We all seem set on accepting a new reality which isn't real, really. I'm not looking forward to it, really. It's just not going to be much fun, really. Our transition into a new social order, brought about initially by amazing advances in convenient (if not invasive) personal communication technology, and then accelerated by the necessity of social isolation (brought about by Covid-19) is going to be far more difficult than we expect.
Mainly because it's not a life. We are social, not social-media, beings. We like (and dislike, in equal measure, probably) each other and we need to mingle and bump into each other, physically and mentally, to size each other up, to decide who we want to get closer to, and who we can't be further enough away from.
As we engage with one another over a screen, we see more and less of each other than we do meeting face to face. We choose (or at least display) the background to the discussion - it's a distraction, no longer neutral, as it used be in a common venue, not so on Zoom, or Teams, or Skype, or whatever other medium of connection you may choose. It's your book shelf, your family photographs, your art versus mine.
Like it or not, your study, or kitchen, or beach house verandah background gives away a bit of who you are (especially if it's artificial) and it factors, mostly subliminally, I guess, into the opinions and weight of whoever's turn it is to speak, or put your hand to electronically - introducing those school classroom dynamics. So over it.
Then there's the constant game of muting voice or blocking video, depending on what you need to do/how interested you are/how many WhatsApp messages you're getting, or how the markets are moving - whatever, all swept under the carpet of pretence or lies that is excused in the name of signal strength or bandwidth preservation. Rubbish.
In one project I'm involved in, the next meeting is going to be "real". Sure, we'll wear masks and keep social distances, but we'll be in the same place, and we'll probably all be wearing shoes. I can't wait to be able to "read the room" again, even if it means I'm also being "read".
I shook hands with an old friend yesterday (after spraying and signing the necessary disclosure and indemnity forms, of course) for the first time in months. We both fumbled past the elbow dance and, after a hesitant start, a hearty handshake followed - it felt good. It was real.
Very little is real anymore.
The correction in the Nasdaq Stock Exchange last week was driven by derivative trades, not fundamental realities. In fact, I've never seen such divergence between happenings in the real economy and movements in the prices of listed shares. No matter how absurd relative valuations become, the machines, the algorithms, kept on buying the online favourites - even beyond the most enthusiastic extrapolations of their worth.
This lack of physical reality is getting into our personal lives, across many dimensions
How would they know?
Be careful. Big machines are stupid, and big machines don't cry.
This lack of physical reality is getting into our personal lives, across many dimensions. Sport is what I miss the most - real, live, atmosphere-driven sport. Full stadiums of obviously-divided-loyalty fans, with the shouts and sighs that foretell and record the ebbs and flows of the game. We're almost back to listening to the radio now, yawn. It's beyond me how it must feel for the players, in front of those empty stands, not to mention the devastating economic effects of no spectators spectator sports - not only on the venues, but on the entire supply chain and related industries. How dull.
I can't wait for the Lions rugby tour, to see our Springboks, our world champions, back in action - jersey on, beer in hand, behaving badly. I'll be there!
We might be able to explore more in the cloud and it definitely saves time not to travel between meetings - no traffic jams is pretty cool. But it's not the same. Going to the mall is an experience beyond the selection of the purchases.
Our world has gotten smaller. No matter how much time you spend surfing the Net; it hasn't the depth or the context that human-interactive discovery has, and it'll neither ever be a worthy substitute nor produce a better result. You must go to Paris to buy fashion.
Fortnite is going to be an Olympic sport - really? How silly. What's next? Why not Sudoku or painting or crosswords or … whatever appeases the masses.
I predict it'll be the end of us, this new normal, this absence of each others' presence. Hanging out doesn't work in the cloud. I won't even get started on fake news and photo shopping and online dating and … virtual reality.
I will not go gently into that place of make believe, of fitting in, of lowest common denominators. I want to live in a world where smell and taste and temperature still matter.
You can't kiss on the Internet, and robots don't know the pleasure of a private giggle, a nudge, or a wink.
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