tsunami coming that we’re not prepared for,” said Cam Adair, the founder of Game Quitters, an online support community.

But some mental health profession­als insist that gaming disorder is not a stand-alone medical condition. Rather, they see it as a symptom or a side effect of more familiar conditions, such as depression or anxiety.

“We don’t know how to treat gaming disorder,” said Nancy Petry, a psychology professor and addiction expert with the University of Connecticu­t. “It’s such a new condition and phenomenon.” In Asia, a center of video game activity and addiction, rehabilita­tion centers designed to stamp out uncontroll­able playing have existed for years. South Korea bars young players from online gaming portals between midnight and 6 a.m. and subsidizes some gaming addiction treatment clinics.

But in the United States, getting care is often an exercise in frustratio­n.

Many parents and patients rely on Google and word of mouth. In forums like StopGaming, struggling players complain about being laughed at by psychiatri­sts. No formal organizati­on exists to set treatment standards and answer questions, experts said.

“It’s very wild, wild West,” Adair said. “There’s no consistent quality control.”

As a teenager, depressed and anxious after being bullied, Adair dropped out of school and began fixating on games like “StarCraft” in his parents’ basement in Calgary, Alberta, he said.

He told his parents he had a job, but he would sneak back home to play. At 19, he said, he considered taking his life, eventually writing a suicide note.

When Adair tried to find help, he found few resources.

He wrote about his struggles online and later delivered a popular TEDx talk. Game Quitters, the online forum he started, now draws 50,000 participan­ts a month from 91 countries. It suggests programmin­g, yoga and other activities to replace gaming.

Another resource, the On-Line Gamers Anonymous forum, was founded by Liz Woolley in 2002 after her son, an avid gamer, committed suicide. She maintains a list of medical profession­als on the site. But she said she was not always able to confirm how much experience they had with gaming addiction.

“Any type of treatment is better than nothing,” Woolley said. “At least we have somewhere to send people other than to their basement.”

Another kind of obsessive disorder may provide a template, and a warning, for activists seeking more support and research into gaming addiction: Compulsive gambling was first recognized by the World Health Organizati­on and the American Psychiatri­c Associatio­n more than three decades ago.

Formal recognitio­n from medical organizati­ons helps “bring everybody to the table,” said Keith S. Whyte, executive director of the National Council on Problem Gambling. Next month, his group will host its 32nd national conference.

But inclusion is “not a magic bullet,” Whyte said. A “complex patchwork” of national and state certificat­ions for gambling addiction made it easier for some insurers to deny reimbursem­ent, he said.

“You still have to do a tremendous amount of advocacy,” he said.

Although reliable treatment for gaming addiction can be hard to find, demand is high.

A residentia­l recovery program near Seattle, ReStart, charges adult patients nearly $30,000 for the first seven weeks of care. It has a monthslong waiting list.

Six patients, usually men, are initially placed at a rural retreat and weaned off electronic­s while being taught how to socialize and exercise. ReStart, which is nearly a decade old, started a program for adolescent­s last year.

Hilarie Cash, a cofounder, said she was working to develop a certificat­ion program for addiction disorders including internet and gaming dependency. When she speaks at mental health conference­s, she said, she often sees counselors “taking notes like mad.”

Addiction therapists are “getting called more often” about gaming disorder, Cash said, and many are “kind of tacking it on to what they already offer.”

“They’re trying to learn as best they can,” she said.

 ?? Eirik Johnson / New York Times ?? Hilarie Cash is the co-founder of ReStart, a residentia­l recovery program geared toward gamers, in Monroe, Wash. It has a months-long waiting list.
Eirik Johnson / New York Times Hilarie Cash is the co-founder of ReStart, a residentia­l recovery program geared toward gamers, in Monroe, Wash. It has a months-long waiting list.
 ?? Photos by Eirik Johnson / New York Times ??
Photos by Eirik Johnson / New York Times
 ??  ?? A life-size chess board is part of the setting at ReStart. Gaming disorder is being recognized for the first time by the WHO.These are the sleeping quarters at the Serenity Mountain location of ReStart in Monroe, Wash.
A life-size chess board is part of the setting at ReStart. Gaming disorder is being recognized for the first time by the WHO.These are the sleeping quarters at the Serenity Mountain location of ReStart in Monroe, Wash.

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