Digital Communication Technologies, The Self And Counselling

Technology is often thought of as a modern phenomenon, involving sophisticated methods to bend raw materials to our will. Technologies, however, have been with us since the invention of tools and ritual. The axe and communal dance were technologies, the axe for material effect and dance for relational effect. The philosopher Martin Heidegger (1977), drawing from the original Greek meaning of ‘techne’ as crafts that reveal possibilities, asserts technology is better thought of as a way of revealing or understanding ourselves and the world. As we create, we are transformed. A technology may cause seismic transformations. Such was the arrival of digital technology in the last decades of the 20th century. Prenksy (2001, p. 1) described it as ‘a singularity’, causing fundamental material and relational changes, with no going back.

Cundy (2015) discusses implications for the development of attachment in infancy if primary caregivers addictively depend on social media for connection and validation, are often distracted, or use mobiles as devices to distract baby. It is true TV has been similarly used for decades by parents, but the addictive nature of accruing social media ‘likes’ too easily creates dopamine addicts, as Walters (2021) and Lembke (2020) argue. In addition, this invisible, ‘seductive other’ that baby may attempt to compete with for attention, is not limited to the living-room.

In the crucial first months of life, base levels of neurohormones are formed through relational processes. Skin-to-skin contact stimulates the production of oxytocin, boosting the immune system. When a primary caregiver is chronically distracted by social media, and neglects to attend to the baby’s need for holding, eye contact and, in general, being affirmed, a child’s sense of self and attachment style will be detrimentally affected (Cundy, 2015, pp. 1–4); (Winnicott, 1965a), later impacting their adult selves.

While some, such as Jones et al. (2014), argue that video gaming in moderation has positive effects, internet gaming disorder is now included in the DSM (5, Section 3). Social media addiction is not, but relevant references abound in the literature, for instance, by Van den Eijnden et al. (2016) and Andreassen et al. (2012). Social network site (SNS) addiction symptoms include depression, cognitive and emotional preoccupation with the SNS, seeking more usage over time, withdrawal symptoms when use is limited, interpersonal and intrapersonal conflict and, often, relapse after abstinence.

Mobiles also aid citizen journalism and connect people in areas where phone lines were never built. We increasingly rely on them, outsourcing our wayfinding capacity, personal data, connections and our ‘captured memory images’ to them. Many studies, such as that by Walsh and White (2007), affirm that young people’s sense of validation and self-identity are entwined with their use of mobile phones, highlighting how ‘digital natives’ vary in their use of and relationship to mobile devices from ‘digital immigrants’, who matured without this influence.

Nicoli (2015) compares the experience of mobile phones to ‘magic wands’, collapsing the distance between desire and satisfaction, allowing us to find information anytime, anywhere. Dating apps offer unlimited access to the pool of single people, eschewing the need to meet challenges that arise in committed relationships. By swiping left or right on Tinder, aptitudes vital for psychological growth – such as reflecting and integrating new experiences, or connecting with the unconscious in daydreams or imaginings – are often eclipsed. It may be true that humanity is more and more at risk of becoming evacuated (Bion, 1962) due to our ‘magic wands’. Even when together, couples can often be seen engaging with their phones rather than each other. The question arises: What is the primary relationship, with device or human?

Weinberger (2014, p. 15) points out DCT negatives are highlighted by academic researchers and parents. Seeking to rebalance this, he focuses on DCT’s benefits for mental and social health. Referring to the discovery of mirror neurons shifting our concept of Homo homini lupus (man is a wolf to man) as aggressive and competitive towards an emphasis on our social brains, cooperation and altruistic behaviour, he asserts the internet helps fulfil our deep need to connect and belong. Further, even if engagement is superficial, it still holds benefits for ‘homorelational’ who desires interaction, exchange of information, and space to express opinions and form relationships. Weinberger debunks the idea the internet is a fraught space, quoting low statistics on bullying or flaming, even for adolescents (Weinberger, 2014, p. 8). Weinberger’s enthusiasm appears almost unlimited, such as his claim that on SNS, social masks need not be worn (Weinberger, 2014, p. 13). This is questionable, particularly in relation to suicidality when people take their lives after appearing happy on Facebook. It is these images that often distract loved ones from the person’s vulnerability.

As well as an impulse to hide depression or suicidality on an SNS, an impulse to reveal has been researched and described as ‘the disinhibition effect’ (Suler, 2004). This may occur due to lack of eye contact, asynchronous communication, dissociative anonymity, invisibility, solipsistic introjection (where another person’s message is experienced like an interior voice), dissociative imagination and minimisation of authority in the online space. Further, online disinhibition may manifest, like other online phenomena, in either a toxic or benign form.

Adverse implications of DCT disinhibition on therapeutic relationships are discussed by Kaluzeviciute (2020). Where once privacy and confidentiality framed the client, therapist and the therapeutic relationship, a disinhibited client using Google searches, between-session text messaging and emails, mobile access or an SNS, may threaten the frame. Kaluzeviciute sees this having the most impact on psychoanalysis, muddying transference, but the porous digital environment can have implications for other therapists and counsellors. How open do we want to be? Is openness helpful to clients? For vulnerable clients who need the reassurance of a Google search, digital openness may work protectively.

Benign disinhibition manifested beautifully during lockdowns when Zoom and other video conferencing apps (VCA) facilitated interaction between isolated persons, families and friends. Loneliness and boredom were punctured by online parties, and by people inserting themselves inventively into images of classic art works, for instance. DCT revealed its spontaneous, creative, therapeutic potential. Since the pandemic lockdowns, public acceptance of online counselling has grown, and become accepted, valued, promoted and used, widening the scope of our profession. When a client occupies their own personal space in therapy, they can feel more open and relaxed, activating benign disinhibition.

Counsellor Trevor Armitage, in a Torrens University Australia video interview, attests to VCAs working for groups of five or six people, as well as for one-on-one therapy, particularly for psychoeducation. In group online psychotherapy, however, when emotions are triggered and body language is obscured, greater challenges arise for a group leader than in a physical space. These challenges can be compounded by needing to monitor the reactions of more than six people, dealing with technical glitches and a therapeutic frame with potentially ‘leaky’ privacy issues.

Gerontechnology is an interdisciplinary field that involves the research and trialling of existing and developing technologies to address the needs of aging and aged adults. The hope and aim for gerontechnology is to be viable and cost-effective for supporting elders in a range of activities. This expanding field includes VR, robots, telemedicine, smartphone apps, video games (VGs) and dedicated software for psychological, social and cognitive engagements and interventions. However, from my research into gerontechnology so far, the role of a counsellor is largely eclipsed or being minimised. Further, in scoping studies such as that of Vailati Ribonis et al. (2020), older adults are often grouped together as a homogenous group. Education, career or cultural experience are not often included in research data. These factors need inclusion, as does user feedback and cultural differences.

Like Headspace, My Circle is an online space where vulnerable young people can feel safe, are able to support each other, benefit from psychoeducation and engage in counsellor moderated discussions on a swathe of ‘edgy’ topics. Dedicated counsellors have a minimal but important role in My Circle. Kids Helpline (kidshelpline.com.au) developed this social media platform for 13 to 25-year-olds. Campbell et al. (2019) describe how qualitative and quantitative feedback coming from both participants and counsellors in the trial process informed site design and participants’ experiences.

In summary, while a plethora of research reveals the negative effects of DCT on culture and the journey of the self through life, a simple fact is that ‘the genie is out of the bottle’ and many clients and counsellors benefit from using face-to-face video technologies and online psychoeducation courses. DCT makes counselling accessible to more people – for example, those who are time or mobility restricted or who live in regional or remote areas. For digital natives and others, developments – such as counselling sessions where the client and therapist don avatar personas in 3D virtual worlds – may have great appeal and bring therapeutic benefits.

Balick (2014) points out that DCT is essentially transferring information, so is neither inherently good nor bad. It is also true that real benefits and dangers confront everyone. The emotional fallout of online bullying in social media, the danger of social media addiction, the implications of posts lasting into digital infinity or being reposted, and the porosity of online confidentiality, come immediately to mind. Considering these and other DCT dangers is vital if we and clients are to stay safe and we are to meet client needs. Counselling in this DCT-saturated world still requires helpful boundaries, trust and rapport, and being aware of power issues. The question becomes: “How do we navigate with and around DCT devices and their offerings, so that our clients and ourselves benefit?”

Digital communication technologies, the self and counselling