Technology Disenchantment
by Paul Grimsley
I suppose the shine wears off everything, and technology is no different. After they could build realistic things in digital and meld them with live actors you wanted the acting to then be up to par, and the wow factor wasn’t there so much. I may get lynched by people for saying this, but Avatar wasn’t all that; it takes more than Dances With Wolves in digital drag to win me over. Don’t get me wrong — it was pretty, and it held my attention, but it wasn’t the watershed moment for me that I know it was for others.
The Amazon Echo felt like some real future bleeding through into the present, and I suppose if I had connected up more toys to it maybe I’d be as thrilled to have it in the house. But it doesn’t understand me, so why would I give it control? I play less music on it than I did because it doesn’t get the band names, or won’t play the first album, or gives me a radio station I might like, or, or, or.
And you know what? I can put a CD in the player and press play and it runs. I can turn my light on myself. I can do it quicker. Even if it understood me I wouldn’t necessarily want it interposed between me and every action I need to perform in my house.
I have my phone in my pocket half the time. I barely speak on it. Hardly text on it. Don’t like the little electronic anchor it has become. I don’t like the sense of expectation that it builds in me that I should be contacted frequently by people. I don’t like the weird compulsion to check my social media frequently.
So what do I mainly use it for? As a ride hailer. As a portable game machine. For financial transactions. I use it minimally. It is a large investment for such a backgrounded but necessary piece of technology.
I want a tablet or a phone that generates its own hotspot. I want technology for its functionality, not for the role it wants to play as a filter for my social interactions. And speaking of that — if I am not posting directly into Facebook it makes the posts look very unappealing and bland, and is becoming such a source of bad news, that I don’t want to dip my toe into the sewage; it has become something of a psychic speed bump.
So, what is the solution? I am not a Luddite by any means — my day is more than adequately framed by technology. I think for me since technology became ubiquitous there has been a feeling that it should be a luxury and not a necessity.
Many things in the digital sphere occupy a similar place for me. Triggered responses and algorithms are fine to drive the cattle around, but the real thing for anyone working in marketing or sales is to build relationships. We can lose sight of the human in the mix, and its importance, and that is a misstep. The lure of the new and shiny can make you think that the tried and tested is dead and done, but traditional means of doing things lasted for as long as they did because they work, and that doesn’t just evaporate the moment something novel enters the scene.
Facebook is a tool to enhance and work alongside what you already do. Google and all its tools are not a replacement for the human being at the core of the whole process. If you are looking to flip a switch and automate everything you are missing the point, and forgetting the importance of the human as the driving force behind it all.
Same thing in the home. The home is your environment, and having all these things turned on all the time isn’t necessarily the best thing. Being connected and plugged in all the time starts to feel like a state of disconnection from real things. In a science fiction story the really compelling thing is always the human story. If you were to watch a film where the focus was just the product and there was no human element it would not resonate with you as much. Despite what Elon says about needing to integrate with machines as a necessary way to be involved in the evolving world, I think the really important thing is to remember that we are human, and that is the most important thing.