WALNUT CREEK, Calif. —Froilan Vicente walks through Southland Mall in Hayward, Calif., his eyes trained sharply on the 3.5-inch diagonal iPhone 4 display screen he's carrying in his hand.
The 22-year-old is oblivious to much around him as he taps on what he calls his "mobile laptop" to check sports scores, send texts, look up movie listings, watch trailers, figure out where to eat and how to get there.
And when asked, on a scale of one to 10, if he thinks he's "addicted" to his phone, he puts himself on the top of the list — a full 10. He knows this because when he once lost his phone for a week, he suffered from what felt like withdrawal symptoms for three days — irritability, worry, panic.
As most of us have witnessed at dinner with friends, in business meetings, even just walking down the street, those tiny screens have an enormous power. For the approximately 72.5 million Americans who own smartphones, according to the technology industry analyst firm comScore Inc., our dependence on smartphones is not just a distraction but an addiction.
"It's crazy in our mind that we could become addicted to a device, but that's what is happening," says David Greenfield, a West Hartford, Conn.-based psychologist and author of "Virtual Addiction: Help for Netheads, Cyberfreaks and Those Who Love Them." "We think we are free and easy and able to make our own decisions, but we are addicted."
Martinez, Calif., resident Rachel Pisarevich, 19, sleeps next to her phone. Terence Johnson of Rodeo, Calif., 22, is "always connected," checking Twitter and Facebook for friends' updates.
That sounds like addiction, says Greenfield, a national expert on the topic of technology dependence. The way the addiction to phones and the Internet works, he says, is determined by what is called a variable ratio reinforcement schedule.
It's like a slot machine. You check the phone or the Internet, and, in an unpredictable fashion, you might see a new photo of a friend's baby or get a text message. Although it is unpredictable, when you do see something new, it stimulates pleasure centers in the brain.
"Essentially, the Internet is addictive in this way," Greenfield says. "There's just no way around it. And all of these devices are addictive, and we as a society haven't really come to grips with that."
The "addiction" can be dangerous, too. Several smartphone users report using their phones while driving, and one says he's run a red light or two while checking his phone. A University of North Texas Health Science Center report says texting while driving claimed more than 16,000 lives from 2001 to 2007.
Debra Barcellos, a Concord, Calif.-based addiction counselor and recovering addict, says she defines addiction as having no other option than to pick up and use to feel good. She says her nephew seems addicted to computer games, as he's become anti-social and withdrawn because of his fondness for them.
"An addict has no choice," she says. "Physically, they cannot feel normal without putting a substance into their bodies."
However, Alana Conner, vice president of content development for the Tech Museum in San Jose and Stanford doctorate psychology graduate, doesn't like to use the word "addiction" when speaking of our fondness for smartphones.
"Do we use them compulsively? Sure," she says. "At the end of the day, smartphones are tethers to people we care about. As people become more mobile and scattered, we miss the people we love. This is a device that allows us to plug into their lives again."
But an addiction? Conner is not convinced.
"It's a powerful metaphor, and I think it conveys a lot of what happens with smartphones," she says. "But as a psychologist, I am concerned with applying that word to things that don't mix."
* Be mindful of your smartphone use.
* Record how much time you use the phone in one day.
* Set limits on your use. Turn off the phone during dinner or when you're driving.
* Set up a "heck with tech" day where you unplug completely.
* Leave the phone in your car when you go out to a restaurant or see a concert.