If you’re reading this and your cell phone is more than ten feet away from you, you’re among the minority.
Imagine you’re in the doctor’s office, or waiting for an interview, or even outside a class before it starts and you reach for your cell phone. It’s that hand-held safety blanket. It gives you an outlet to social interaction that doesn’t require more effort than lifting your thumbs. It often feels like a life saver in uncomfortable situations, but it’s the easy way out and it’s important we realize that.
As with any revolutionary piece of technology, the cell phone went from nonexistent to household in a short time span. In its most basic form, it gives you instant contact with the entire world, and with smart phones, even more so. This is not inherently a bad thing. It’s completely changed the world, and the ways in which cell phone technology positively affect our lives probably do outweigh the negatives. This is not an argument against cell phones, only a petition to consider how and when we use them.
I spoke with Veronika Jonsson, a fifth year architecture student at the UO. Last November she spent a month without a cell phone, and the experience impacted her in unexpected ways. She didn’t describe it like a month without a TV or a car, but more like a month with a broken leg and no crutch. Jonsson saw it as an opportunity to reevaluate herself and her relationships and she realized a lot during the experience.
“You don’t have something to check all the time to assure you that you’re important or to assure you that someone out there wants you, needs you, or is there for you,” she said.
The constant communication conditions us to need the affirmation that we aren’t alone. But that’s the real issue that we’ve forgotten: it’s alright to be alone. The constant stimulus of the smart phone generates reaction after reaction from us all day, and it hinders self-awareness. As Jonsson aptly put it,“You’re constantly engaging with others and not necessarily with yourself and how you feel.”
Of course we should be connected to others, empathy is a wonderfully human trait. In contrast, the connections we maintain over text message and Facebook aren’t real human interaction but are instead meticulously manufactured.
Rereading a text six times before you send it is cheating, and as a result we lose the imperfection of personal interaction. It’s flawed and it can be difficult, but physically connecting with a person in the moment isn’t a feeling that can be recreated through a device. “I’ve always preferred face to face. I always prefer seeing them,” said Jonsson.
It isn’t just the preexisting relationships that we are affecting, however. We’re more disconnected from strangers than we have ever been.
As a generation, constant cell interaction makes us aloof, to the point that we live in our own worlds. “It’s harder to broach people or to break that barrier. I can’t remember the last time I just said hello to a stranger,” said Jonsson.
It’s easy to find something in common with the other guy in the waiting room, if you make the effort to approach him. We may not all live similar lives, but we’re all people. This innate commonality is fascinating, and it’s something we should cherish.
The art of the conversation is being lost. Oftentimes people are visibly uncomfortable when you strike up a conversation. They are so unaccustomed to speaking with someone unknown that they go out of their way to avoid it. Those are missed opportunities.
Every single one of us has a complex and completely unique story, and sometimes we forget that. Caring about all the other thoughts and feelings around us isn’t easy, but it’s worth trying.
Maybe the next time you’re waiting outside class, ask the tired looking girl in front of you how her day has been. Show someone that you care about their life enough to put down your phone, and speak with a stranger.