We know big things that divide us: media fragmentation; social media; misinformation. They herd us like digital sheep dogs. Then they arm the sheep. As Jonathan Haidt put it, “We’ve been shooting one another ever since,” using metaphorical “darts.” (Any metaphor works if it invokes a potentially lethal projectile.)
What of the little things? Like termites that degrade mortar in pursuit of wood, digital gremlins dig into our lives. Quietly, slowly, insidiously, they erode the social mortar by keeping us away from one another.
The pandemic exacerbated our isolation, but the things it intensified were already there.
The Agents of Isolation.
Media Fragmentation
Media fragmentation began during the Reagan administration, with ownership deregulation. As cable channels multiplied like quail in the spring, people gathered into herds called Fox, MSNBC, and so on. Remember when Bruce Springsteen complained about “57 channels with nothing on?” Only 57? What is that, your Favorites list?
Then, along came the Internet, marching like Sherman through brain cells. Community Bulletin Board Systems gave way to web pages, which gave way to blogs, which gave way to social networks, which gave us “influencers.” Can you call it evolution when it culminates in the Kardashians?
Misinformation
Humans have told each other stories since we gathered around a campfire eating mastodon. We love to share words. Sometimes we hurl them. Words are society’s currency, shaping us as much as we shape them. They pull us toward them; they are powerful.
Campfire fibs never went viral. Modern humans lie magnificently. Falsehoods can soar on a digital jet stream, thanks to technology.
Here is the good news. While media fragmentation will endure, misinformation can be addressed in two simple ways: (1) teach media resilience, and (2) ban algorithms.
Media resilience involves asking two simple questions: How do you know that? What are your sources? Many people are insufficiently schooled in curiosity and should be taught to listen critically. They need to protect themselves from those who would pick their pocket or poach their brains. Democracy requires informed citizens.
Algorithms should sell products and services, not ideas. If I’m looking for shoes, I welcome an algorithm that provides me with options. That’s just marketing. But leave people’s minds out of it. Ideas will find their own path. I’m old enough to remember “party lines” (note to younger readers: not as cool as it sounds!). But I remember exchanging ideas without an algorithm sluicing me into a channel it thinks I belong in. Thanks anyway, Mark and gang. I can find my own way around ideaville. Take down your damned algorithms.
Voice Mail
“Please pay attention because our menu items have changed.” Don’t you hate that, especially after all the trouble you went through to memorize the menu? Oh, you didn’t? Those who program those infernal devices think you did.
They expect you to endure the madness of their Customer Avoidance systems. Remember when it started? A receptionist picked up and said, “How may I direct your call?” I didn’t hear “how may I direct?” as much as I heard “who can I foist you off onto?”
At least a live person answered and transferred me to another live person. How quaint. Modern systems eliminated the human factor. Whether it’s online chat or over the phone, the mechanism is programmed to do anything it can to avoid providing human contact. Each tap brings up another menu of choices that likely have nothing do with your query. After you exhaust your choices, and your vocabulary of barnyard invectives, you can leave a message – if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, the robot simply hangs up on you.
The Apps
The newest annoying little gremlin is the Virtual Assistant app. It’s Clippy under demonic possession. With online chat, it cheerily greets you and proceeds to confiscate the next two hours of your existence with a succession of menus linking you to information that has nothing to do with your question. It’s not designed to actually help you; it’s built to wear you down until you give up. If fortune smiles, you’ll stumble onto the Secret Incantation that miraculously leads to a live human. (Don’t memorize the incantation; the menu items will change.)
Companies use Virtual Assistants for phone calls. The process is much the same, except for the satisfaction of screaming profanity into the phone. Their purpose also is to wear you down and never let you speak to an actual person.
Apps refer you to other apps. “Most of your questions can be answered on our app,” claims the robot that takes your call. “Shall I send you a link?” It really doesn’t want to interact with you. “Please, it says, “just go away. Another app is dying to annoy you.”
It Pleases the Soul
What does it cost to allow our social mortar to decay? What do we lose? Consider the words of Walt Whitman:
There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well
“We need human connection,” wrote Katie Stiles in PsychCentral, “Connecting with others on a physical and emotional level can improve our health and overall well-being.” “Connecting with someone doesn’t have to always include words, either,” she added. “Time spent in relative closeness and experience can also be a bonding experience.” Unfortunately, she wrote, “with the rise of digital interactions, we’ve also seen an increase in loneliness.”
We need to talk to each other and breathe the same air. It pleases the soul.