Talking Without Speaking

The “Sound of Silence” cover from the Maccabeats is pretty arresting. The video for the song (in collaboration with Jew in the City) frames addiction to technology within a Jewish perspective and implicitly asks us what we mean by “rest” on Shabbat.

Of course, this isn’t just a Jewish issue. How do any of us find moments of introspection when the notifications never end? When every moment that we could be present, we instead reach for the device attached to our hip?

Full disclosure: I’m an avowed techno-optimist. I believe that there is beauty in human ingenuity and that this ingenuity can be made manifest in the technology that we use to improve our lives.

But like all tools, the ethics of it lies in the use. A hammer can build a house or break a nose. A phone can separate us from others or it can connect us together in new and fascinating ways.

One of my favorite phone games is an indie title named Bounden. It’s a dance game that teaches ballet movements.

When you play Bounden, you don’t feel connected to the phone. You feel connected to your dance partner. Having played this game at conferences and in work settings, I must admit that you invariably attract an audience. People are intrigued by joyous play.

Bounden turns your phone from an isolating device into a physical, present experience that draws people together. It gives us license to dance with friends and strangers in public.

At the end of the Maccabeats video, they ask us to listen to the sound of Shabbat. What are we listening for and what role does technology play?

I am lucky enough to live at home with my children, but many fathers do not. For them — including those deployed abroad — the sound of Shabbat may be the ringing of a video chat request from back home. It may be tuning into a livecasted service from a stateside synagogue. For others, it may be the sound of a recorded video from distant grandparents. Or maybe it’s just the sound of Debbie Friedman on Spotify.

Technology isn’t going away. But, as the video reminds us, we are the masters of it and not the other way around. Each of these moments of our life are special — are holy — and deserve technology that respects that.

The burden is on us to continue questioning, to build technologies that help better connect us, and to use technology in ways that make us more human.