We are looking at an overview, from an attorney, of a class-action lawsuit where the plaintiffs are parents, along with their teenage daughters and sons, and even their younger children. The compensation they seek is for damages including depression, seizures, internet gaming disorder… wait, what?

This is where the questions begin, and one of them is, “What are we talking about, here, anyway?” Depression can be observed and measured. Seizures either occur or they don’t, and when they do, their presence is starkly characteristic. Opiod addiction is apparent if a junkie is locked up or his supply chain is interrupted, as both vital signs and physical pain, not to mention mental and emotional anguish, go through the roof.

And then, demanding a place in the lineup, claiming to be a color on the palette of damage, there is internet gaming disorder, which hardly seems to belong in quite the same category.

Yes, addiction can cause seizures, depression, and other mental and physical health issues, as charged, and also as demonstrated throughout the centuries. But “internet gaming disorder”? Not much will be found about that in centuries of medical literature, because it’s a brand new disorder. Yet, we will probably hear a great deal more about it in the future, even when it, like so many other societal problems, becomes boringly old.

Many companies — which will not be named here because they don’t need the free publicity — are up against the wall.

The accusation is that they have not properly disclosed some facts about their video games; namely, the potentially dangerous side effects. Furthermore, these entrepreneurs are accused of purposely devising their games to be not just baseline seductive, which is bad enough, but to morph into increasingly addictive traps.

A short digression: Someone unfamiliar with human perversity might say, “Really?” One basic question asked by an anthropologist visiting from another planet might be, “But isn’t ‘addictive’ good? Doesn’t that word imply praise and satisfaction?” Because if not, someone ought to tell the manufacturers who proudly brand their own products, from A to Z, as addictive.

Someone ought to order the ad agencies to withdraw that word from their vocabulary. Stop quoting ecstatic customers who post reviews that describe various brands of perfume, munchies, pillows, brassieres, soft drinks, noise-cancelling headphones, and so forth, as addictive.

Many people think it is charming to describe themselves as addicted to their pets. To body-builder podcast bros, “iron addiction” signifies a passion for exercising with heavy weights. As a concept, “addictive” is all over the map. But what is to be gained from devaluing, and some might say, trivializing, such a potent and fearsome word?

Or — and here is the worst-case scenario — are the alarmists correct to predict that video game addiction is capable of growing into an apocalyptic problem that will, far into the foreseeable future, warp society in unforeseen, incurable ways?

The attorney mentioned above, Robert King, includes in this article an explanation from Licensed Clinical Social Worker Andrew Fishman of how some games affect some kids by generating a destructive synergy that can take over their lives and throw their parents into despair. Admittedly, a couple of his points are difficult to grasp. He says, “many of them […] offer free versions that allow anyone to play,” and just offhand, that does not seem like such a bad thing.

Also, many such games are said to “have no endpoints or goal posts.” Which also sounds a bit peevish. Couldn’t an activity be fun, even without an endpoint or goal post? Maybe there does not even always need to be a winner or loser. Some grownups who came up in the 60s might be scratching their gray heads in puzzlement. Obligingly, a psychological explanation is offered, and we look forward to exploring it next time.

Written by Pat Hartman. First published September 12, 2025.

Source:

“Video Game Addiction Lawsuit Overview,” Robert King Law Firm, September 3, 2025.

Image Copyright: Alexas Fotos/Pixabay.