In the second part of Sherry Turkle's book, "Alone Together," Turkle shifts from a focus on robotic technologies toward a focus on the networked, online, plugged in, interconnected world that we all navigate throughout today. She makes some astute observations about shifts in how we relate to one another, what it means to be "together," and generally how technology affects our interpersonal relationships- or more specifically how it affects the way we approach our interpersonal relationships. Technology has been viewed as "just a tool," as she says (151) it was once seen as a way to navigate a complex "information environment"- a way to make our lives more organized and efficient. What technology- particularly communication technology- has done though, is bring an influx of new stimuli, new outlets, new ways to connect into our lives. We aren't more efficient because of technology- if anything we have more on our plate. We live our lives in different ways, we interact in different ways. Some of these things are good, and some of them are debatably not so good. Thanks to technology, we can be in touch with loved ones across the country without a second thought- but Turkle does a good job in pointing out various ways that technology might also be changing the way we approach our relationships with those same loved ones. Because these things hit so close to home, I am going to use my blog today to illustrate a couple of personal anecdotes that relate to some issues Turkle touches on.
On page 153, Turkle says "In the past, one waited for the sound of the post- by carriage, by foot, by truck. Now, when there is a lull, we check our e-mail, texts, and messages." The idea is that this "digital life" is a "place for hope"- hope for attention, for news, for connection, for interaction. I can relate to that idea, because I have gone through times in my life- perhaps when I am feeling distant from the people around me- that I check my cell phone for new text messages as though it were a nervous tick. There was a desire, a thirst, for some new form of communication; to interact with someone, somewhere. They didn't have to be across the table from me in the dining hall- I just needed to interact with someone I was comfortable with. This even carried on to the point that I would at times imagine I felt a "vibration" in my pocket- and drop everything within my attention span to scramble to see if I had gotten a text (only to find that I hadn't received anything after all.) This mania- the hope of constant connectivity, the desire or need to be constantly available, and the (somewhat shallow) belonging and interaction that comes across the digital mediums all create within me this almost obsessive pattern of behavior, and with it a mindset that values "any" communication over "quality" communication.
Another example that can illustrate the mindset that I can sometimes slip into, and that which I think Turkle is describing. My birthday was this week. With birthdays, everyone likes getting birthday wishes- greeting cards, a phone call, even just an encouraging "happy birthday" from day-to-day acquaintances. However, this year I found myself paying increased attention to another form of birthday greeting- the "obligatory Facebook birthday wall post." I have long thought that posting "Happy Birthday" on someone's Facebook wall was a cheap way to wish them happy birthday. Like much of digital interaction, it lessens the amount of thoughtfulness and time that goes into it. This year was a different story, though. I found myself waiting for a Facebook notification, sometimes I even caught myself more concerned about what people were saying to me on Facebook than who was around me physically at the time.
Immersed in our online lives, in some cases maniacally desiring to be connected- "plugged in"- at all times we probably don't realize what we are doing to ourselves. With all the good that comes from online life and connection, one of the concerns Turkle outlined was the need for true rest, solitude and retreat- which most in this connected world rarely get. We might even know we need a "break" or a "getaway" but suffer separation anxiety if we have to even think about turning our phones off for a minute. The other concern Turkle highlights well is the idea that our lives become "performances" in the same way that our online lives are performances. Even something as innocuous as Facebook requires some kind of "performance" because you want to make a good impression. With this demand to "be" somebody, there is a legitimate worry that we will lose the ability to be genuine with one another- already trained to perform and put on some sort of expected act.
This is all not to say that Turkle argues that all technology is bad- the main thing that it seems she is arguing is for an awareness of the demands technology places on us- specifically: we should be aware of what our technology does to us, as we become busier and more connected than ever before.
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