Elias Aboujaoude (b. 1971) published Virtually You: The Dangerous Powers of the E-Personality in 2011, when Facebook had 600 million users, the iPad was a year old, and the phrase “smart phone” still took a space in the middle. He was then, as now, a Stanford psychiatrist running the OCD and impulse control clinics. The book argues that going online builds a second self. He calls it the e-personality and gives it five traits: grandiosity, narcissism, ordinary everyday viciousness, impulsivity, and infantile regression. The traits form under the conditions John Suler named the online disinhibition effect, which include anonymity, invisibility, and the collapse of hierarchy. Then comes the claim that carries the book: these traits migrate. What you become in a browser window follows you out of it. “Our offline persona increasingly resembles that of our avatar,” he writes.
That claim has been tested. Alexander Bor and Michael Bang Petersen at Aarhus formalized it as the mismatch hypothesis and ran it into the ground across eight studies with 8,434 subjects, publishing “The Psychology of Online Political Hostility” in the American Political Science Review. They found almost nothing. People are not more hostile online than off. Hostile political talk online comes from status-driven people who talk that way in person too, and who seek out political argument in both places. The hostility gap exists because such people are more visible online. Their alternative account is a connectivity story: online environments change what a given motive can accomplish and who sees it happen. Selection and visibility explain the phenomenon Aboujaoude built a personality theory on.
The narcissism chapter rests on Jean Twenge (b. 1971) and the cross-temporal meta-analyses showing rising Narcissistic Personality Inventory scores in college cohorts. Eunike Wetzel and colleagues, including Brent Roberts and Richard Robins, went back to that literature in 2017 with three cohorts and about 60,000 students and did the measurement invariance test nobody had run. Narcissism declines from the 1990s to the 2010s, d = -0.27, with the entitlement facet falling too. Roberts put it bluntly to the press: there never was a narcissism epidemic. The paper is titled “The Narcissism Epidemic Is Dead; Long Live the Narcissism Epidemic,” and the second half of the title is a joke about how hard the idea is to kill.
The memory chapter leans on Betsy Sparrow, Jenny Liu, and Daniel Wegner (1948-2013), whose “Google Effects on Memory” appeared in Science the same year the book did. Colin Camerer’s Social Sciences Replication Project tried Experiment 1 in 2018 and failed. A later independent attempt found no conclusive evidence that hard trivia questions prime people to think about computers. The broader transactive memory finding survives in weakened form.
You could say “smaller and more conditional” about every famous academic claim in the past 100 years, with a few exceptions. Smoking and lung cancer got larger with better data. So did lead and blood pressure and childhood exposure. Those studies had big signals, hard outcomes, and no room for the researcher to choose among forty ways of measuring the dependent variable. Media effects research has small signals, soft self-report outcomes, and enormous measurement flexibility.
The distraction argument runs through Eyal Ophir, Clifford Nass (1958-2013), and Anthony Wagner on media multitaskers. Wisnu Wiradhany and Mark Nieuwenstein ran two replications and a meta-analysis in 2017 and got d = 0.17, small and in the right direction. Douglas Parry and Daniel le Roux revisited the whole literature ten years on and found the same modest picture. The book also stakes the addiction argument partly on a 1998 PET study of dopamine release during a video game. That study had eight men in it.
So the supports go soft. What holds?
The illusion of knowledge chapter holds. Four years after the book, Matthew Fisher, Mariel Goddu, and Frank Keil published “Searching for Explanations: How the Internet Inflates Estimates of Internal Knowledge” in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: General. Nine experiments. People who search the web rate their ability to explain unrelated things higher than people given the same text without searching. The effect survives when you control time, content, and search autonomy. It survives failed searches. Subjects even predicted more activity in pictures of their own brains. Aboujaoude called it romantic and cognitive illiteracy and got there by intuition; Yale got there by design.
The reading argument holds in reduced form. Meta-analyses by Pablo Delgado, Virginia Clinton, and Ladislao Salmerón converge on a screen inferiority effect for comprehension that is small, strongest for expository text, worse under time pressure, and worse when the reader has to scroll. Lidia Altamura and colleagues put leisure digital reading habits against comprehension across 469,564 participants and found r = .055, far below the medium-sized effect print reading habits produce. The medium does something. It does less than Nicholas Carr (b. 1959) claimed and less than the book implies.
Then there is the chapter on internet addiction, the most careful in the book, and the one whose afterlife is the most interesting thing about it. Aboujaoude reports his own telephone survey of 2,513 adults, published in CNS Spectrums in 2006, which found that between 4 and 14 percent of Americans showed some marker of problematic internet use, with 14 percent unable to stay offline for several days. He notes the reviewer who rejected the paper with the line about microwave abuse and ChapStick addiction. He is fair to the skeptics, quotes Michael Craig Miller’s electronic needle argument, and declines to demand a DSM entry.
The field went the other way. The World Health Organization put gaming disorder in ICD-11. The DSM-5 kept internet gaming disorder as a condition for further study, and DSM-5-TR left it there. Prevalence estimates then did what prevalence estimates do when the construct is loose: a 2024 meta-analysis of DSM-5 and ICD-11 studies pooled at 6.7 percent, a 2025 meta-analysis of young adults landed at 6.1 percent across 149,601 people, and a large Swiss sample this year came in alongside a running argument that criteria like tolerance, deception, and gaming to escape manufacture false positives. Problematic smartphone use has been estimated at 37 percent in one meta-analysis of 109 studies and under 1 percent in another.
The lower figure is Aboujaoude’s. In “Problematic smartphone use in a representative sample of US adults,” published in Addictive Behaviors with Lucien Rochat, Germano Vera Cruz, and Yasser Khazaal, he is senior author on a paper reporting prevalence of 0.75 to 1.2 percent once you require functional impairment. The paper says the results highlight the need for an impairment criterion if we are to avoid pathologizing a ubiquitous behavior that has come to define contemporary life. That sentence retires most of the alarm in his own book, and he wrote it. A man revising his estimate downward by an order of magnitude in a peer-reviewed journal, twenty years after making his name on the higher number, is doing the thing scientists are supposed to do and rarely do.
Where does that leave the harm question? The best causal evidence is quasi-experimental and experimental, and it points to real effects that are small. Luca Braghieri, Ro’ee Levy, and Alexey Makarin exploited Facebook’s staggered college rollout in the American Economic Review and found worsened student mental health, with the severe depression effect around 0.07 standard deviations, driven by unfavorable social comparison. Hunt Allcott, Matthew Gentzkow and a large team randomized about 35,000 users to deactivate Facebook or Instagram for six weeks before the 2020 election. Emotional state improved by 0.060 standard deviations for Facebook and 0.041 for Instagram, and political attitudes, polarization, and belief in fraud claims barely moved. Amy Orben and Andrew Przybylski’s specification curve work put adolescent digital technology use in the same neighborhood as eating potatoes. The National Academies reviewed the youth literature in 2024 and concluded the evidence was insufficient to say social media causes changes in adolescent health at the population level, while documenting real harm to individual teens. Luisa Fassi, Tamsin Ford, and Orben have since pushed into clinical samples, where the general-population averages hide the people who most need studying.
Jonathan Haidt (b. 1963) built a policy movement on the stronger reading and has been answered at length, most recently by Liam Sigaud, Zachary Rausch, Alec McClean and Haidt attacking the Vuorre and Przybylski papers in Clinical Psychological Science, with Candice Odgers, Sonia Livingstone, Patti Valkenburg and Christopher Ferguson pressing from the other side. Legislation ran ahead of all of it. Australia banned social media accounts for under-16s on December 10, 2025. By March, the eSafety Commissioner found that more than eight in ten under-16s were still using the platforms, most at the same frequency as before, and a British Medical Journal study in June found little evidence of reduced access. Meta has been ordered to pay close to a billion dollars in US jury verdicts this year. Reviews of school phone bans report limited and inconsistent effects on attainment, no consistent effect on bullying, and some increase in anxiety among students separated from their phones. The gap between a 0.06 standard deviation effect and a national prohibition is where we now live.
On romance the book has aged into its own irony. Aboujaoude opens the chapter with a man who leaves his fiancée for a Second Life avatar. Michael Rosenfeld, Reuben Thomas, and Sonia Hausen showed in PNAS that meeting online became the most common way American heterosexual couples meet around 2013, passing friends, and that it displaced the friend and family brokers who used to run the market. Outcomes are contested and the disagreements are small: John Cacioppo found slightly higher marital satisfaction for couples who met online, Rosenfeld found no difference in duration, Liesel Sharabi and Elizabeth Dorrance Hall found modestly worse satisfaction and stability mediated by marginalization and distance, and a 2025 study across fifty countries found lower satisfaction and love among couples who met online. The extreme case turned out to be an extreme case, and the ordinary case became the whole marriage market.
Aboujaoude has moved on to the obvious successor. He now runs the Program in Internet, Health and Society at Cedars-Sinai and chairs the anxiety section at Stanford, and this year he and Ashley Golden published “A transdiagnostic model for how general purpose AI chatbots can perpetuate OCD and anxiety disorders” in npj Digital Medicine. The argument is that chatbots feed intolerance of uncertainty and need-to-know compulsions, reinforcing avoidance and blocking corrective learning. He offers the patient who once spent four hours planning a business trip and now spends twelve, because the reassurance never runs out. The evidence base is clinical observation plus early survey work, which is where he stood in 2011.
The parallel research is arriving. Cathy Fang and colleagues at MIT Media Lab ran a four-week randomized trial with 981 participants and over 300,000 messages, and reported that higher daily use tracked with more loneliness, more emotional dependence, and less socializing, with voice modality helping at low use and losing that advantage at high use. Nataliya Kosmyna’s EEG study of essay writing with an LLM found weaker neural connectivity, weaker sense of ownership, and subjects who could not quote work they had produced days earlier. It has 54 subjects, 18 in the final session, and has not passed peer review. Michael Gerlich’s survey work links heavy AI use to reduced critical thinking through cognitive offloading, and finds the effect depends on how people prompt. This is 2011 again: a striking small study, a plausible mechanism, and a public ready to generalize.
The lesson of Virtually You is about the relationship between the clinic and the population. Aboujaoude sees the man who lost his job to browsing, the wife who installs keyloggers, the fiancé who leaves for an avatar. Those people exist and someone should write about them. The error is arithmetic. A clinician’s caseload is a sample selected on the outcome, and the traits that fill his waiting room look like emerging norms because he never meets the eighty percent for whom the same technology does nothing measurable. Bor and Petersen’s finding is the correction: the internet recruits and displays, it does not convert. Fifteen years of better instruments produced smaller numbers almost everywhere they were pointed, and the man who published the frightening number in 2006 published the small one in 2024.
