CLAL on Culture Archive
Welcome to CLAL on Culture where you will find the latest thoughts and reflections by CLAL faculty and associates on contemporary culture: high and low, material and ethereal, trendy and retro, Jewish and otherwise. Every other week you will find something new on this page.
To access the CLAL on Culture Archive, click here.
The Anthropology of the Cell Phone
By David Kraemer
As I wander through
the streets of the city, watching the endless human traffic that typifies the sidewalks of
Manhattan, I am forced to wonder what long-term effect the cell phone will have on who we
are. I say that “I am forced to
wonder” because the cell phone has become absolutely ubiquitous. On each and every block, one individual after
another blabs away on his or her ever-smaller phone, present in the sidewalk crowd in body
but hardly in spirit. Increasingly rare is
the individual who merely walks from here to there.
(What I say here about the sidewalk could easily be applied, mutatis mutandis,
to those who travel by car and have also taken to spending extended periods of time on
their cell phones.) What do we gain—and
what do we lose—with this drastic change in everyday human experience?
One could argue
that the cell phone facilitates greater human “connectedness.” Whereas it was once, not long ago, impossible to
be in touch except when one was in the vicinity of a “land line,” it is now
rendered possible to converse with one’s friends or loved ones no matter where one
happens to be (the subway is still a notable exception).
If we deem such social contact “good,” then we must acknowledge
the positive contribution of the new cellular technology.
Following this line of reasoning, which emphasizes the relationship
enhancing qualities of the cellular revolution, we might imagine a future (in
technologically advanced societies) in which humans have become more social, more
supportive and, we would hope, more caring. In
this scenario, the cell phone is a genuine blessing.
But I have my
doubts about this picture. It seems to be
that cell phone conversation is not about deep conversations and enhancing relationships
(except to the degree that merely saying “hello” enhances relationships, which I
do not deny). Cellular conversation conducted
in transit is not about serious engagement. If
my hundreds of overhearing experiences are representative, typical cell phone
conversations range from a quick and informative “I am on my way home” to a
time-filling “hey dude, whassup?” (or its gender and culturally translated
equivalent). And if I am correct in judging
that this latter type of exchange is most typical, then the proliferation of cell phone
conversations represents not an urgency to be in touch, but a need to escape being alone
with oneself. In fact, even if the intended
purpose of cell phone dialogue is not such escape, it is nevertheless its inevitable
consequence. And this, I would propose, has
profound implications for our personhood.
Permit me to
explain. Not long ago, the walk across town
or the drive to the mall (if one was alone) was a time to let one’s mind wander. In the space of these minutes, be they few or
abundant, one could “day-dream,” carry on a conversation with oneself, or
respond internally to some ambient stimulation. While
“day-dreaming,” one could travel to far-away places, imagine new projects for
home or work, create playful scenarios for one’s future, or just “veg out,”
that is, let one’s mind rest in a kind of nondescript, meditative state. In the course of an internal conversation, one
could debate with oneself about the best thing to do in this setting or that. One could formulate a memo or write the first
chapter of a book. One could prepare a speech
or argue about politics, all the while taking pleasure in the fact that all of this was
done with oneself. And, intermittently
interrupting these other psychic activities, one might notice a passerby, be inspired by a
nearby vista or elegant architectural ornament, or be disgusted by some filth in the
street. None of this would happen in an
organized or directed fashion. In the space
of a few minutes, one’s mind could go off in all of these directions. Precisely because of its unstructured
quality—like the unstructured play that is so important for children—this time
could restore one’s spirit and could impart the elation of an imaginative journey. Yet this time is becoming rarer and rarer, and I
fear that we will be the poorer for it.
The truth is that
the art and pleasure of solitude are acquired only with practice, yet the times to
practice are being slowly stolen from us. At
work, we don’t have them because we are not supposed to. At home, obligations and, more often, the TV
command our attention, and keep our minds from wandering off. And now, during the time spent between home and
work, during the time in which we used to be left to ourselves, our attention is
increasingly directed to small talk, to talk that, however socially affirming, steals from
us time that we need for ourselves.
What will be the
long-term consequences of the diminution of these unstructured inner experiences? I imagine (will I even be able to do that in the
future?) that we will be less at ease, less creative, less productive and less healthy. We will forget how to be with ourselves and, as a
result, become less adept at being with others. After
all, if we have no time to be alone with, and get to know, our own souls, how can we share
our souls with others? And if serious
relationships require the honest baring of one’s soul, we must predict that intimate
relationships will suffer. Ironically, the
device that seems to enhance relationships may, in the end, harm them. I hope I am wrong.
But what if I am not?
To view other articles by David Kraemer, click here.
To join the conversation at CLAL on Culture Talk, click here.
To access the CLAL on Culture Archive, click here.
To receive the CLAL on Culture column by email on a regular basis, complete the box below:
