To LoL or not to LoL?

I’ve been thinking a lot about productivity and our reliance on technology recently. Due to an electrical problem last week, I had no internet, cable TV, or a functioning landline for three days. (The first five minutes were the worst. I was basically in the fetal position moaning for my Project Runway fix).

As I pulled myself off the floor, I realized that, as some friends also noted, it was the perfect chance to be like my literary buddy Thoreau. Granted, I was a Thoreau with indoor plumbing, electricity, a still-functioning DVD player, a computer, and a car … but, on the other hand, I had no pond to hear my thunderous yawp and no woods to wander through to inspire some of the most eloquent reflections on nature America has ever read. (Some people would consider that comparison a draw…)

It was an especially interesting opportunity for me. Over the years, I have been mercilessly teased by various people about the sheer amount of time I spend on the net (and from those who know me well – watching endless repeats of my favorite shows on TV). If I just stopped reading about those cats who lol and posting articles on Facebook, they reason, I would be able to write that novel or go to bed earlier or read French (Bonjour mon amie!) or whatever else they feel is more worthwhile. Talking on AIM is too distracting and makes you work slower than you are capable of, they say, or I don’t go on the internet when I go home and my life is better for it! I hear. But mostly, aside from the Charlie Brown voices I use to cover their accurate assessments, I realize that all of them are essentially saying the same thing – we’d be better off without technology!

Now that this small, unintentional experiment is over, I was surprised to see that I was not more productive. If anything, I spent more time figuring out how to do things without the fast speed of the internet (and without James Roday on Psych to help me have sweet dreams). Simple emails that would set my plans were replaced by (albeit delightful) 30-minute long cell conversations. I had to use a phone book to look up an address. I had trouble working on my syllabus because I couldn’t pull up the school calendar online. I’m not alone in that realization. James Strurm, a columnist for Slate Magazine who has gone four months without the internet found rather similar results. While we are addicted to our internet, being without it doesn’t necessarily mean that our lives will automatically be better or more productive.

For me, that was a bit of a revelation. When I read biographies of writers before the modern technological era that I am mystified by the sheer amount of work they leave behind. Consider Anthony Trollope, for example, who not only wrote seemingly hundreds of books that, when combined, weigh more than seven President Tafts and their bathtubs combined, but also managed to hold down a full-time job as a postal clerk. Or what about an earlier writer like Samuel Richardson, who wrote Pamela and Clarissa (the latter of which took several cocktails and several months to finish because the font was so small)?

These examples are impressive, no doubt. But I haven’t even mentioned that most authors, no matter the number of volumes published, were prolific letter writers who managed to be insightful even in their everyday correspondence. (It’s a good day if I even bother to use capital letters and proper punctuation in routine email.) Let’s not also forget that they spoke multiple languages even as children, could accurately quote their extensive reading, and were probably in better physical shape than the vast majority of people today. Frankly, I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

Have we just gotten dumber, slower, and lazier by comparison? (If we’re basing it solely on reality show contestants, then yes, a thousand times yes.) Some critics have argued that these writers had shorter life expectancies so every day was “carpe diem” day so to speak. But I don’t necessarily know if that’s the only reason.

In thinking about my weekend, I’ve reached a few, incredibly unscientific conclusions.

Those people who bemoan the internet/all the tech advancements could change their perspective. There’s not going to be a movement where we destroy everything that has been created and forget all the things we have accepted as the status quo (why give up the ability to play Scrabble online?) Doing so would only set society back to a new Dark Ages. Instead, rather than comparing ourselves to the past, we need to see what values/skills have emerged and embrace those.

For example, we’ve got a breadth, but not necessarily a depth of knowledge today, much of which can be accessed at our fingertips, unsurpassed by those writers of the past. (Could Shakespeare perform CPR like I can as I renewed my certification on Sunday? Would Hawthorne be able to set up my internet like the nice Comcast guy did?) We are called upon to be more adept and skilled in multiple ways that most of those writers could even dream.

With these new fields of knowledge, some of the people who may have been philosophers or writers or critics in the past now have the chance to be on the cutting-edge of future technologies, some of which may save lives or improve our lifestyles. Our brilliance hasn’t diminished -- it’s simply being dispersed and disseminated in new ways. On the other hand, in terms of our stupidity, we’ve simply made it more readily available and more thoroughly documented through these technological avenues. There has always been an undercurrent of society, but today it is more prevalent through the idea that anyone can share their desires online in the comments section on a news site or on a reality TV show.

However, from a personal perspective, I also do realize that some sort of balance is needed to help us feel more productive. We are still in the beginning of the computer revolution and figuring out what to make of all the possibilities, but haven’t quite figured out the side-effects of a multi-tasking, sedentary and solitary life (look at the Industrial Revolution – slowly we figured it out that it was causing pollution and debilitating workers).

Without technology this weekend, I didn’t turn into a snarling animal nor did I become a brilliant scholar. I just noticed that I stopped relying on technology and turned back to myself – for knowledge, for entertainment, and for insights (without input from the Facebook peanut gallery), as anyone of any generation would do. Thoreau went into the woods to find himself away from society, but as our culture moves away from the neighborhoods and onto the information highways, we can find a slower pace quite easily -- simply get into areas without internet service to embrace the quiet. (Not that I would ever be against exploring the natural world, but that is another day, another post.)

I also realized we have a tendency to sell ourselves short. We are so focused on crossing things off our list (most of which are inconsequential in the long run), that we don’t let things grow organically out from our own interests, thus ensuring better quality work. Nor do we see personal growth or time spent in reflection as productive. Think about it – my online conversations with friends serve essentially the same purpose as those lengthy letters. We are trying to deepen our relationships and also expand our understanding of the world around us, through the help of our friends. My time online can be productive in ways I haven’t figured out yet because they are still fermenting – I figure so long as I’m reading articles or talking to friends, I am improving myself.

However, previous generations knew more about how to wade through the muck and find what mattered, because there were fewer necessities or options that demanded their time. After all, when I’m really focused, the music, the TV, the internet all melt away and I can do what I would like to get done. But it’s a luxury to do what I love – no matter how in/efficiently I work because there is that societal view that with all these great new technologies comes even more meetings, paperwork, and protocols to complete first. In other words, we’re tired before our real work of the human soul has even begun to be uttered, thought, or even written down. We just want to survive through the muck by making it more enjoyable through online or televised distractions.

So, rather than bemoan that humans are better off without technology, we should be asking the question, What is really important to us as a society and how can we focus on that instead?

But until that question becomes asked and answered with greater frequency, you’ll have to excuse me if I let myself coast on the information superhighway. I’ve got some lolcats to visit.