In The Air

Reading articles that pose the question "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" reminds me of conversing with my loving but skeptical older relatives.  They often suggest that my generation's technological advancements are not a step forward but two steps back.  Before uttering a response, I consider the fact that their paradigms were not framed or influenced by iTunes, Facebook, Twitter, or the like; to them, the Internet is an amorphous, daunting "boogie man" whose existence they downplay in order to ensure their survival.  And honestly, I cannot blame them.

Most of my generation is unique in that we did not immediately immerse ourselves in the cornucopia of information and hoopla that is the World Wide Web.  For me, my early childhood had the flavor of any normal child:  I spent my days attending school, playing outside, eating PB&J sandwiches, visiting family, taking piano lessons, and so on.  A computer did not enter my home until around 1998, and even then it was locked in my parent's office downstairs and designated a "business machine."  So I write now from the perspective of someone with a decade-or-so's experience with the Internet.  

Thompson takes the half-filled glass approach, citing that "The first thing [discovered] is that young people today write far more than any generation before them... Of all the writing that the Stanford students did, a stunning 38 percent of it took place out of the classroom—life writing, as Lunsford calls it. Those Twitter updates and lists of 25 things about yourself add up."  Here, Thompson shows that, regardless of context, the young-ins' have more physical experience under their belt in terms of composition than their parents did.  And before you can ask about the 38% that is responsible for this:

author Clay Shirkey admits the obvious fact that, along with any advancements in technology and social interaction, "The present is, as noted, characterized by lots of throwaway cultural artifacts...there is [a lot of dumb stuff], just as there is lots of dumb stuff in bookstores." The same critique shows up in music, in art, and across other disciplines as well.  The absence of perfection warrants the harshest of criticism when, in actuality, the goal is not perfection but legacy.  Shirkey goes on to write that "The issue is whether there are any ideas so good today that they will survive into the future."  Automobiles?  Ice cream?  Pass.  Asbestos?  Pet rocks?  Not so much.

Of course, being a rebellious youth, I rally against Shirkey's opponents and agree with author in that "the past was not as the rosy past of the pessimists was not, on closer examination, so rosy."  All generations have their steps forward and their steps backward; the key is sifting through the noise to find the steps that lead to the future.  That is to say that the Internet is not the definitive Alpha and Omega of innovation, but rather it is part of a movement that welcomes innovations on all fronts and from all sources.  It is wild yet domesticated, grounded yet free-wheeling, restricted yet unchained.  On one hand, there are the Anime forums, the Twilight chat rooms, and so on, that exist solely for purposes of entertainment or general nonsense.  On the other hand, there are the  scholarly online institutions which take advantage of this proliferation of information such as JSTOR, NAXOS, and offer to make sense of the Net's "white noise."  

If nothing else, the hectic pacing of the Internet generation is not something with which to trifle.  Apple churned out a new iPhone every year starting in 2007, clearly reflecting the demand for instant access to the information highway.  Apps multiplied on phones and desktops, further enhancing the user's online productivity and enjoyment.  Social networking became commonplace, starting with websites such as MySpace and Facebook and developing into more media-interactive sites such as Instagram and Tumblr.     

But is this all a good thing?

Prolonged exposure to the digital frontier has, as author Nicholas Carr writes, "[chipped] away [our] capacity for concentration and contemplation."  Tasks that once interested people (e.g. reading Moby Dick, translating Shakespeare's Richard III into Swahili, etc.) are more difficult and less common.  Even now, I admit that I am tempted to sum up my writing in order to watch Series 3 of Sherlock and devour a package of Peanut Butter M&M's.  However, Shirkey provides the appropriate response to such notions when he writes, "We are now witnessing the rapid stress of older institutions accompanied by the slow and fitful development of cultural alternatives."  As old school methods become intertwined with new ones, the flaws and bumps are certain to appear.  The lines on the map are overlapping, and as both empires try to expand, they begin to run out of room.

I find it difficult to choose a definitive sides in the ongoing war of Internet's advances against the traditional status quo.  One cannot argue with the progress that has occurred due to the exponentially increased output of data, but for some, its adverse effects have taken their toll.  Will Machiavellian reasoning prevail?  I cannot say for certain.  For the time being, the Internet, in all its digital glory, is here to stay; so it is, and so it shall be.