Boot Camp cure for Web Obsession

Martin Fackler, November 18th, 2007, From the New York Times

The boot camp, part rehab centre, resembles programs around the world for troubled youths. Drill instructors drive young men through military-style obstacle courses, counsellors lead group sessions, and there are even therapeutic workshops on pottery and drumming. Lee Chang-Hoon, 15, runs an obstacle course at the "Internet Rescue School". He spent almost all of his time online before his mother sent him to the camp. “Seventeen hours a day online is fine,” he said at the camp. These young people have severe cases of what many in this country believe is a new and potentially deadly addiction: cyberspace. South Korea is one of the most wired nations on earth: 90% of homes connect to cheap, high-speed broadband; and online gaming is now a professional sport. But such ready access to the Web has come at a price as legions of obsessed users find that they cannot tear themselves away from their computer screens. Compulsive Internet use has been identified as a mental health issue in Korea, and has become a national issue in recent years, as users started dropping dead from exhaustion after playing online games for days on end. "Up to 30% of South Koreans under 18, or about 2.4 million people, are at risk of Internet addiction", said a child psychiatrist at a Seoul University. Up to a quarter million probably show signs of actual addiction, like rising levels of tolerance that drive them to seek ever longer sessions online or withdrawal symptoms like anger and craving when prevented from logging on.

The rescue camp, in a forested area about an hour south of Seoul, was created to treat the most severe cases. The camp is entirely paid for by the government, making it tuition-free. During a session, participants live at the camp, where they are denied computer use and allowed only one hour of cell phone calls a day, to prevent them from playing online games via the phone. They also follow a rigorous regimen of physical exercise and group activities, aimed at building emotional connections to the real world and weakening those with the virtual one. The campers are under constant surveillance, including while asleep, and are kept busy with chores, like washing their clothes and cleaning their rooms.

Lee Chang-Hoon, 15, began using the computer to pass the time while he was home alone. He said he quickly came to prefer the virtual world, where he seemed to enjoy more success and popularity than in the real one. He spent 17 hours a day online, mostly playing games, and skipped school two or three times a week to catch up on sleep. Desperate, his mother sent him to the camp. "I don’t have a problem," Chang-hoon said in an interview three days after starting the camp. "Seventeen hours a day online is fine." But later that day, he seemed to start changing his mind, if only slightly. As a drill instructor barked orders, Chang-hoon marched through a cold autumn rain to the obstacle course. Chang-hoon began climbing the first obstacle, a telephone pole with small metal rings. At the top, he slowly stood up, legs quaking. Below, the other boys held a safety rope attached to a harness on his chest. "Jump!" ordered the instructor. Chang-hoon squatted and leapt to a nearby trapeze.
After Chang-hoon descended, he said, "That was better than games! From now on, maybe I’ll just spend five hours a day online."

Was it thrilling enough to wean him from the Internet?