Part 1: Through the Eyes of Reamer
As a neurodivergent in recovery, I found Fredric Reamer’s “Social Work Boundaries in the Digital Age” of particular interest. Because of a perfect storm of life circumstances and being neurodivergent, I never learned how to set boundaries. As a kid growing up, I had a difficult time socializing, and that made me the kid to pick on at my school. I learned very quickly how to people-please: Do whatever was necessary for you to like me. That quickly turned into codependency with a side of substance use disorder and a thirteen-year abusive relationship with a narcissist. All because I could not set clear boundaries on how I will and will not allow people to treat me. Fortunately, one of the things I learned in recovery was how to set clear expectations with people. It was the first time I heard the phrase “No is a complete sentence.”
You are probably wondering how this little anecdote ties into boundaries in the digital world. Well, while I may have gotten better with setting boundaries for myself and respecting others, the field of landmines that we call the internet opens up a whole new set of social rules when it comes to social interaction. Reamer’s assessment is, unfortunately, right on the nose. Communicating boundaries is not just a matter of verbalization of what is or is not appropriate interaction. It requires a bit of non-verbal communication as well: tone of voice and body language during the course of any interaction helps to reinforce whether you are doing so professionally or casually. This becomes difficult when communicating via text or email. As noted by Reamer, online communication is, by its nature, less formal, which makes it easier to misinterpret a person’s meaning.
This is a trap I, unfortunately, stumble into quite often. I use sarcasm a lot as a defense mechanism to lighten the mood when a conversation starts getting intense or heated. In person, most of my friends will recognize this because of my body language and exaggerated tone, and the tension is resolved… mostly. Take away the nonverbal communication, and my sarcasm is perceived differently. Because of this, I get nervous with communication mediums like text messaging or email. In fact, one of my line-in-the-sand boundaries is that if a friend needs to discuss something of a serious nature, it must be either on the phone or, ideally, face-to-face. If I had to explain this ethical boundary to a client right now, I would be just as upfront: “To make sure I fully understand you and give you the support you deserve, let’s keep the heavy stuff for our sessions. If you text me about a crisis, I’ll read it, but I won’t reply with clinical advice—I’ll save it so we can unpack it together in person.”
Part 2 — Haidt in the Room with Your Clients
Building on that idea of boundary-setting, let’s look at the digital spaces themselves. Reading Haidt and Rausch’s research on how social media impacts adolescents felt uncomfortably familiar to me as someone with lived experience in addiction recovery. While their focus is on the developing teenage brain, the way platforms like Facebook and Instagram hijack our reward systems translates perfectly to adults trying to stay sober.
In “The Case Against Social Media,” Haidt points out that these platforms operate like slot machines, using intermittent rewards to keep us hooked. I ran face-first into this reality recently during a 30-day social media detox. I honestly expected it to be a breeze. Instead, stepping away from my Facebook feed and YouTube shorts triggered severe restlessness and anxiety that felt exactly like Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome (PAWS). For a recovering addict whose dopamine regulation is already fragile, an algorithm designed to flood the reward center is a massive vulnerability. This is why many treatment centers have rules against residents being on social media or dating apps for the first 30 days.
Where Haidt’s argument gets complicated in addiction services, though, is the social acceptability of the platform. If I pick up a substance, society recognizes the danger immediately. But if I numb out by “doom scrolling” on Facebook for four hours to avoid the fight-or-flight anxiety of political news, it’s just considered “normal” modern behavior. My relapses into scrolling weren’t about chasing a high; they were about escaping discomfort, and I had to dig into my SMART recovery toolbox—using the exact same 5-4-3-2-1 grounding exercises I use for substance cravings—just to manage my digital urges.
Ultimately, Haidt’s evidence proves that we can’t just treat the substance use. As future social workers, we have to actively assess our clients’ digital habits, helping them set the exact same firm boundaries with their devices as they do with their interpersonal relationships.
A note about the use of AI: Gemini was used to create the featured image;
Great post! I really enjoyed reading your perspective and how you connected your personal experiences to the course readings.
I think it’s very important for social workers to ask these kinds of questions during the intake process. A client’s social media use can provide insight into changes in their mood, anxiety, obsessive behaviors, or emotional well-being. These are important factors to consider, especially if someone is experiencing a mental health crisis or emotional breakdown.
Even when people say they’re fine, that isn’t always the case. Some individuals may be struggling deeply while trying to hide what they’re going through. In some situations, changes in a person’s social media activity can reveal warning signs that they may not express during an intake interview. For example, some people post messages expressing hopelessness, saying goodbye, or sharing final thoughts before engaging in dangerous behaviors. While social media should never be the only source of information, it can provide valuable context that helps social workers recognize potential concerns and ensure clients receive the support they need.
When you mention that social workers should assess a client’s social media use, what specific things do you think they should be looking for, and how would that information help guide treatment or support?
So whenever I have an appointment with either my therapist or my psychiatrist, part of my check in involves taking 2 assessments: The GAD-7 (for general anxiety disorder) and PHQ-9 (for depression). It asks me to quantify for the previous 2 weeks how often certain symptoms affected me on a scale of 0 (not at all) to 3 (everyday). If one particular week I show a higher score we talk about what could be causing that. In the same way, I think a screening tool could be created to determine how social media use may have affected the client, or if their using patterns could potentially be a problem. Of course it’s not an ideal solution as, similar to the GAD-7 and PHQ-9, it’s effectiveness assumes the client is giving an honest appraisal, it could provide a good starting point.
As for how that information helps to guide treatment or support, I’ll refer back to Haidt’s Ted Talk. In this scenario, depending on initial screens about social media use, certain treatment recommendations could be made such as not allowing a client being checked in for residential treatment to have a smart phone for the start of treatment or limiting the time they can use a smart phone or computer. I have a friend who runs a sober living community and he has a strict no dating apps policy. Dating apps are a very slippery slope for addicts in recovery, especially for gay males. For some it was their primary way of finding venues to get high. For others, rejection on the apps can cause a spiral leading to relapse. If any of the residents are caught with a dating app on their phone, he confiscates the phone and allows them to only be allowed to use flip-phones. These are just a couple of ideas. But, as this is a new frontier in a constant state of flux, it is an area we still need to iron out a standard, evidence-based practice for.