Uh oh! At the familiar, high-pitched voice, my head snaps up from the assignment I am completing half-heartedly and turns to my computer screen. My hand has already moved unconsciously towards the computer's mouse, even before my eyes even make contact with the screen. Sure enough, the sound indicated that a message awaits me, and I double-click on the flashing yellow icon in the bottom right corner of my screen. For almost an hour now, I have been engaged in this conversation over ICQ, an Internet-chat program, with a high school friend who currently attends another university. I am also chatting simultaneously with four other friends about separate topics.
Ever since coming to college, ICQ and email have become my primary methods of keeping in contact with, leaving messages for, and having discussions with my friends. When I meet a person, the first means for establishing future contact is no longer What is your phone number? but rather, What is your email address? which is closely followed by Do you have ICQ? Electronic communication media are not only convenient, but they are economical and allow instantaneous contact. If I initiate an ICQ Chat with one of my friends, I can even save it as a file and replay the conversation with every detail, including the misspellings and corrections.
Information technology has boomed in the last ten years or so. We seem to have landed in the middle of a completely networked world without quite knowing how we got there. Distance no longer inhibits communication, and we have become a world that is better connected.
Or have we? My freshman year college roommate spent his entire freshman year ICQ-ing / IM-ing , and surfing the web. Even when we were sitting in the same room, he always opted to initiate conversation with me through ICQ rather than simply speaking to me directly. Another one of my web-friendly friends, Jeff, spent his sophomore year in college playing an online role-playing computer game almost continuously. When he was not playing the game, he was in a hurry to get back to playing it because he felt like he was missing out as other people were playing, getting more points, and getting ahead. Unable to comprehend his obsession with these virtual friends who were assuming imaginary roles in imaginary worlds, I tried literally to tear Jeff from his computer. My actions nearly destroyed our friendship. The Internet, in the form of a game, had entrapped him within a world which slowly drew him away from the reality around him.
Although few of us become that enthralled with the Internet, we cannot help but admit that it captures our attention with a scary tenacity. An hour can pass by seemingly in the blink of an eye as we respond to email or surf the web. The very technology that expands our access to the world has helped us also to shrink into isolation. Why walk outside when you can experience a virtual 3D world in the comfort of your room with a friend from the electronic chat-room? Why visit the person two floors down, when you can email her or him? We have become satisfied with the worlds that our 17 screens present us. The Internet provides the opportunity for us to meet and to converse with new acquaintances from a range of backgrounds, experiences, and locations. But we will never meet these people face to face, even though we invest hours of our time in these relationships. For a significant number of Americans, these chat-room interactions are slowly replacing real-time friendships. Should we be concerned?
The world of film certainly isn't troubled; in fact, it encourages us to seek companionship through the Internet. In the romantic comedy You've Got Mail, Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, who are both unhappy in their existing relationships, fall in love through emailing and chatting. The movie exploits the mysterious component to a relationship over the Internet, and it conveys the message that if our relationships in our lives fail to satisfy, the solutions can be found through the Internet. In fact, maybe the Love-of-our-Life is waiting at the local chat room for us. And the Internet has even conveniently eliminated the awkwardness of the first blind date.
In being able to buy clothes, groceries, electronics, plane tickets, and just about anything else with the click of a finger while sitting in our favorite chair, isolation from human contact has become a natural and accepted part of our culture and way of life. A cheerful attendant offering to pump gas for me surprises me now, because both his presence and his friendliness are anomalies in the world around us. If the average city-dweller is seeking to exercise, he or she purchases a Walkman and jogs three times a week. Portable electronic devices such as Walkmen, cell phones, laptops, and Palm Pilots themselves promote isolationism. People pull out these devices while waiting in lines or walking to work, and instantly they erect an invisible neon sign shouting, Do NOT Disturb.
We accept and embrace the isolation technology has brought us, but our interpersonal communication skills are suffering depressing consequences, as the need for personal contact decreases. As more and more hackers spend time in front of the computer, the image of the dorky nerd who can program with his hands tied behind his back and his eyes blindfolded, but cannot carry on a normal conversation has also become more prominent. Before I began to receive his 15K emails, I never realized how much my friend David, who is studying Computer Science at Northwestern, had to say. However, in person he can rarely finish a thought or fully convey what he thinks or how he feels. Although the Internet gives people like David an outlet for expression, does it truly help them to better deal with situations where spoken communication is necessary? Perhaps with all the new developments in Internet applications, spoken communication will not be necessary in a few years. We will be able to complete all transactions without ever having to interact with another human being.
In evaluating the impact of this technology, this question inevitably arises: What is the lure of these friendships over the Net? As a semi-introvert, I sometimes choose to eat in front of my computer and chat with friends of friends of friends over ICQ rather than eat with my floor-mates in the kitchen, simply because being with other people requires a lot of energy from me. When I am typing my responses, I have the time to think them over carefully and the opportunity to pace the conversation to my level of comfort.
But perhaps chat rooms, ICQ, and Instant Messenger appeal to a deeper aspect of the human subconscious. Within our minds lives a desire for other people to perceive us in the way we want them to, rather than the way we really are. Just as we manufacture an image for ourselves through clothes, makeup, cars, and even smiles, we can create an image for ourselves though the shield of the Internet, which blocks personal observation through the senses. Other people will see only what we want them to.
As the application possibilities of this technology approach the limitless, we need to decide how much we want our lives to become more entwined within this technology. Without a balance with the reality around us, we may lose ourselves within the virtual world of the Internet. Perhaps driving to the store, picking out groceries, and getting into an argument with the checkout person will do us more good than the half hour we save by grocery shopping through HomeRuns.com.
A little over a week ago, when a virus wiped out my computer, I lost network access in my room. I dreaded the inconveniences I would face before getting my computer fixed. No more ICQ, no more instant email. For a two weeks now, I have needed to check my email in a friend's room, read a newspaper to find out the news and the weather instead of checking cnn.com, and make phone calls in order to locate people instead of ICQing them. As I evaluate these two Internet-less weeks, however, I find that I have had more intellectually stimulating conversations in this week than I have had in the previous month. Who knows? I may resist the desire to fix the connection.
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