I recently wrote about the detrimental effects of screen time. But like most technology, screens have improved my life. Let's look at some of these positive aspects, along with their own issues.
When I travel for work, I am able to connect with my kids through FaceTime. Being hundreds of miles away from home can feel incredibly far away from family. Nothing is more important to me than seeing and hearing my kids' faces. The warmth and comfort that these video calls bring is a lifesaver.
I use these apps and platforms conjunctionIt connects senders and receivers together, regardless of all real-world obstacles.
Skype and WhatsApp allow us to chat with family and friends abroad, while Instagram acts as a kind of perpetual video Telegram. Looking back at the isolation caused by the COVID-19 lockdown, we wonder where we would be without Zoom, Google Meet and Microsoft Teams.
Video communication has also spread across social media. YouTube has put movies and documentaries in our hands, destroying the vision of the bloated channel system by turning mass media into a network of content that anyone can create. As a journalist, I use a variety of video platforms to conduct interviews and gather information.
If Facebook realizes its dream of a metaverse, these interactions will be immersive. I’m a bit old for Snapchat, but its video messaging features add levity to conversations. Twitch, X, Discord, and TikTok all contribute to the continuing advancement of audiovisual two-way communication, not to mention the luxury of cell phone cameras. It’s only been 60 years since Abraham Zapruder captured one of America’s darkest moments with his 8mm camera.
I use these apps and platforms conjunctionIt connects senders and receivers no matter what real-world obstacles there may be — after all, this is the age of the network, when independent human stories no longer make sense.
Connected interfaces enhance social connections and provide much-needed clarity. There's no lack of context that gets in the way of letters, texts, and emails. Even phone calls can muddy the reality of a conversation. Connected interfaces offer a version of telepresence, the feeling that everyone on a call is as close as possible.
Remote telepresence has many interesting consequences, one of which is that geographical boundaries have disappeared. Distance is no longer absolute. This has led to the collapse of private space, with disastrous consequences.
The commitment to telepresence is at the expense of a much more important experience: presence. It's a modern paradox that, like meatless burgers and Marxist theory, the improvements are contrived products that belittle the original.
This blurs the distinction between real and virtual and leads to the pornification of the hookup process, including something as simple as small talk in the marketplace, or any interaction that slows you down.
A life of constant teleaction is not good for humans. It negates our desire for a life free of performance and observation. At worst, it facilitates telesurveillance. Like the nuclear family, the home is supposed to function as a private institution separate from the state.
This distinction between public and private life is crucial to the health of civilization: without it, we could easily slip into a culture of lethargic self-indulgence (Brave New World) or a dystopia of authoritarian regulation (1984).
Also, the speed of exchange is immediate, which exacerbates our bondage to the burnout society.
Conversely, this remote transmission is truly a revolution in transportation. Society has now become a practice of endless live broadcasts. Real-time connectivity gives each of us a superhuman view of the complexities of life. Imagine trying to explain that to a peasant in the 11th century.
So the next time you feel overwhelmed by technological advances and the omnipresence of screens, slow down if you can and remember the good thing that technology has given you: the ability to meet with anyone, anywhere, almost face-to-face.
