I think there's a danger in how we can get addicted to the

The words of Carrie Coon—“I think there's a danger in how we can get addicted to the things that reaffirm to us who we are. For example, Facebook; people who make these Facebook posts about what's happening to them, just so people will chime in and give them positive reinforcement.”—strike like a quiet but piercing warning. They call us to examine the cravings of the human heart, the need for recognition, and the peril of seeking one’s worth from the fleeting applause of others. She names addiction not of the body, but of the soul: the endless hunger for affirmation that chains us, leaving us dependent on external voices to define who we are.

The ancients knew this temptation in other forms. The philosophers of Greece and Rome spoke of the danger of living for the approval of the crowd. Epictetus warned that he who rests his happiness on the opinion of others is never free, for he is a slave to voices beyond his control. In every age, men have sought validation—from the clamor of the amphitheater, from the court of kings, from the gossip of neighbors. Today, it is Facebook and the countless mirrors of digital life. Coon’s words are timeless: the medium has changed, but the danger remains.

History gives us clear illustrations. Consider the Roman general Coriolanus, who, though a mighty warrior, lived and fell by the favor of the people. He entered Rome to cheers, but when the crowd turned against him, he was exiled in disgrace. His worth was bound to the shifting tides of approval, and when it receded, he was left adrift. So it is for those who seek only positive reinforcement from the outside; when the applause fades, the self collapses.

Coon’s warning also points to a deeper peril: that of forgetting the self entirely in the pursuit of affirmation. The more we seek others to reaffirm who we are, the less we cultivate the strength to know ourselves without their voices. The ancient Oracle at Delphi inscribed, “Know thyself.” But this knowledge cannot be granted by likes, comments, or praise—it must be forged within, through reflection, struggle, and solitude. To depend on others’ words for identity is to build a temple on shifting sand.

Yet she does not condemn the desire for affirmation itself, for it is a human need to be seen and known. Rather, she cautions against addiction, against the endless cycle of dependence that drains the soul. Just as a man may drink wine for joy but fall into ruin if he cannot live without it, so too may affirmation be good in measure but destructive when it becomes the sole source of worth. To seek encouragement is natural; to live by it is perilous.

The lesson for us is clear: cultivate an inner foundation of strength that does not crumble with the silence of others. Practice solitude, reflection, and gratitude without broadcast. Strive to do good not because others will see, but because it is good. Share your life with honesty, but do not measure its value by the responses you receive. Let affirmation be a gift, not a chain.

So, dear listener, take Carrie Coon’s words as a mirror and a guide. Beware of the subtle snares of addiction to validation. Do not let the clamor of approval dictate your worth. Instead, root yourself in truth, in character, and in the quiet confidence that comes from within. For the applause of others is fleeting, but the strength of a self well-known and well-grounded is eternal. And in this strength, you will find freedom—the freedom to live not for the crowd, but for the fullness of your own soul.