Much gratitude is to be given to our devices—those glorious, wonderful tools at our disposal, which grant us capabilities whereof man centuries ago could only have wished, the culmination of years of technology, all combined in a single gadget, be it the size of your lap or hand. What a blessing they are, to be able to connect us to those around the world, to give us access to a preponderance of knowledge, and to give longevity to our lives, allowing us to create narratives and storytell; and yet, how much of a curse they are, those mechanical parasites that latch onto their hosts and deprive them of their vitality, much as a tick does. That phones and computers are indispensable, and further, that social media acts as a necessary sphere that combines the private and public, creating the cybersphere—such is incontrovertible, although they are abused to such an extent that these advantages have been corrupted and have lost their supremacy in the human condition.
Technology is ubiquitous, inescapable, and hardwired into the 21st-century so that it is a priori, given, a simple fact of being whose facticity is such that it is foreign to older generations, who generally disdain it, as opposed to today’s youths, who have been, as Heidegger said, thrown into this world, this technologically dominated world, wherein pocket-sized devices—growing bigger by the year—are everywhere, the defining feature of the age, the zeitgeist, that indomitable force that pervades society, not just concretely, but abstractly, not just descriptive but normative. In being-in-the-world, we Millennials and we of Generation X take technology as it is, and accept it as such. To us, technology is present. It is present insofar as it is both at hand and here, whereby I mean it is pervasive, not just in terms of location but in terms of its presence. A fellow student once observed that we youths are like fish born in the water, whereas older generations are humans born on land: Born into our circumstances, as fish, we are accustomed to the water, while the humans, accustomed to the land, look upon us, upon the ocean, and think us strange, pondering, “How can they live like that?”
As per the law of inertia, things tend to persist in their given states. As such, people, like objects, like to resist change. The status-quo is a hard thing to change, especially when it is conceived before oneself is. To tell a fellow fish, “We ought to live on the land as our fathers did before us”—what an outlandish remark! Verily, one is likely to be disinclined to change their perspective, but will rather accept it with tenacity, to the extent that it develops into a complacency, a terrible stubbornness that entrenches them further within their own deep-rooted ways. This individual is a tough one to change indeed. What is the case, we say is what it ought to be, and so it is the general principle whereupon we take our case, and anyone who says otherwise is either wrong or ignorant. Accordingly, following what has been said, the youth of today, the future of humanity, accepts technology as its own unquestioningly. As per the law of inertia, things tend to persist in their given states—that is, until an unbalanced force acts upon it.
What results from deeply held convictions is dogmatism. A theme central to all users of devices, I find, is guilt; a discussion among classmates has led me to believe that this emotion, deeply personal, bitingly venomous, self-inflicted, and acerbic, is a product of our technological addictions. Addiction has the awesome power of distorting one’s acumen, a power comparable to that of drugs, inasmuch as it compromises the mind’s judiciary faculty, preventing it from distilling events, from correctly processing experiences, and thereby corrupting our better senses. The teen who is stopped at dinner for being on their phone while eating with their family, or the student who claims to be doing homework, when, in reality, they are playing a game or watching a video—what have they in common? The vanity of a guilty conscience—would rather be defensive than apologetic. The man of guilt is by nature disposed to remorse, and thus he is naturally apologetic in order to right his wrong; yet today, children are by nature indisposed thereto, and are conversely defensive, as though they are the ones who have been wronged—yes, we youths take great umbrage at being called out, and instead of feeling remorse, instead of desiring to absolve from our conscience our intrinsic guilt, feel that we have nothing from which to absolve ourselves, imputing the disrespect to they who called us out.
Alas, what backward logic!—think how contrary were it to be if the thief were to call out that poor inhabitant who caught them. Technology has led to moral bankruptcy. A transvaluation of morals in this case, to use Nietzsche’s terminology is to our detriment, I would think. Guilt is a reactionary emotion: It is a reaction formed ex post facto, with the intent of further action. To be guilty is to want to justify oneself, for guilt is by definition self-defeating; guilt seeks to rectify itself; guilt never wants to remain guilty, no; it wants to become something else. But technology has reshaped guilt, turning it into an intransitive feeling, often giving way, if at all, to condemnation, seeking not to vindicate itself but to remonstrate, recriminate, retribute, repugn, and retaliate. Through technology, guilt has gone from being passive and reactive to active and proactive, a negative emotion with the goal of worsening things, not placating them. Digital culture has perpetuated this; now, being guilty and remaining so is seen as normal and valuable. Guilt is not something to be addressed anymore. Guilt is to be kept as long as possible. But guilt, like I said, is naturally self-rectifying, so without an output, it must be displaced—in this case, into resentment, resentment directed toward the person who made us feel this way.
—You disrupt me from my device? Shame on you!—It is no good, say you? I ought get off it? Nay, you ought get off me!—You are foolish to believe I am doing something less important than what we are doing now, together, to think it is I who is in the wrong, and consequently, to expect me to thusly put it away—You are grossly out of line—You know naught of what I am doing, you sanctimonious tyrant!—
When asked whether they managed their time on devices, some students replied quite unsurprisingly that they did not; notwithstanding, this serves as a frightful example of the extent to which our devices play a role in our lives. (Sadly, all but one student said they actually managed their time.) They were then asked some of the reasons they had social media, to which they replied: To get insights into others’ lives, to de-stress and clear their minds after studying, and to talk with friends. A follow-up question asked if using social media made them happy or sad, the answer to which was mixed: Some said it made them happier, some said it made them sadder. An absurd statement was made by one of the interviewees who, when asked how they managed their time, said they checked their social media at random intervals through studying in order to “clear their mind off of things” because their brains, understandably, were tired; another stated they measured their usage by the amount of video game matches played, which, once it was met, signaled them to move onto to something else—not something physical, but some other virtual activity, such as checking their social media account. I need not point out the hypocrisy herein.
I take issue with both statements combined, for they complement each other and reveal a sad, distasteful pattern in today’s culture which I shall presently discuss. Common to all students interviewed was the repeated, woebegone usage of the dreaded word “should”:
—”I should try to be more present”—
—”I should put my phone down and be with my friends”—
—”I should probably manage my time more”—
Lo! for it is one thing to be obliged, another to want. Hidden beneath each of these admissions is an acknowledgment of one’s wrongdoing—in a word, guilt. Guilt is inherent in “shoulds” because they represent a justified course of action. One should have done this, rather than that. Subsequently, the repetition of “should” is vain, a mere placeholder for the repressed guilt, a means of getting rid of some of the weight on one’s conscience; therefore, it, too, the conditional, is as frustrated as the guilt harbored therein.
Another thing with which I take issue is when the two students talked about their means of time management. The first said they liked to play games on their computer, and they would take breaks intermittently by going elsewhere, either their social media or YouTube to watch videos. No less alogical, the other said they would take breaks by checking their social media, as they had just been concentrating hard. How silly it would be for the drug addict to heal himself with the very thing which plagues him! No rehabilitator assures their circle with alcohol; common sense dictates that stopping a problem with that which is the problem in the first place is nonsense! Such is the case with the culture of today, whose drugs are their devices. In the first place, how exactly does stopping a game and checking some other website constitute a “break”? There is no breach of connection between user and device, so it is not in any sense a “break,” but a mere switch from one thing to the next, which is hardly commendable, but foolish forasmuch as it encourages further usage, not less; as one defines the one in relation to the next, it follows that it is a cycle, not a regiment, for there is no real resting period, only transition. Real time management would consist of playing a few games, then deciding to get off the computer, get a snack, study, or read; going from one device to another is not management at all. Similarly, regarding the other scenario, studying on one’s computer and taking a break by checking one’s media is no more effective. One is studying for physics, and after reading several long paragraphs, sets upon learning the vocabulary, committing to memory the jargon, then solving a few problems, but one is thus only halfway through: What now? Tired, drained, yet also proud of what has been accomplished thus far, one decides to check one’s social media—only for 30 minutes, of course: just enough time to forget everything, relax, and get ready to study again—this is not the essence of management; nay, it is the antithesis thereof! No state of mind could possibly think this reasonable. If one is tired of studying, which is justifiable and respectable, then one ought to (not should!) take a real break and really manage one’s time! Social media is indeed a distraction, albeit of a terrible kind, and not the one we ought to be seeking. Checking a friend’s or a stranger’s profile and looking through their photos, yearning for an escape, hoping for better circumstances—this is not calming, nor is it productive. A good break, good time management, is closing one’s computer and doing something productive. Social media serves to irritate the brain even more after exhaustion and is not healthy; instead, healthy and productive tasks, of which their benefits have been proven, ought to be taken up, such as reading, taking a walk, or exercising, among other things: A simple search will show that any of the aforementioned methods is extremely effective after intense studying, and shows signs of better memory, better focus, and better overall well-being, not to mention the subconscious aspect, by which recently learned information is better processed if put in the back of the mind during something else, such as the latter two, which are both physical, bringing with them both physiological and psychological advantages. Conclusively, time management consists not in transitioning between devices, but in transitioning between mind- and body-states.
The question arises: Why is spending too much time with technology on devices a problem in the world? Wherefore, asks the skeptic, is shutting oneself off from the world and retreating into cyberspace where there are infinite possibilities a “bad” thing? Do we really need face-to-face relationships or wisdom or ambitions when we can scroll through our media without interference, getting a window into what is otherwise unattainable? Unfortunately, as with many philosophical problems, including the simulation theory, solipsism, and the mind-body problem, no matter what is argued, the skeptic can always refute it. While I or anyone could give an impassioned speech in defense of life and about what it means to be human, it may never be enough to convince the skeptic that there is any worth in real-world experiences. It is true that one could easily eschew worldly intercourse and live a successful life on their device, establishing their own online business, finding that special person online and being in love long distance—what need is there for the real world, for the affairs of everyday men? Philosopher Robert Nozick asks us to consider the Pleasure Machine: Given the choice, we can choose to either hook ourselves up to a machine that simulates a perfect, ideal, desirable world wherein all our dreams come true, and everything we want, we get, like becoming whatever we always wanted to become, marrying whomever we have always wanted to marry, yet which is artificial, and, again, simulated; or to remain in the real world, where there are inevitable strifes and struggles, but also triumphs, and where we experience pleasure and pain, happiness and sadness—but all real, all authentic. There is, of course, nothing stopping one from choosing the machine; and the skeptic will still not be swayed, but I think the sanctity of humanity, that which constitutes our humanity, ought never be violated.
What, then, is the greatest inhibition to a healthy, productive digital citizenship? What can we do to improve things? The way I see it, the answer is in the how, not the what. Schools can continue to hold events where they warn students of the dangers of technology, advise them on time management, and educate them about proper usage of technology and online presence; but while these can continue ad infinitum, the one thing that will never change is our—the students—want to change. Teachers, psychologists, and parents can keep teaching, publishing, and lecturing more and more convincingly and authoritatively, but unless the want to change is instilled in us, I am afeard no progress will be made. Today’s generation will continue to dig itself deeper into the technological world. They say the first step in overcoming a bad habit or addiction is to admit you have a problem. Like I said earlier, technology just is for us youths, and it always will be henceforth, and there will not be a time when there is not technology, meaning it is seen as a given, something that is essential, something humans have always needed and will continue to need. Technology is a tool, not a plaything. Technology is a utility, not a distraction. Social media is corrupting, not clarifying, nor essential. We have been raised in the 21st-century such that we accept technology as a fact, and facts cannot be disproven, so they will remain, planted, their roots reaching deeper into the soil, into the human psyche. Collectively, we have agreed technology is good, but this is “technology” in its broadest sense, thereby clouding our view of it. We believe our phones and computers are indispensable, that were we to live without them, we would rather die. To be without WiFi—it is comparable to anxiety, an object-less yearning, and emptiness in our souls. How dependent we have become, we “independent” beings! This is the pinnacle of humanity, and it is still rising! Ortega y Gasset, in the style of Nietzsche, proclaimed, “I see the flood-tide of nihilism rising!”¹ We must recognize technology as a problem before we can reform it and ourselves. A lyric from a song goes, “Your possessions will possess you.” Our devices, having become a part of our everyday lives to the extent that we bring them wheresoever we go, have become more controlling of our lives than we are of ourselves, which is a saddening prospect. We must check every update, every message, every notification we receive, lest we miss out on anything! We must miss out on those who care about us, who are right in front of us, in order to not miss out on that brand new, for-a-limited-time sale! But as long as we keep buying into these notification, for so long as we refuse to acknowledge our addictions and the problem before us, we will continue to miss out on life and waste moments of productivity, even if they are for a few minutes, which, when added up at the end of our lives, will turn out to be days, days we missed out on. As my teacher likes to say, “Discipline equals freedom.” To wrest ourselves from our computers or phones, we must first discipline ourselves to do so; and to discipline ourselves, we must first acknowledge our problem, see it as one, and want to change. As per the law of the vis viva (and not the vis inertiæ), things tend to persist in their given states, until its internal force wills it otherwise. We bodies animated with the vis viva, we have the determination and volition to will ourselves, to counter the inertia of being-in-the-world, of being-online, whence we can liberate ourselves, and awaken, so to speak. We, addicts, have no autonomy with our devices—we are slaves to them. Until we break out of our complacency, until we recognize our masters and affirm our self-consciousness thence, and until we take a stand and break from our heteronomy, we will remain prisoners, automata, machines under machines. We must gain our freedom ourselves. But we cannot free ourselves if we do not want to be freed, if we want to remain slaves, if we want to remain in shackles, if we want to plug into the machine. A slave who disdains freedom even when freed remains a slave. Consequently, we cannot be told to stop spending so much time on our devices, to pay attention to whom or what is in front of us; we must want to ourselves. Yet no matter how many times or by whom they are told, today’s youth will never realize it unless they do so themselves. They must make the decision for themselves, which, again, I must stress, must be of their own volition. Until then, it is merely a velleity, a desire to change, but a desire in-itself—nothing more, a wish with no intent to act. It is one thing to say we should spend less time, another that we ought to.
¹Ortega y Gasset, The Revolt of the Masses, p. 54