Hamid A. Campbell
Dr. Adam Johns
ENGCMP 0200
03.03.2009
Depersonalization
In 1999, I was a mere third-grader growing up in Washington, DC. I had used the Internet only minimally, as my parents did not believe in having nine-year olds surfing the worldwide web, and I had never even heard of a cellular phone. My parents severely restricted my television-watching privileges, and I never quite understood this. It was actually pretty frustrating when I went to school and listened to my friends discuss the new Jay-Z video or the latest episode of their favorite television shows, and I had not a thing to contribute to the conversation. However, I had a pretty happy childhood, despite the absence of the luxuries that most children and teenagers enjoy. I now realize that my parents were trying to prevent me from getting lost in the dangerously isolative whirlwind that is technology.
In the last decade, technological advancement has experienced many drastic and revolutionary changes. We now live in such a time in which the average person owns both a personal computer and a cellular phone. It is perfectly within the scope of possibility to use these devices to quickly send a message to a friend, or chat with a family member via live video feed. Despite the ease with which these technologies allow us to communicate with our family and friends who are hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of miles away, it seems as if we are losing our sense of community.
This may initially seem counterintuitive. One might conclude that being able to video chat in Los Angeles with a friend who is in New York would enhance the strength of human communication. However, I observe the opposite effect. I feel that technological methods of communication depersonalize human relationships. Maybe I’m just a little old-fashioned, but I feel that something is lost when I receive a text message from a friend. I would much rather have seen my friend say this to me, to see how they would have physically conveyed this message. I would have liked to have seen his or her facial expression. At the very least, I would have liked a phone call to relay this message. If the message was sent to me in text form, it probably wasn’t that important anyway, was it?
I feel that we are losing the personalization of the human relationship, and the beauty of communication is going down the drain. I find it interesting when my friends tease me for not having a Facebook account. Most American high school and college students are quite familiar with this networking service that allows you to view your friends’ personal information and view photos and blog entries. I have never really felt the need to post all of my personal information on the Internet for the entire world to see, nor have I ever felt the need to find new ways to connect to my friends and family. The people that I actually care to speak to frequently I can easily just pick up the phone and call, or if they’re close enough, go see. My friends and family remember my birthday without the “Facebook reminder.”
I also feel that excessive use of alternative forms of communication cause people to become anti-social. Almost every day, I call one of my best friends in the world that lives in College Park, Maryland. We usually talk for about two to three hours at a time, and most of the time I’m completing homework or reading, trying my best to be productive. However, whenever I ask her what she’s doing, her answer is most often, “sitting on Facebook.” Yes, she sits and stares at her Facebook homepage, waiting to receive a message or a notification. What does this accomplish? Twenty years ago, when people didn’t have Facebook (or better yet, the Internet), people actually spoke to one another. People had relationships that were based on verbal communication. Somewhere along the line, we lost that, along with the meaning of personal relationships.
In his graphic novel Jimmy Corrigan: the Smartest Kid on Earth, Christopher Ware introduces us to a character that has no connection to the outside world. Jimmy Corrigan is a lonely, unhappy loser who seems to only have a relationship with his overbearing mother and his imagination. He is awkward, as he has trouble effectively communicating with those other than his mother, and his constantly pathetic facial expression lacks any signs of happiness and satisfaction. It seems as if we are all headed this route. We are heading into a world where everyone has only two relationships: one with their cellular phone inbox, and one with their computer. As Bill McKibben states in his book Enough, we are trapping ourselves inside of a world where “consumption is all that happens” and “nothing else means anything” (McKibben, 2003).
Bill McKibben, of course, tackles the issue of meaninglessness from a more scientific standpoint. He writes that genetic engineering might signal a shift in the meaning of humanity. Whereas accomplishment once signified achievement, McKibben argues that one day the accomplishment gene will simply be placed in our children, thereby eliminating the meaning of the very accomplishments that once made us shine with pride. For example, if one were implanted with a gene that increased one’s IQ by 300 points, would scoring a 1600 on the SAT really mean anything? Furthermore, if everyone’s IQ were increased by 300 points, the new average would become 400, and we would just end up where we left off.
Before we continue to change the way that humans communicate with one another, we must first step back and ask ourselves whether this change is worth it. Are we willing to lose our collective meaning to satisfy our need for more? Is a new networking website, or a new messaging device really going to make us happier, or can we find some other way to rediscover the personalization that human relationships once had?
Works Cited
McKibben, B. (2003). Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered Age. New York: Owl Books.
Dr. Adam Johns
ENGCMP 0200
03.03.2009
Depersonalization
In 1999, I was a mere third-grader growing up in Washington, DC. I had used the Internet only minimally, as my parents did not believe in having nine-year olds surfing the worldwide web, and I had never even heard of a cellular phone. My parents severely restricted my television-watching privileges, and I never quite understood this. It was actually pretty frustrating when I went to school and listened to my friends discuss the new Jay-Z video or the latest episode of their favorite television shows, and I had not a thing to contribute to the conversation. However, I had a pretty happy childhood, despite the absence of the luxuries that most children and teenagers enjoy. I now realize that my parents were trying to prevent me from getting lost in the dangerously isolative whirlwind that is technology.
In the last decade, technological advancement has experienced many drastic and revolutionary changes. We now live in such a time in which the average person owns both a personal computer and a cellular phone. It is perfectly within the scope of possibility to use these devices to quickly send a message to a friend, or chat with a family member via live video feed. Despite the ease with which these technologies allow us to communicate with our family and friends who are hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of miles away, it seems as if we are losing our sense of community.
This may initially seem counterintuitive. One might conclude that being able to video chat in Los Angeles with a friend who is in New York would enhance the strength of human communication. However, I observe the opposite effect. I feel that technological methods of communication depersonalize human relationships. Maybe I’m just a little old-fashioned, but I feel that something is lost when I receive a text message from a friend. I would much rather have seen my friend say this to me, to see how they would have physically conveyed this message. I would have liked to have seen his or her facial expression. At the very least, I would have liked a phone call to relay this message. If the message was sent to me in text form, it probably wasn’t that important anyway, was it?
I feel that we are losing the personalization of the human relationship, and the beauty of communication is going down the drain. I find it interesting when my friends tease me for not having a Facebook account. Most American high school and college students are quite familiar with this networking service that allows you to view your friends’ personal information and view photos and blog entries. I have never really felt the need to post all of my personal information on the Internet for the entire world to see, nor have I ever felt the need to find new ways to connect to my friends and family. The people that I actually care to speak to frequently I can easily just pick up the phone and call, or if they’re close enough, go see. My friends and family remember my birthday without the “Facebook reminder.”
I also feel that excessive use of alternative forms of communication cause people to become anti-social. Almost every day, I call one of my best friends in the world that lives in College Park, Maryland. We usually talk for about two to three hours at a time, and most of the time I’m completing homework or reading, trying my best to be productive. However, whenever I ask her what she’s doing, her answer is most often, “sitting on Facebook.” Yes, she sits and stares at her Facebook homepage, waiting to receive a message or a notification. What does this accomplish? Twenty years ago, when people didn’t have Facebook (or better yet, the Internet), people actually spoke to one another. People had relationships that were based on verbal communication. Somewhere along the line, we lost that, along with the meaning of personal relationships.
In his graphic novel Jimmy Corrigan: the Smartest Kid on Earth, Christopher Ware introduces us to a character that has no connection to the outside world. Jimmy Corrigan is a lonely, unhappy loser who seems to only have a relationship with his overbearing mother and his imagination. He is awkward, as he has trouble effectively communicating with those other than his mother, and his constantly pathetic facial expression lacks any signs of happiness and satisfaction. It seems as if we are all headed this route. We are heading into a world where everyone has only two relationships: one with their cellular phone inbox, and one with their computer. As Bill McKibben states in his book Enough, we are trapping ourselves inside of a world where “consumption is all that happens” and “nothing else means anything” (McKibben, 2003).
Bill McKibben, of course, tackles the issue of meaninglessness from a more scientific standpoint. He writes that genetic engineering might signal a shift in the meaning of humanity. Whereas accomplishment once signified achievement, McKibben argues that one day the accomplishment gene will simply be placed in our children, thereby eliminating the meaning of the very accomplishments that once made us shine with pride. For example, if one were implanted with a gene that increased one’s IQ by 300 points, would scoring a 1600 on the SAT really mean anything? Furthermore, if everyone’s IQ were increased by 300 points, the new average would become 400, and we would just end up where we left off.
Before we continue to change the way that humans communicate with one another, we must first step back and ask ourselves whether this change is worth it. Are we willing to lose our collective meaning to satisfy our need for more? Is a new networking website, or a new messaging device really going to make us happier, or can we find some other way to rediscover the personalization that human relationships once had?
Works Cited
McKibben, B. (2003). Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered Age. New York: Owl Books.
3 comments:
Hey Anthony,
I enjoyed reading this essay. Your argument was clear and you covered it so well that it was difficult for me to oppose.
There are a few things that I am not clear about though.
After reading your essay it was easy to conclude that you believe community and communication are connected. I also took away that technology depersonalizes a relationship and a face to face conversation personalizes a relationship.
Do you always think this is true, or do you think that some technology is necessary? Does communication only build community if it is face to face? Is communicating digitally o.k. as long as it is not taken to an extreme?
In the third paragraph you say that a text message is usually less important than a phone call, and that a phone call is less important than a face to face conversation. Wouldn't the improved methods of communication such as video chats, bring us one step closer to a face to face conversation?
I also think that in the third paragraph, you should elaborate on what you think is lost when using digital communication. Or is the expression on one's face all that is lost?
In the 6th paragraph, I wonder why you believe that we are all headed down the path that Jimmy Corrigan took. As you said, Jimmy had no connection to the world. Do you believe that we are all disconnecting ourselves solely by communicating digitally? If you do, then you should back this statement up. If not, then I don't see how this paragraph really relates to your argument.
Another point that you bring up is that if everybody's IQ increased by 300 points, we would end up right where we left off. While I agree that proportionately, everything would be the same, isn't it true that people in general would be a lot more intelligent?
My last comment pertains to the last paragraph.
You continuously oppose the use of technology in communication in your essay, claiming that it is destroying our sense of community. I think that a strong closing statement is more suitable here than a question to the reader. While ending a paper with a question can be effective, in this situation I think that it would be more beneficial to end with a statement.
Hamid A. Campbell
Dr. Adam Johns
ENGCMP 0200
03.09.2009
Depersonalization
In 1999, I was a mere third-grader growing up in Washington, DC. I had used the Internet only minimally, as my parents did not believe in having nine-year olds surfing the worldwide web, and I had never even heard of a cellular phone. My parents severely restricted my television-watching privileges, and I never quite understood this. It was actually pretty frustrating when I went to school and listened to my friends discuss the new Jay-Z video or the latest episode of their favorite television shows, and I had not a thing to contribute to the conversation. However, I had a pretty happy childhood, despite the absence of the luxuries that most children and teenagers enjoy. I now realize that my parents were trying to prevent me from getting lost in the dangerously isolative whirlwind that is technology.
In the last decade, technological advancement has experienced many drastic and revolutionary changes. We now live in such a time in which the average person owns both a personal computer and a cellular phone. It is perfectly within the scope of possibility to use these devices to quickly send a message to a friend, or chat with a family member via live video feed. Despite the ease with which these technologies allow us to communicate with our family and friends who are hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of miles away, it seems as if we are losing our sense of community.
This may initially seem counterintuitive. One might conclude that being able to video chat in Los Angeles with a friend who is in New York would enhance the strength of human communication. However, I observe the opposite effect. Communicating digitally becomes an issue when it removes the personal connection and from a human relationship. I feel that excessive use of technological methods of communication depersonalize human relationships. Maybe I’m just a little old-fashioned, but I feel that something is lost when I receive a text message from a friend. I would much rather have seen my friend say this to me, to see how they would have physically conveyed this message. I would have liked to have seen his or her facial expression. At the very least, I would have liked a phone call to relay this message. If the message was sent to me in text form, it probably wasn’t that important anyway, was it? I admit that I sometimes text message friends to relay minor messages that do not require a phone call, such as “where are we meeting?” or “what time should I pick you up?” But when I’ve had a two-hour conversation with a friend, it would be nice to have heard his or her voice at least once.
I feel that we are losing the personalization of the human relationship, and the beauty of communication is going down the drain. I find it interesting when my friends tease me for not having a Facebook account. Most American high school and college students are quite familiar with this networking service that allows you to view your friends’ personal information and view photos and blog entries. I have never really felt the need to post all of my personal information on the Internet for the entire world to see, nor have I ever felt the need to find new ways to connect to my friends and family. The people that I actually care to speak to I can easily just pick up the phone and call, or if they’re close enough, go and see. My friends and family remember my birthday without the “Facebook reminder.”
I also feel that excessive use of alternative forms of communication cause people to become anti-social. Almost every day, I call one of my best friends in the world that lives in College Park, Maryland. We usually talk for about two to three hours at a time, and most of time I’m completing homework or reading, trying my best to be productive. However, whenever I ask her what she’s doing, her answer is most often, “sitting on Facebook.” Yes, she sits and stares at her Facebook homepage, waiting to receive a message or a notification. What does this accomplish? Twenty years ago, when people didn’t have Facebook (or better yet, the Internet), people actually spoke to one another. People had relationships that were based on verbal communication. Somewhere along the line, we lost that, along with the meaning of personal relationships.
In Jimmy Corrigan: the Smartest Kid on Earth, Christopher Ware introduces us to a character that has no connection to the outside world. Jimmy Corrigan is a lonely, unhappy loser who seems to only have a relationship with his overbearing mother and his imagination. He is awkward, has trouble effectively communicating with those other than his mother, and his constantly pathetic facial expression lacks any signs of happiness and satisfaction. It seems as if we are all headed this route. We are heading into a world where everyone has only two relationships: one with their cellular phone inbox, and one with their computer. As Bill McKibben states in his book Enough, we are trapping ourselves inside of a world where “consumption is all that happens” and “nothing else means anything” (McKibben, 2003).
Before we continue to change the way that humans communicate with one another, we must first step back and ask ourselves whether this change is worth it. Are we willing to lose our collective meaning to satisfy our need for more? Is a new networking website, or a new messaging device really going to make us happier, or can we find some other way to rediscover the personalization that human relationships once had? I think that the answer lies in loosening the hold that technology has on us. If we all spent a little less time worrying about the newest cell phones, a little less time watching television, or a little less time “sitting on Facebook,” we could once again reestablish relationships based upon personal connection and communication, lifting ourselves from the hole of isolation that technology has dug for us.
Works Cited
McKibben, B. (2003). Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered Age. New York: Owl Books.
Evan - very good response.
Anthony - Your opening anecdote is interesting, but maybe a little short; I'm not really clear on whether you consider your childhood restrictions to be, ultimately, a loss or a gain.
I would honestly have liked a definition of depersonalization. Maybe its meaning seems obvious, but I think it's actually pretty hard to pin down, and that pinning it down would have helped you explain what is lost with fancier forms of communication (consider the alternative, for instance, of not communicating with distant people at all, or perhaps only by letter -- is that more "personal?" Maybe it is - after all, there was a time when people traveled and moved very little relative to now...).
Let me mention another counterargument. I liked your discussion of your friend and facebook, and I'm sure many people can relate to it. But implicit here is the idea that phone conversations are personal and facebook is impersonal. Couldn't a previous generatoin have made the same claims about phone calls? I'll also point out that when I was in college, starting in 1997, I couldn't afford to make more than a handful of phone calls, because prices were so dramatically higher than they are now. What's lacking in this paper, in other words, is an attempt to think of our historical moment in relationship to others. Have we gained or lost relative to the 1930s? The 1830s? Etc.
In short - there's a lot of good writing here, and you're articulating something that many people feel about our moment in history. But your actual ideas of what constitute "personal" and "impersonal" are very unclear to me, because you aren't relating them to other times or places in any coherent way. How, in other words, *should* be do things?
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