Rise Of The Machines

identity in a post-internet landscape

In the 90’s there was much talk about the danger of video games and whether or not they were going to turn young people into homicidal maniacs. This danger turned out to be false. If there was a danger it wasn’t violence; but apathy. The kind of apathy that comes from treating large amounts of your own time as utterly meaningless. We couldn’t see it back then though because we’d emphasized the effects of the content and downplayed the effect of the medium.

Today I want to talk about how the unnoticed rituals of modern life teach us emptiness.

What is it about post-internet life that facilitates confusion about things as basic as; “Am I really male?”

Life is essentially made up of each of us playing 100 different games simultaneously. Dad, Son, Tire changer, Thermostat checker, Boss, Trash taker, Employee, Leaf blower, Friend, etc. So what happens when the ever progressing technology makes more and more of these analog skills obsolete?

In a recent “Pints With Aquinas” episode, Marc Barnes explores the difference between tools and machines. for him, a tool (let’s use a hammer for example) is a piece of technology that one must master.

It takes us beyond what we can do alone, but it also requires of us the development of a analog skill. This development is a concrete proof of growth. It confirms, not only; that we generative but that life itself is generative. These proofs stack up and inform our identity.

Unlike tools, a machine is a technology which operates without you. There is nothing to learn, nothing to master, you simply go up to it, and ask for it’s help. A tool helps you, a machines replaces you.

Now let’s talk about the social dimension.

Let’s say you’re visiting a friend and their cat enters the room. You might go over pet it; or maybe, after elusively eyeing you down for a hour or so, it might decide that; you’re actually okay after all and come and lay in your lap.

Maybe they just got back from the beach and tell of the old guy who insisted on wearing only a Speedo despite the mirror’s warnings. In return, the group explodes with stories of the beauties and mishaps of vacations gone wrong.

Or maybe; one of their parents just passed away. The air is somber, while people listen and empathize with the pain. No talk fixes everything; but by careful listening and thoughtful questions, you allow your friend to process out loud. At least by letting them talk it out you are able to help them make a tiny bit of sense out of what just happened.

Now, Let’s look at the difference between those three situations as experienced on Facebook:

(Pause for 5 seconds) 👍

(Pause for 5 seconds) ❤️

(Pause for 5 seconds) 😢

The way we interact today flattens all of human experience down to something to be chewed up and spit out. It cheapens us. We are toothless hamsters in a wheel running for more cotton candy.

In his work, G.K. Chesterton once pushed back on the idea that living in a big city “broadened your mind”. His point was that, in a city people actually narrow because the excess of social options allows people to befriend people just like them. In a small town however, one must often interact with people very unlike themselves by necessity.

The internet has not only relieved us from dealing with people who are different, it relieves us of dealing with people at all.

The skills needed to navigate the complex social environments we call “pizza hut” and “work” are slowly being replaced by working from home and DoorDash.

Hookups are easier than breakups and porn is easier than that.

At every turn we’ve traded development for consumption, competence for convenience.

We begin to feel less and less like a complex, unique collection of skills and experiences, and more like a battery for the machines which take care of us. And the more we look away, the more we must look away.

Like survivors on an ever shrinking island, The reason we’re fighting over identity today is because modern life affords so very little of it.