Recently, my modem crashed, leaving me Web-less, a woeful creature mired in cyber-poverty. Suddenly, I knew what it must be like to grow up in Amazonian isolation, never encountering someone from the world “out there.” Isolated—well, except for family, friends, people in my neighborhood, town, county, and across the country with whom I converse by phone—I felt totally alone.
Not really, of course. But the absence of the Internet did leave a little void in my daily life. I could not, for example, post a blog, check out the latest YouTube video, run around the research communities and science sites online to read the latest on sundry topics, or send an email from the comfort of my desk. But not all was lost. There’s a lesson in every circumstance, even in cyber-poverty.
The loss of the modem taught me a lesson about what I have become: A person who added to an already satisfying and busy life a dependence I didn’t need. Yes, dependence—addictive and often unproductive dependence, a part of life devoted to passivity. That brief Web-less time gave me a chance to re-evaluate through questions:
1. Do I really need to see an indefinite number of YouTube videos that range from “How to solve quadratic equations” to “School board disruption by irate parents” to "The best way to cook a brisket"?
2. Can I really gain knowledge through incessant “new research” posted online that mimics Popular Mechanics in promising a “new future” (as though there were an “old future”) through an unending refinement of gizmos—and do I really want people piloting “flying cars” or driving “fusion cars”?
3. Would I be better off if I didn’t read the news from various countries, most of it focused on negative aspects of humanity?
4. Can I get better enjoyment from an online book or one whose pages I can fill with marginalia?
And other questions. So much ran through my mind when that modem crashed—and it was only for one night.
Not really, of course. But the absence of the Internet did leave a little void in my daily life. I could not, for example, post a blog, check out the latest YouTube video, run around the research communities and science sites online to read the latest on sundry topics, or send an email from the comfort of my desk. But not all was lost. There’s a lesson in every circumstance, even in cyber-poverty.
The loss of the modem taught me a lesson about what I have become: A person who added to an already satisfying and busy life a dependence I didn’t need. Yes, dependence—addictive and often unproductive dependence, a part of life devoted to passivity. That brief Web-less time gave me a chance to re-evaluate through questions:
1. Do I really need to see an indefinite number of YouTube videos that range from “How to solve quadratic equations” to “School board disruption by irate parents” to "The best way to cook a brisket"?
2. Can I really gain knowledge through incessant “new research” posted online that mimics Popular Mechanics in promising a “new future” (as though there were an “old future”) through an unending refinement of gizmos—and do I really want people piloting “flying cars” or driving “fusion cars”?
3. Would I be better off if I didn’t read the news from various countries, most of it focused on negative aspects of humanity?
4. Can I get better enjoyment from an online book or one whose pages I can fill with marginalia?
And other questions. So much ran through my mind when that modem crashed—and it was only for one night.
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