2022-10-17
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I was on a work trip recently. Among the first things my
colleagues did after landing was to buy local sim cards to
"keep in touch". I said I am fine without the internet for a
couple of weeks if it turns out we don't have a wifi at the
remote location we are headed to.
As we traveled there, at some point I asked to borrow their
connection for some work related thing; "Ah! I thought you were
fine without the internet!"
It turns the location does have wifi whenever the electricity
works. As we convene for lunches and dinners, my colleagues are
half the time staring at their phones. It seems they fill the
"awkward silences" with staring at them. For me, the silences are
not awkward since I am used to them, but being the only person
without a phone to look at has a slightly awkward feeling tone to
it. I sit there, with the others zoning out. I remind myself that
boredom is a form of meditation.
- - -
I just read meta4's post about Gowdy's "Ultrasocial". Based on
the post, the book seems to capture the right level of
magnification for our problem as a species, and also for mine
as an individual.
gopher://sdf.org/0/users/mmeta4/Phlog/phlog-2022-10-03.txt
As for the species level, it is there in the post. As for the
individual level, the thing about sitting in a table as the only
person without a phone to stare at is pretty much the perfect
example. It takes some level of self-composure to just sit there,
without caving and picking up the phone yourself, to appear
like you are part of the group, even if being part of the group
means, in this case, to be mutually distancing from each other
by dividing into virtual spaces.
I am old enough to remember the times when dinners were sort of
a sacred family time. It was not ok to bring toys into the table.
I still carry the socialization from those days, and find
it rude that people would distance themselves from the physical
company they are with, especially if at the dinner table.
Personally I value the times I am in a physical space with others
and it is hard for me to see it anything other than devaluing
others if you use that time by being mentally somewhere else.
The most favourable interpretation I can make is that the
ultrasocial need a much higher level of inputs, they have
no capacity for boredom, and become anxious as the input level
falls below some threshold (probably due to their internal
systems starting some input-loop to compensate for the diminished
external inputs).
My archaic view is not coherent with the ultrasocial times we are
in. I am holding my view by choice and in order to keep the peace
I am also supressing my unease with this new social norm. As I am
the exception to the rule, it is easy enough to subtly criticize
me through jokes and such ("Ah, thought you didn't need the
internet?") or point to my difference in other ways.
If you are different, you have to be consciously different,
since you are getting subtle and not so subtle messaging that
is (unconsciously) aimed at pointing you out to others, but
also to yourself. They make it known that they have noticed
you being different.
So, there is the ultrasocial conformity, but there also is the
archaic, nomadic, pre-argicultural free will. This is not the
free will of the individual, mind you. You still need a group,
as a nomad, because the pre-ultrasocial way was still social,
but it was an older form: a mammalian sociality.
You can have this mammalian form of sociality with the people
who are usually ultrasocial, but only while they are plugged out.
Unfortunately, it seems that there is a wake of static that they
carry all the time, and they never let it fizzle out completely.
Like all addicts, they need another hit before they reach zero.
As often the case, I can see that my words stink of megalomania
and self-importance, elevating my own little concerns to the level
of an extintion event. That is the beauty of Gowdy's
"Ultrasocial", as described by meta4: It seems to me that the
intuitive personal level is philosophically coherent with the
largest picture of the mindless hive. My little bubble of free
will is always a part of the economic-cultural-mythic
superstructure, but while it is constrained by it at present time,
it used to exist as a part of the older way, when the
superstructure was not there yet. It is hopeful that this
distinction is identifiable and describable. It is less hopeful
that the level of free will is probably a function of introversion
and a sort of self-containment.
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