December 6, 2017

The world could be on my shoulders, willing to end if not for a single action of mine, and yet I could be found still wallowing over the lack of instant emotional reciprocation. I am helpless as my mood has been conditioned to be dictated by the expectations set during my youth – that it was rude not to be available at all times of day — and thereby I must feel hated if my expectations are not met. It’s a cage we were born into, but the door is too heavy for me alone to open. It’s the pressure of many and of my environment that has conditioned me, and in turn I have contributed, supported even, this convention that plagues the generation of connectivity.

I’m not a luddite, far from it actually, but I resent the impact that technology has had on the human social experience. It’s easy to appreciate the instant communication, when received and reciprocated, that is allowed by our technology. But what many do not appreciate or stop to question is the impact this had on our conditioning, our expectations, and our relationships. No one person is at fault for this, it’s merely a byproduct of the human brain. We’re programmed to analyze behaviors and isolate patterns, and evolutionarily it’s beneficial to be concerned if things seem to break that pattern. However, this exists itself today in an unhealthy, detrimental form.

I once took eight hours to escape — no communication, just time to be introspective. I selected a book from my shelf, it was about the Meiji Restoration of Japan, and I walked down to the lake without any connection to anyone else, reading for hours with my only companions being the rustling leaves in the trees and the sounds of the ripples in the water in front of me, and at that moment that was all that was necessary. Upon reentry into the world, I was questioned what was wrong — why I wasn’t available — if I was okay.

Yes! Yes! Yes! I was stupendous because the time for introspection was suddenly a special phenomenon that gave rise to a previously untapped sense of euphoria, but then turned dubious at the question. Why must something need to be wrong? Has the time come and gone for privacy and alone time? Why is it that when little attention is wanted, much is garnered?

The result here is that our generation is shaped more than any other by the needs of others. Previously, if one wanted to go avoid people for five hours and simply read to oneself about the intricacies of Pluto, all one would need to do is go to the library and ask for a book on Pluto. Those five hours were likely theirs, barring special commitments like children or spouses. Today however those five hours are shared, as due to the ability of instant communication, I am expected to always be instantly available. What’s added now is a second step, either before the time in announcing my absence, or after in clarifying my negligence (as that is what it is often seen as). What has been stripped away is the solitary nature of solitude itself.

What has resulted is in no way healthy. Tired and frustrated with having to deal with the belligerent notifications at the turn of every page, I began over the past summer behaving more akin to a bat than a human. I flipped my sleep schedule so as to be awake during the night and asleep during the day, unable to be disturbed and finally free. However, while I felt relieved in finally being able to be recluse, this nature was not looked favorably upon by my parents and peers.

They couldn’t much be blamed, but it was apparent by this that there would be no victory in this game. As my fingers produce the keystrokes that produce the text on this page I continue to have to deal with the problem at the very center of this piece. Ding! Ring! Ding! Again, and again they come, and while some people can simply ignore them, I cannot. Part of it is curiosity, but the majority has to do with empathy. The moment a message is received, I am not at my computer anymore, I am at theirs. I am waiting for a response, whether it’s help or a hearty discussion, I become the one wanting. A wanting feeling is not a good one, so of course I respond.

I weep for today but I fear for tomorrow, as this problem is only set to get worse. Enter the average teenager’s room in 2040 and what do you believe will be found? With your ears, you will find them speaking to their friends, but this time they aren’t on the phone. With your eyes, you will see them on their Oculus Rift V8 in their literal fantasy world as it will then have become commonplace not only to respond instantly with one’s smart-glasses, but to turn up virtually in another’s home for a conversation.

There is not an easy solution. As stated before, I am part of the problem as well. There’s a redefining of expectations that is necessary. Disappearing for a few hours should not be seen as a crime or a sign of trouble, quite the contrary it should be encouraged more often. I imagine the world turning a thousand miles per hour faster from the collective increase in productivity brought as a result of the global communication shackle being removed. I wish to be part of that, so now I depart to solitude.