ver the years, I have become more than a little annoyed with the claim that something is an addiction.  Here is why.  How is it there are never any good addictions?  Gambling is said to be an addiction, playing computer games, watching pornography, having sex, and even road rage.  All of these so-called addictions either cause harm to other individuals or harm to oneself.  The thought, I suppose, is that no one would knowingly harm himself or a complete stranger unless he is either a madman or addicted to the behavior in question. 

The problem with that line of argument is that indifference to one’s own well-being, which is surely harmful, has to be declared an addiction, which is just sheer lunacy. 

But I asked a question at the outset, namely: How is that there are never any good addictions?  Well, when the paradigm examples of addiction were alcohol and drugs, it was rather clear why there were never any good addictions.  That is because, in laymen’s terms, these items are known to bring about a genuine chemical dependency.   This is precisely why extending the idea of addiction to pornography and computer games and road rage is problematic.  A chemical dependency is one thing; wanting something ever so badly is quite another. 

In giving American women chocolates from Paris, I have seen them respond in ways that almost make me blush.  But it would not occur to either them or me to think they are addicted to such chocolates.  And insofar as I can grasp their reaction to French chocolates, I must confess that I experience something very close, or so it seems to me, when I eat a certain brand of butter pecan ice cream.  And I will eat it if it is there.  But am I addicted to it?  I think not. 

But if playing video games and road rage and gambling can all be addictions, then surely there ought to be good addictions.  There ought to be random acts of kindness committed by people who some how just cannot help themselves.  There ought to be instances that go rather like this: “I don’t know what the hell has happened to me.  But I have just got to give that person over there, whom I do not even know, $100. 

Or, every now then someone should come home only to find the grass cut and the bushes trimmed, with a note left that reads roughly as follows: “Sorry, I hope I did not offend you.  But before I realized what was happening, I found myself attending to your lawn and I could not stop myself”. 

I mean if road rage is an addiction, then surely there are no limits to what can count for an addiction. 

Sex is unbelievably appealing and it may play a multitude of roles in our lives.  But an addiction it is not an addiction.  If it were, then we would expect it to manifest in rather repulsive ways and the excuse would be: it is an addiction.  I hate to say this for fear that I may give someone an idea.  But if sex really were an addiction, then rape might admit of an excusing condition—at least to some degree.  No one thinks that; and that fact reveals that we have considerable control over our acting upon our sexual desires, however intense they may be. 

But if sex and road rage and computer games were all genuine addictions, then the very idea of random acts of kindness would take on an entirely different meaning.  Indeed, sometimes a person would have to hide her or himself from others for fear that she or he might spend more money helping others than he has.  There would be a new explanation for people charging their credit cards to the maximum: “I just can’t stop myself from helping others”. 

How odd it is that even over spending or shopping are characterized as addictions, yet it always turns out that people over spend only on themselves.  I mean the regret would be pretty much the same whether one over spends on oneself or another, especially since people rarely overspend buying things that they need in order to live.  Most credit card debt comes from buying frills: not only things that a person does not need, but things that a person will not put to regular use. 

My argument, then, is quite simple.  It is actually rather elegant.  Either (i) the idea of an addiction conforms to our model of drugs and alcohol as paradigm examples where we have a chemical dependency or (ii) the idea of an addiction is extended to such things as road rage or watching pornography or playing video games or shopping.  If (ii) were true, then (iii) there would in general be random acts of kindness with people exclaiming that they cannot help themselves as they put themselves out to help others. 

But we know that (iii) is simply false.  There are, to be sure, acts kindness throughout the world.  But nothing that comes close to resembling the “I can’t help myself” mentality—at least as that expression is meant.  When people say things like “I would not be able to live with myself if I did not do such-and-such on behalf of this or that person”, we understand that to be merely a manner of speaking.  We do not think for a moment that the person has a problem controlling her behavior. 

At any rate, if (iii) is false, then (ii) is false.  And that leaves us with (i) as true.  Our argument, then, that most so-called addiction—road rage, playing video games, shopping, and the like—are not properly considered addictions takes the form of a simple argument:

(P or Q) & not-̴Q
_____
Therefore P

One can, of course, quibble with my claim that (ii) entails (iii).  However, I see no good reason whatsoever to think that it does not, given what is called an addiction these days. 

Fortunately, the argument I have presented does not preclude the possibility of random acts of kindness.  All of us have friends and loved-ones.  Do we need a special day to show them kindness?  I hope not.  On any given day, we can wake up with, and act upon, the thought of doing something nice for those individuals. 

Helping a stranger can be more difficult.  But there are many ways that we can do even that.  This afternoon not only did I open the door for an elderly lady, I then extended my hand to help her as she struggled with the very high step at the door’s entrance.  I did not save her life or put food on her table or clothes on her back.  But my gesture was unanticipated.  And the delight that my gesture brought to her eyes was memorable. 

My small act of kindness in this instance was rather random.  It was not something that I was thinking about doing.  It all sort of just happened on the spur of the moment.  And it all happened without my being addicted to anything.  Whenever I see such an act of kindness in others, it is unmistakably clear to me: That is kindness as it should be.

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