I’ve been a horrible slacker and still owe Nick several meals for this awesome site. In the minute or two it took me to start this blog I’ve effectively checked my Facebook several times (in hope someone commented me in the 8 hours I’ve been asleep on something…anything) and checked my phone about 4 times (as if someone is at up at 8:30 am is frantically trying to contact me). In a few unfortunate hours I will be using the ever reliable New York City Transit where I will find a multitude of annoying commuters chatting, texting, AIMing, Facebooking, and generally cell-phoning away. Even when I go to lecture, any lecture, I will find about 80% of the kids with their cellphones on their laps or desks, compulsively checking it every five minutes. The other 20% will be on their laptops checking Facebook. And inevitably, almost without fail, someone’s phone will ring, exposing their ridiculous ringtone and pissing off everyone, as if no one, ever, has been guilty of forgetting to turn off their phone.
I’ve been guilty of the aforementioned crimes myself. If I am without my phone, I feel naked and alone. And being away from my Mac for more than a few hours, is like being torn away from my firstborn child. Don’t ask how I know that feeling, but I’m sure that’s exactly what it feels like. I won’t even mention the ridiculousness of the fact that all these people, somehow find conversation companions at even 8 in the freakin morning.
Of course, technology is the mechanism of progress. There’s no denying its functionality, the necessity for evolution as the few organisms on this planet capable of not only using tools but constantly improving them to serve our lives better. Live for a few days without a microwave and breakfast suddenly takes 30 minutes to make instead of 3. Try to write a paper using only a pen a pad. By page 5 out of 10 you will probably be stricken with a painful case of carpal tunnel. But technology has devolved some really important human characteristics. I’m by no means going on a technology-is-evil rant, but I think our society has somewhat been over-indulgent in its use.
Case in point: you’re out with a friend, you’re eating somewhere, your blackberry is on the table, their Razr too (or strapped and securely on vibrate to their belt, if they’re russian). As soon as there’s a lull in conversation or a waiting period of 3 seconds, or that ever soothing ring tone is heard, both parties’ hands are automatically on the phone. And it’s fine. But it’s really not. Unless you’re the only doctor in the tristate area and are on-call, there are statistically very few situations that would require you to pay immediate attention to your cellular device at the expense of real person to person interaction. Think about the last time you called your friend rather than texting them (while doing something else non the less, like sitting in class). Yeah, yeah, for little things it’s easier to text someone than to call them and god forbid have a real fucking conversation, and have to have things to say.
I think we’re running the danger of having nothing to say that can’t be fit into 200 characters. We’ve become masters of packaging our thoughts and editing them on an inch-wide screen. And also masters in analyzing the content of several words. Why wasn’t there an exclamation point after that? Does it mean she’s not happy to see me? We’ve completely become selfish with our phones constantly at our ears or fingers. There’s little common etiquette in having private conversations in public places. And there’s also something very solitary in that. It’s like saying “I’m in a world that I don’t want you to be part of, but I’ll allow you the gift of overhearing it.” And at dinner with your friend, you’re saying that you kind of want to see them, but their presence alone is not enough for you to let them into your digital world anyway. Where did the switch occur where we began to feel loved not when a person sent us a card or hugged us, but when they sent a meaningless, poorly punctuated text about something or other? And how do we stop it?
This list of scenarios could go on, with all of its possible implications on communication and social relationships, but I don’t find it necessary. I think on some level we’re eventually aware of everything we’re neglecting while attending to all of our electronic devices. We just chose to ignore it because it’s easier to text than to go out and find comfort in the sometimes disappointing relationships we can have with the people around us. Sitting across a table from a terrible friend or texting a terrible friend, won’t make your friendship any better. But it might. So my proposal is let’s all try to talk to faces and not 200 characters. Let’s silence our phones on trains and in lecture halls. Let’s try to remember what it was like to talk.

No comments yet.