You knew it had to come. When it was reported last week that a British rehabilitation clinic had begun treating patients for an uncontrollable addiction to text messaging, it certainly sounded like a sign of the times. Or something. It was hard to be sure of the precise significance of the announcement that The Priory, a clinic in London, had staked out this new territory in the relatively uncharted realm of techno-driven psychosis. But the fancy facility is known as one of the best acute psychiatric hospitals in Britain, so its doctors probably knew what they were doing when they identified unstoppable text messaging as a complaint comparable to eating disorders, alcoholism, drug abuse and stress-related illnesses.

Maybe they were alerted to the brand-new, epoch-defining disorder when they first heard that text messaging was insanely popular among some age groups in certain developed (or overdeveloped) countries -- Japan being as good an example as Britain.

Or maybe they simply observed their own teenage and twenty-something offspring in their leisure time and noted, with admirable professionalism, a correlation between their offspring's bad moods and separation from their (i.e., the offspring's) cell phones. Deprived of access to this communication lifeline -- by, say, a summons to join the family for dinner -- the subjects became "moody, irritable and unwell," as the BBC put it last week. Yet, when given free rein to "text," addicts often developed insomnia and eyestrain.

In fact, it was never just about text messaging, despite the headlines. A close reading of the news reports quickly revealed that the new subset of modern angst targeted by The Priory covered a whole list of "behavioral" addictions that have supposedly soared in the last 18 months, including shopping and "spread betting." So-called technology or "contact" addictions included not just text messaging, but surfing the Internet, playing online computer games and speaking on cell phones.

Online instant messaging obviously belongs on the list as well. As the clinic's spokesperson said, "The essence of addiction has altered dramatically in the Noughties." (Noughties? So that's what they're calling the first decade of the new century in Britain. Does The Priory also have a treatment program for addiction to weak puns?)

Text messaging, though, was the attention-getter in the bunch. One of the Priory doctors said some patients had spent up to seven hours a day exchanging cryptic messages on their cell phones. At least one had developed repetitive strain injury from it. Thumbs were getting numb. People were neglecting families and jobs. Naturally, the question arose: What does this new obsession mean? That is something many people here must often have wondered, watching young Japanese, fingers flying, messaging the day away on street corners and in fast-food joints.

The Priory doctors think they know. The root of the problem, they told British reporters last week, is the desire to escape from emotional difficulties such as depression, stress or anxiety. At the deepest level, then, techno-addictions may be merely a new expression of an ancient affliction.

The French thinker and mathematician Blaise Pascal put his finger on it back in the 17th century: "Being unable to cure death, wretchedness and ignorance, people have decided, in order to be happy, not to think about such things," he wrote. "The only answer . . . is to be diverted from thinking of what they are, either by some occupation that takes their minds off it, or by some novel and agreeable passion that keeps them busy." Pascal mentioned gambling, hunting, war and the pursuit of high office as examples of such occupations and diversions. Had he been able to peer ahead 3 1/2 centuries, he would surely have added text messaging to his list.

On another level, though, the doctors hinted, there actually is something new about techno-addictions -- an avoidance of real relationships in favor of artificial ones, unimaginable to our forebears. If that seems too heavy an interpretation to put on a casual pastime, just think back to the last time you saw a group of teenagers ignoring each other as they busily sent messages, or were jostled by someone too caught up in a cell-phone conversation to watch where he (or she) was going. Weren't those people all, in some sense, temporarily occupying a different zone, a simulated reality?

Of course, the genuine addicts are rare and extreme -- and there are certainly worse problems. Don't throw your phone away yet. But just try going a week without it, or without Internet access in whatever form you have it. Most of us would find our fingers itching, because -- let's be honest -- the virtual is a zone we all inhabit now. Maybe the lesson here is that it would be worth cultivating some independence from it.