Michelle: A 2016 Canadian study found that nearly 80% of males aged 16 to 21 reported a sexual problem during partnered sex. Mark: Hold on, eighty percent? Of 16 to 21-year-olds? That’s a staggering number. It completely flies in the face of the common wisdom that for young people, everything should be... well, working just fine. Michelle: Exactly. And this is the exact paradox at the heart of the book we're discussing today: Your Brain on Porn: Internet Pornography and the Emerging Science of Addiction by Gary Wilson. Mark: Gary Wilson... he wasn't a doctor or a psychologist, right? I remember reading he was a science teacher. Michelle: That's right. An anatomy and physiology teacher who became fascinated, and frankly concerned, after seeing thousands of young people online describing these exact issues. His work, including a massively popular TEDx talk, basically launched a global conversation. The book is highly rated by readers, but it's also been pretty controversial among some experts. Mark: I can imagine. It’s a topic that pushes a lot of buttons. Michelle: It really does. And the story of how this all came to light is fascinating because it didn't start in a lab or a clinic. It started on the internet itself.

Mark: What do you mean? Michelle: Well, in the late 2000s, as high-speed internet became universal, something strange started happening on forums like Reddit. Young men, mostly under 40, began sharing stories that all sounded eerily similar. They were experiencing erectile dysfunction, but only with real partners. Mark: Okay, that's... specific. And confusing. Michelle: Deeply confusing for them. They could get an erection just fine while watching pornography, often very extreme pornography, but when they were with a person they were attracted to, nothing. One user described the feeling of having sex with a real woman as "alien," saying his mind had been so conditioned to a screen that real intimacy felt foreign. Mark: Wow. That’s a powerful and sad way to put it. But wait, so this wasn't a top-down diagnosis from doctors, but a bottom-up movement of people comparing notes? Michelle: Precisely. It was a grassroots investigation. They started hypothesizing that maybe, just maybe, the endless stream of high-novelty internet porn was desensitizing them. This led to the creation of online communities like NoFap, where people would experiment with quitting porn and share their results. Mark: And what were the results? Michelle: Often, dramatic improvements. Not just in sexual function, but across the board. People reported that their social anxiety and depression began to lift. They had more energy, more confidence. But the book also highlights how devastating the problem can be before that point. There’s this one story about a guy who was so consumed by his habit that he lost his pharmacy diploma and his girlfriend on the very same day because of procrastination fueled by porn. Mark: Oh man, that's brutal. That really grounds it in reality. But is this just a few extreme cases, or is there broader data to back this up? Michelle: There is. Wilson cites a lot of it. For instance, more than 50 studies now link porn use to less sexual and relationship satisfaction. And maybe most significantly, the World Health Organization now officially recognizes 'Compulsive sexual behaviour disorder' in its diagnostic manual, the ICD-11, which is directly applicable to people struggling with pornography. Mark: So the medical establishment is starting to catch up to what these users were discovering on their own a decade ago. Michelle: It seems so. But the core question remains the one that those early forum users were asking: why is this happening? What is it about modern internet porn that’s so different from, say, a Playboy magazine from the 70s?

Mark: Yeah, that's the real question. What is happening in the brain that's different from looking at a swimsuit magazine in the 90s? It can't just be the explicitness. Michelle: The book argues it’s not just about what you're seeing, but about the delivery mechanism and how it interacts with our ancient brain wiring. It starts with a concept known as the "Coolidge Effect." Mark: The Coolidge Effect? Sounds like a presidential policy. Michelle: (Laughs) It’s actually named after President Calvin Coolidge. The story goes that he and the First Lady were touring a farm. The farmer pointed out a rooster that could mate dozens of times a day. Mrs. Coolidge said, "Please tell that to the President." When the farmer did, Coolidge thought for a moment and asked, "Same hen every time?" The farmer said, "Oh no, Mr. President. A different hen each time." Coolidge replied, "Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge." Mark: (Laughs) Okay, I get it. Novelty. Michelle: Exactly. It’s the brain's powerful, primal drive for sexual novelty. Scientists see it in the lab with rats. A male rat will mate with a female until he’s exhausted. But put a new female in the cage, and he’s instantly ready to go again. This drive is powered by the neurochemical dopamine. Mark: Ah, dopamine. The pleasure molecule. Michelle: Well, that's a common misconception. The book, and neuroscience in general, clarifies that dopamine isn't really about pleasure or "liking." It's about wanting. It's the motivation chemical, the "seeking" engine. It's what makes you get up and hunt for food or pursue a mate. It’s the engine, not the destination. Mark: So it’s the chase, not the reward itself. That makes sense. It’s the same mechanism that keeps us scrolling on social media, right? The endless possibility of the next post being interesting. Michelle: You've nailed it. And this is where internet porn becomes what Nobel-winning biologist Nikolaas Tinbergen called a "supernormal stimulus." Mark: A supernormal stimulus? What’s that? Michelle: Tinbergen found he could trick birds into preferring giant, brightly-colored fake eggs over their own. The fake egg was an exaggerated version of the real thing, and it hijacked their instincts. Internet porn, the book argues, is a supernormal stimulus for the human brain. It’s not just one new partner; it’s an infinite, endless stream of new partners, new scenarios, new fetishes, all available instantly, with zero effort. It’s a perfected, exaggerated version of the novelty our brains are wired to seek. Mark: So it's like giving a kid who likes sugar a firehose of pure, uncut, high-fructose corn syrup, 24/7. Michelle: That’s a perfect analogy. The brain's natural braking systems, which are designed for a world of scarcity, just get overwhelmed. And the brain starts to adapt. It desensitizes. The "normal" real-world stimuli, like an actual human partner, can't compete with the hyper-stimulation of the screen. The brain has been rewired to expect the supernormal. Mark: This sounds pretty bleak. If our ancient brain wiring is being hijacked by this modern technology, are we just doomed? Can the brain be rewired back?

Michelle: That's the hopeful part of the book. The same principle that gets people into this situation—neuroplasticity—is also the way out. The brain can change. The community of users who first identified the problem also pioneered the solution: they call it "rebooting." Mark: Rebooting. Like a computer. Michelle: Exactly. It’s essentially a period of complete abstinence from artificial sexual stimulation. No porn, no porn substitutes, no fantasizing about porn. The goal is to give the brain's reward circuitry a rest, allowing it to reset and re-sensitize to normal life. Mark: That sounds incredibly difficult. What does that actually feel like for someone going through it? Michelle: It can be grueling. One of the most challenging and counterintuitive parts of the process is something users call the "flatline." Mark: The flatline? Michelle: It's a temporary, but often terrifying, loss of all libido. Your erections might disappear, you feel no sexual desire at all. It's a standard withdrawal symptom. Mark: Wow, that sounds like the ultimate test of faith. You're quitting because you have no libido with your partner, and the first thing that happens is... you get even less libido? Michelle: Precisely. It’s the point where many people give up, thinking they’ve broken themselves permanently. But the book is filled with stories of people who pushed through it. There's one account from an Australian guy who documented his recovery. He went through a flatline that lasted nearly seven weeks. He was terrified, but he persevered, and on the other side, his libido and function came back stronger and healthier than before. Mark: Seven weeks. That's an eternity when you're worried about that. It really highlights the importance of knowing what to expect. So, what are some of the strategies people use to get through this? Michelle: The book outlines a lot of practical tips. A big one is managing your triggers. One user shared a story about how he realized, to his surprise, that the sound of his parents leaving the house was a major trigger for him. It meant he was alone and could browse freely. Mark: I can see that. The association is built over years. Michelle: Right. So he developed a "face and replace" strategy. The moment he heard the front door close, he would immediately get up, leave the house, and go for a walk or call a friend. He replaced the old, destructive habit with a new, healthy one. It's about consciously rewiring those automatic responses. Mark: That makes a lot of sense. It’s not just about willpower, but about actively building new pathways. So what's the end goal? How do you know when you're 'back to normal'? Michelle: The book says that's a subjective question, as everyone's goals are different. For some, it's the return of morning erections. For others, it's being able to have sex with a partner without anxiety. But the biggest gift, according to many of the stories, is simply regaining a sense of control over your own life and your own desires.

Mark: So, when you strip it all away, what's the big takeaway here? Is this book just anti-porn? Because that’s often how this conversation gets framed. Michelle: I think that's the trap many people fall into. The book's argument is less about being anti-porn and more about being pro-awareness. Wilson’s work, which has been criticized by some for its strong stance, really positions this as a public health issue, not a moral one. He draws a powerful parallel to the "Tobacco Wars" of the 20th century. Mark: How so? Michelle: For decades, the science linking smoking to cancer was clear, but the industry sowed doubt and manufactured controversy to protect its profits. Wilson argues a similar thing is happening now. We're in the middle of a massive, uncontrolled social experiment with a new, powerful technology, and we're only just beginning to understand the consequences. Mark: That’s a chilling comparison. Michelle: It is. And it suggests the core idea isn't about judging the content of porn. It’s about understanding that our stone-age brains are simply not equipped to handle the supernormal stimuli of the digital age. This isn't a new moral panic; it's a new biological mismatch. Mark: That reframes the whole issue. It’s not about good or bad, but about compatible versus incompatible technology for our brains. Michelle: Exactly. And it forces us to ask a really profound question: In a world of infinite, perfectly engineered digital pleasure, how do we choose to find satisfaction and connection in the real, imperfect world? Mark: That's a heavy question, and one that goes way beyond just this topic. It applies to food, social media, everything. We'd love to know what you all think. Does this resonate with your own experiences with digital habits? Let us know on our socials. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.