The Flight From Conversation: Crashed and Burned

About a month ago, a friend shared an article on Facebook that really touched a nerve.  The piece, titled "The Flight From Conversation," by Sherry Turkle, Psychologist and M.I.T. Professor, was published in The New York Times Sunday Review.  It talked about society's inter-dependence on technology, and how the sanctity of a live conversation has been marred, and often replaced, by a need to stay connected via e-mail, text messaging and social media.   

And no, the irony that this article was shared on Facebook wasn't lost on either of us.  In fact, this "friend" and I had barely known each other until we connected on the internet.  One could make an argument that we still don't know each other today - and while I admit, there are plenty of experiences we haven't had together, hundreds and maybe thousands of things we don't know about each other - I still defend this type of Facebook friendship for giving me a chance to draw on the strength of a support system and sense of community that many of us weren't privy to before the rise of social networks.

"And yet, we have sacrificed conversation for mere connection," Ms. Turkle writes.  But have we really?  The more I reflect on the article, the more defensive I become.  Sacrifice is a complicated concept.  And while I understand the skepticism surrounding the migration of communication, away from constant face to face dialogue, and I can empathize with the reluctance of certain personalities and generations to take part in this type of evolution, I don't feel like I'm sacrificing anything.  In fact, in my world, it's quite the opposite.

While people like Ms. Turkle, my father, my employer, a few friends, make interesting points - I've begun to think too many of us are waging war on electronic and social media, without considering the benefits.  For hundreds and hundreds of years, we've relied on the written word as a form of communication.  At times, even calling it art.  Literature speaks volumes in bringing people together to appreciate the thoughts and feelings and experiences of others.  For people like me, the written word has always been my comfort zone.  As a young person, I got lost in books.  No matter how much conversation was going on around me, I was more comfortable reading and writing.  

I'm not assuming we're all the same.  In fact, I know plenty of people who prefer to talk, who don't like to write, who seem to take nothing away from a book, don't text, and constantly misunderstand even the most succinctly worded e-mail.  There's nothing wrong with people who prefer direct contact.  I'm just asking to consider for a moment, that we aren't all alike.  And that technology is not responsible for the demise of the conversation, but rather, a beacon for those of us who are more comfortable connecting this way, and merely a supplement for those who appreciate the best of both worlds.  Technology is NOT Public Enemy Number 1.  It's just the modern trend in communication, like political movements, freedom of speech, and Rock & Roll.  All of these exemplifying a need to break away from the norm, to find new ways to connect.  And frankly, those of you who choose to stay behind, be my guest.  I'm not condemning the conversation, I'm simply extending my hand in a way that's more natural to me.  I'm inviting you to connect on a level that allows me to express myself more freely.

And I won't deny that the aspect of control is a huge factor in my decision to embrace these forms of communication.  I'm the consummate perfectionist.  I'm amazed at how often I shy away from doing anything, for fear of doing it imperfectly.  I'm drawn to beginnings, the unchanged, the unblemished hope that accompanies anything from the start.  I'm burdened by missteps, by choices, by the narrowing of the path.  I crave the ideal, the novel, the just out of reach.  I'm filled with regret for things that were once new, just begun, still perfect.  Ms. Turkle points out, "Texting and e-mail and posting let us present the self we want to be.  This means we can edit.  And if we wish to, we can delete. Or retouch: the voice, the flesh, the face, the body.  Not too much, not too little - just right."  Excellent point.  Electronic media allows me to present myself in just the right light.  Who I want to be - not just who I've become.  And isn't that how we want to be seen anyway?  Who wants to be loved for his faults?  We want to be loved in spite of them.  Don't we?  We all like to pose with our good side.

"Human relationships are rich; they're messy and demanding," Ms. Turkle declares.  Yes, yes, they are.  And have you ever heard anyone pretend that's the good part?  Of course not.  Relationships are difficult.  People are drawn to one another because of likeness and need.  When you're blood, you have likeness.  When you love, you have need.  When you connect with another person on an intellectual or emotional level, it's because of your ability to recognize a piece of yourself in his soul.  We reach out, because we feel heard, accepted, understood, inspired.  We love because we're validated, embraced.  This ideal isn't one we can uphold, day after day after day.  There are differences that become apparent, presumed likenesses that wind up dismantled.  We cling to one another, for better or worse.  Yes, relationships are messy.  Yes, they're demanding.  Why not communicate in a way that allows us to control our connections?

"We can't get enough of one another if we can use technology to keep one another at distances we can control: not too close, not too far, just right," says Ms Turkle.  Amen.  I've been searching for this all my life.  Let me keep you at arm's length, and still pour out my soul.  Let me share without fear of rejection.  Let me touch you without committing to be touched.  We can be vulnerable without the risk, brazen without the burn.  We can feel connected, without really connecting.  

And that's the problem, isn't it?  The lack of authentic connection?  It's not e-mailing or texting, or social networking that's creating a lack of connection.  The truth is, that's always been there.  I've struggled with it all of my life.  Technology just gives me another means of dealing with it.  The screen becomes a shield, the written word more confident, pre-meditated, unaffected by insecurity and discomfort, lack of faith, disengagement, frustration, fear.  Technology gives us courage to put ourselves out there - if we want to use it. To test the waters, without undue anxiety.  

Lack of connection is imminent.  So many speak of soul mates, and best friends, and the miracles of finding one another.  How many people are truly blessed with this reality?  How many settle?  How many don't even dare to dream?  Instead, we find ways to seek connections.  We use substances to feel brave, we use media to hide behind, we're constantly finding ways to create and recreate ourselves.  We're always coming back to our comfort zones, always looking for the path of least resistance.  Listen to me.  Share with me.  Accept me.  Believe in me.  Isn't that what we all want?

So, stop waging war on e-mailing, text messaging, social networking.  Try to understand that some of us have finally found a comfortable and revealing way to interact, without angst, without judgement, without boundaries.  For some of us, technology has given us a voice.  For some of us, technology has opened up a brave new world, full of friends, full of spirit, full of sustenance.  For some of us, technology is a blessing and a gift, and a means to get and stay connected to a world we couldn't have experienced otherwise.  

"We expect more from technology and less from one another, and seem increasingly drawn to technologies that provide the illusion of companionship without the demands of relationship," Ms. Turkle states.  Really?  I beg to differ.  I expect just as much from people as I always have - and just as much from myself.  The "demands of a relationship" present themselves when we're asked to accept that companionship is often an illusion, and to swallow the discomfort and pain that comes with that realization.  We don't expect less from one another.  We've only just begun to understand our misconceptions.  Technology doesn't provide the illusion of companionship.  Technology allows us to control our relationships, relying more on the true fiber of the connections that brought us together in the first place.  


- L.