I spent my early 20s at Google learning how to hack human attention. I analyzed data to understand exactly how to get people to click, scroll, and stay hooked to YouTube or Google Search. I was good at it. The work was fascinating, using behavioral science and machine learning to predict and influence what billions of people would do next.

What I didn’t realize then was that I was helping build the architecture of addiction that now defines modern life.

Last month, a billboard went up on Canal Street in NYC: “Scrolling Kills.” It kills our attention. Our time. The moments with our children, our ideas, our lives.

Within hours, it was everywhere, not because of clever marketing, but because it named what millions feel every day. Over one hundred million people have downloaded focus apps in the past year alone because they recognize this reality: hours vanishing into algorithmic black holes, every notification pulling them further from what actually matters.

Here’s what Washington is missing: parents are now putting screen time limits on their own phones, not their teenagers’. Adults can’t model behavior they can’t control themselves. Productivity has flatlined despite unprecedented technology because we spend half our workday fighting for focus. Willpower doesn’t work against systems that were engineered, tested, and perfected to be irresistible.

This is the context missing from every congressional hearing on social media. The problem isn’t misinformation or mental health in isolation. It’s that we’ve allowed private companies to exploit behavioral psychology against the public. Silicon Valley spent the last decade optimizing for engagement. The rest of us lost something we can’t get back.

Warning labels are a start. But they’re an admission that what’s happening to us is dangerous enough to require one.

The Real Cost of Doomscrolling

In June 2024, U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy called for warning labels on social media, backed by 42 state attorneys general. Around the same time, Jonathan Haidt’s “The Anxious Generation” was climbing bestseller lists with the same message: the mental health crisis among young people rose in lockstep with smartphones. Dr. Murthy was direct: we have the evidence. Now we need action.

But Gen Z isn’t the only generation affected. Adults are losing just as much time, and the productivity cost is staggering. Research shows the average worker burns two hours daily on non-work screen time during work hours. Add context switching, where every interruption takes 15 minutes to recover from, and The Economist estimates the annual U.S. productivity loss exceeds $1 trillion. France calculates it at 2.9% of their entire GDP.

We fantasize about four-day work weeks. We can’t even protect five-day ones.

The mechanics are familiar: every scroll triggers dopamine, every notification promises validation. Stanford’s Dr. Anna Lembke writes in Dopamine Nation that we’re trapped in engineered pleasure loops designed to leave us perpetually unsatisfied, always reaching for the next hit. The platforms built this deliberately.

Then AI arrived, and the system became unbeatable. We’re scrolling through an internet where AI now generates more content than humans do. Our brains weren’t built to filter this. Harvard Medical School researchers have documented how this rewires our neural pathways, increasing anxiety, shrinking attention spans, and destroying our capacity for deep work.

The average American now spends 5 hours and 30 minutes per day on their phone, nearly a third of waking hours. Most get their first smartphone at age 12. By 40, you’ve spent seven full years staring at a screen. And usage is still increasing.

Why Warning Labels Matter

On October 13, 2025, California became the second state to require mental health warning labels on social media platforms. Starting January 1, 2027, platforms must display warnings that social media “can have a profound risk of harm to the mental health and well-being of children and adolescents.”

This matters because California is Silicon Valley’s home. When Big Tech’s backyard demands accountability, the tide has turned. It also validates Dr. Murthy’s call for tobacco-style warnings backed by 42 state attorneys general. Warning labels work, they worked for tobacco and alcohol by shifting cultural norms and creating legal liability that forces real change.

But warning labels are necessary, not sufficient.

What We Need Now

For lawmakers: Don’t stop at warning labels. Roll out California’s model nationwide. Require transparency about algorithmic manipulation. Fund independent research. Hold platforms liable for design patterns that systematically undermine users’ ability to control their own time and attention.

For platforms: The next generation of users is opting out. Data from focus apps like Opal shows seventy percent of users are students who’ve done the math on what infinite scroll costs them. They’re not waiting for regulation. The window to redesign these systems voluntarily is closing. Change the product, not just the PR.

For parents, educators, and employers: Stop waiting for policy. Tools exist now. Screen time awareness is becoming as fundamental as nutrition. Create environments that protect attention and reward focus.

For individuals: Your attention is your most valuable asset. Protect it like you’d protect your health.

The Movement Is Already Here

In 2008, working at Google, I wrote the first business plan for a focus app to counter this problem. I knew even then that what we were building wasn’t designed for human wellbeing. It took 11 years to build it, years of watching the greatest technological minds spend their days figuring out how to make you click one more ad.

Social media platforms profit from addiction. Their business model depends on it. That’s why individual willpower fails and why we need systemic change. We need to realign technology with human well-being, not quarterly earnings.

The distraction economy is stealing our mental health, our productivity, and our ability to be present for what matters. Warning labels are just the beginning. We’ll look back at this moment the same way we look back at tobacco ads proclaiming “More Doctors Smoke Camels.”

Your attention is yours. Take it back.

The opinions expressed in Fortune.com commentary pieces are solely the views of their authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and beliefs of Fortune.