That's men for you:Up to 10 or 15 years ago, Ireland was almost a pornography-free zone. Books, magazines and films which were in any way questionable were kept out by censorship systems.
That changed with the arrival of the internet. Today, cybersex in the form of pornography or chatrooms is a common Irish experience unless we are still an island of saints and scholars - and whatever about the scholars, the saints are definitely in short supply.
Users of cybersex can be divided into a few categories. First are those who spend relatively little time on this activity, who can take it or leave it and who become bored by it fairly quickly.
A second category could be described as compulsive. Cybersex helps them to bypass real-life sexual problems - such as the effort of looking for a sexual partner - or to block out other concerns. This group may seek to control their use of internet pornography but often fail in the attempt.
The third group is what some researchers call the at-risk category. Cybersex helps these people to block out uncomfortable emotions and becomes their principal means of doing so. It provides them with an attractive alternative to the often uncomfortable vicissitudes of real-life relationships.
Indeed, for them, cybersex may be the only type of interaction that can arouse the sort of emotions that would normally form part of social relationships. Members of this group can, at an extreme, spend the equivalent of a working week online to pornographic websites or chatrooms.
People who habitually overuse cybersex - and not just the at-risk category - have certain reactions in common. The anticipation of going online induces a sense of euphoria and excitement; this gives way to a sense of engagement and wellbeing; the user continues surfing beyond the time-limit he has set for himself; social relationships and duties are neglected; in some cases even the need for food and sleep is forgotten. For many, though not all, this sequence is followed by remorse, self-hate and fear of discovery - some call this the "desperation stage".
Internet pornography also interferes with real-life sexual relationships because no real-life partner can match everything the viewer sees on the screen or experiences in a chatroom. One study found a sharp rise in damage to real-life relationships in people who spent more than 10 hours a week on cybersex.
A key feature of cybersex is the absence of a sense of time passing. Psychologists call this a state of "flow" in which a person becomes utterly absorbed in a task. You may have experienced this state in relation to work, sports or other activities.
In a sense, time becomes distorted. What takes hours in reality feels like it has taken minutes. A person who is concerned about someone who spends "hours and hours" viewing pornography online may not realise that for the user, time flashes by.
This hijacking of time is one of the primary means through which cybersex interferes with real life. And that state of "flow" increases the attractiveness of a return to the experience.
Giving up a cybersex dependence can be as difficult as dropping any other compulsive behaviour. Users need to find a substitute activity which provides alternative enjoyment and satisfaction - easy to say but not necessarily so easy to do.
They must also develop the ability, each time the desire for cybersex arises, to wait for it to die away, as it will. This is all complicated by the fact that, among the compulsions, cybersex is probably the most immediately and freely available for many.
Some couples say they use cybersex to spice up their relationship and I have no reason to doubt them. Because of the hidden nature of cybersex use - most people don't discuss it over Sunday dinner - it is difficult to say whether the experience is positive or negative for most of its consumers. Cybersex is still one of our newer compulsions and a fascinating example of how technology can drive human behaviour.
Padraig O'Morain is a counsellor and his blog is at www.justlikeaman.blogspot.com