Many Thais worry about spending too much time glued to their smartphones, but a new perspective is gaining ground: perhaps constant phone use isn’t really about addiction, but a signal of deeper unmet emotional needs. Recent analysis and expert commentary, featured in VegOut Magazine on June 20, 2025, argue that it’s time to reframe our view of digital compulsion—not as a moral failing or clinical addiction, but as a reflection of seven core human needs going unfulfilled in daily life (VegOutMag.com).
For Thais living in a society rapidly digitizing—where even elders in rural provinces are joining Line chat groups, and “phubbing” is the norm at cafes—the topic strikes a deep chord. The National Statistical Office reported in 2024 that over 90% of Thais aged 18-35 consider their mobile phone “essential,” yet more than half also say they wish they could spend “significantly less” time staring at screens (NSO Thailand). This contradiction has led to concerns among parents, teachers, and health professionals, reinforcing global debates about technology “addiction.”
The new research highlights findings from a Dscout study, which found that the typical user taps, swipes, and unlocks their screen over 2,600 times per day—not just out of boredom, but because of an “emotional signal flare.” Through in-depth interviews and coaching insights, specialists have identified seven emotional needs most often substituted by phone use: connection, recognition, novelty, autonomy, comfort, purpose, and progress.
Digital-culture researcher Sherry Turkle, cited in the article, famously observed, “We expect more from technology and less from each other.” This paradox is evident throughout Thai society, from Chiang Rai’s tech-savvy students to Bangkok office workers, seeking pings and notifications as substitutes for authentic social connection. In situations where physical bonds feel thin—like Thai youth whose friends have moved to other provinces, or adults managing long workdays away from family—phones transform into “pocket-sized community centers.”
Experts argue that much of what we seek in our phones can be found elsewhere, if only we learn to recognize these underlying cravings. For instance, “likes,” “hearts,” and stickers on Line offer instant recognition, a powerful motivator in Thai culture, which places high importance on social harmony and acknowledgment. When such recognition is scarce in real life—whether among students, employees, or homemakers—digital applause feels all the more urgent.
But there are practical solutions. Psychologists suggest reviving small “rituals of togetherness”—such as nightly family meals, regular group activities (like communal rice planting or temple volunteering), or even short daily chats with elders—to help satisfy core needs for connection and recognition. As the article notes, “One unrushed chat beats fifty emoji reactions,” a perspective echoed by educators in Thailand who’ve seen both the dangers of digital distraction and the power of meaningful offline interactions.
Another emotional need often overlooked is novelty. Humans crave fresh experiences, and social feeds offer an endless parade of new information, memes, and products. However, mental health professionals warn that doomscrolling rarely leads to true satisfaction and can instead create exhaustion. Thai researchers conducting digital detox camps have found that when participants engage in new, concrete activities—whether learning to cook a Northern Thai dish, exploring new markets, or tending to home gardens—the compulsion to check phones dramatically decreases.
Autonomy—feeling in control of one’s choices—is harder to come by for many Thais facing hierarchical workplaces or strict family expectations. Smartphones, with their customizable playlists, news feeds, and content algorithms, provide a sense of sovereignty. But the article argues there are healthier ways to foster autonomy, such as scheduling small “choice slots” in one’s week, like choosing Saturday’s breakfast or dedicating time to a personal hobby. Citing self-determination theory expert Edward Deci, the story underlines that “People are most motivated when they feel in control of their own actions.”
Comfort-seeking is another reason many Thais pick up their phones during boredom, awkward silences, or stress. The digital glow acts as a “comfort blanket,” shielding users from unease but rarely resolving the root feeling. Mental health counselors in Thailand increasingly recommend building a “comfort menu” of analog activities—such as sipping herbal tea, walking in a soi lined with flowering trees, or practicing breathing exercises. These alternatives help reduce reliance on devices as emotional anesthesia.
Purpose and progress also figure heavily in Thai phone habits. A sense of purpose, so vital in Thailand’s Buddhist culture, is easily confused for the stimulation of scrolling through news or social media feeds. Conversely, app-based “badges,” “streaks,” and rewards tap into our desire for progress—something not every job or family role offers in clear, measurable terms. The research recommends concrete ways to fulfill these needs offline: tracking real-world accomplishments in a notebook, starting a project like a rooftop herb garden, or mentoring a local student. These provide a longer-lasting sense of achievement and contentment.
Within the Thai context, such practical suggestions are deeply resonant. Whether it’s joining local temple activities, celebrating Songkran not just through photos but community engagement, or participating in shared cooking during festivals, fulfilling emotional needs face-to-face can lessen dependence on digital affirmation.
Thai cultural historians point out that the Kingdom has long valued “sanook” (finding fun and joy in everyday life) and “sabai” (comfort and ease). Digital devices, while helpful, are no substitute for traditional forms of well-being, such as family gatherings, collective merit-making, or sharing meals under banyan trees. As electronics have replaced some of these rituals, the need for intentional “emotional nutrition” becomes even more acute.
Looking forward, experts warn of the risks if these needs are continually neglected and substituted by screens. Studies published in the Journal of Behavioral Addictions indicate rising rates of anxiety, sleep disturbance, and social isolation among Thai youth most absorbed in their devices (ScienceDirect). Educators and pediatricians are calling for changes at both policy and community levels—such as digital literacy classes in schools, “phone-free hour” campaigns, and the incorporation of mindfulness practices rooted in Thai traditions.
To rebalance our relationship with smartphones, the article encourages readers to experiment by choosing just one unmet need and addressing it offline for a week. This might look like taking an evening stroll with a neighbor, reviving an old passion such as watercolor painting, or setting aside time for temple meditation. As habits shift, anecdotal evidence and behavioral science both show the urge to reflexively reach for a device decreases. “Small, steady moves shift the relationship from compulsive to conscious,” the article concludes. “Your phone can still entertain, inform, and organize—yet it no longer dictates where attention lives. You do.”
For Thais wishing to break free from “phone addiction,” the message is clear: consider which emotional needs may be going unmet, and try to satisfy them in the real world through family, community, and personal growth. The transformation won’t come overnight, but even small changes can restore wellbeing and return attention to what matters most.
For further reading on emotional health and digital wellbeing, see VegOut Magazine’s full article (VegOutMag.com), or consult mental health resources from Thailand’s Department of Mental Health (DMH Thailand). To receive support, Thais can reach out to local health centers, “Happy Workplace” initiatives, or educational programs about healthy digital habits.