Technofobia

Am I about to be hypocritical? Perhaps. I am, after all, a dedicated smartphone user, an avid Skyper, a fellow Facebook addict. And as the time for graduation draws nearer, these are the comforting qualities that I am happy to share with my friends: it just means we can be in touch with each other in ways that people 20 years ago couldn't have dreamed of.

Yet...despite the wonder that technology provokes in me, I cannot help but feel an increasing apprehension for the role it has in our life today. Just the marketing that smartphones and tablets have seems, to me, outrageous. Has everyone seen the ad with the father and son on a camping trip? The father reads Winnie The Pooh to his kid off the tablet (don't even get me started on Kindles and e-books), they look at the constellations through the tablet, the compass is on the device, they light a fake fire on the screen...and I'm thinking, ok, if I were in the middle of the woods I probably would find all these things quite practical. Then the commercial ends and you realise the tent is set up in their backyard. Yay dad, thanks for this amazing adventure--I think we were even able to use the wifi from home to play out here! And have you seen the Samsung Galaxy ads? The one with the on-screen proposal? I'm not saying we should be expecting a candle-lit dinner proposal in this day and age, but I think we can all agree some things are better done in person. And the one featuring our very own town of St Andrews, with the mum getting all the photo updates from his son's travels? What will they talk about once the son gets home if the mum has already seen everything while he was gone?!

You see where I'm going with this: I think technology is not only making us lazy but it also is, paradoxically, belittling social interaction. It seems that by being in touch all the time via all these means, when we actually see each other in person it's just awkward. We already know everything about each other. Don't deny it, we've all been there: you're finally meeting up with that special someone you just met. You ask them what they did that week, but it's a pointless question: the Facebook stalker in you already knows where they were, who with and when that week. But we need to converse, right? Or do we? Families at restaurants don't seem to anymore. I am a little sad when I see parents handing an iPhone or iPad to a child who can barely hold its head up. An Italian newspaper reported that they are now making potty trainers with iPad holders attached to them. Call me crazy, but I would argue it is more important to learn how to deal with your own fecal matter before learning how to use an iPad. 

And then, what if there's a power cut? For real, this isn't just my Mexican paranoia. If your entire house depends on electricity to work, you're screwed. You can't cook if you have one of those fancy induction hobs, you can't even make yourself a coffee if on top of that you have an electric coffee machine. Least of all tea, if you're used to the kettle (or the microwave, as the first-year me used to be).

As much as I love that I am able to instantaneously know everything about my friends, and I can let them know everything about me, using technology, I worry that children today won't grow up learning how to write letters to each other and, by extension, be able to express themselves using full sentences and proper characters. I'm scared that bookcases will become obsolete and that no one will buy paper newspapers anymore. Above all, I'm scared we will all become accustomed to the growing lack of mystery there now is when we meet a new person--all we have to do is look up their name on Facebook or Google. Will we actually become less mysterious as we create and manage our online identities, which need to fit concisely on wall posts, albums or 140 characters?

Call me antiquated, but next year I am going to send letters and postcards to everyone, and I expect to get some too. Or at least an e-mail every now and then--and please don't ask me questions you already know the answer to.