COLUMN: Give 'em the Finger

From Craig Rutenberg's "The Spiral Light of Venus," Spring '94 From Craig Rutenberg's "The Spiral Light of Venus," Spring '94In this age of AIDS awareness and safe sex, "fingering" has gained new popularity. Just yesterday my housemate spent hours in my room fingering a girl. They spent awhile together, but in eventually I told him to get his "logout." He preferred to get his "logoff." In order to use e-mail, one must first turn on a computer, and load a program which automatically dials a phone. Rather than just dialing seven numbers, we execute an elaborate ritual which allows us to actually avoid speaking with the person we are contacting. This in turn allows us to ask only the questions we want answered, and divulge only the information we want known. Unix has replaced unity. Instead of human contact there are phone links. It is only natural that intercourse will soon become interface -- the point which a human can satisfy all of his or her own needs without any contact with others (for some this may be an easy transition). But e-mail is only the latest trend. Before technology one had to attend public concerts to hear music performed. Then the phonograph was invented. Eventually record players evolved into home stereos -- quality sound reproduction could be enjoyed with only personally chosen guests. Technology continued and eventually the personal stereo, or Walkman was born. Now you can listen to whatever you want, and block out the existence of other people. Drive-ins have become VCR's. Public speaking became portable TV's. Newspapers, laundry, office supplies, and food can be delivered right to your front door. Hello, we are America, and we are an agoraphobic society. A civilization driven by a market economy that, in turn, fears the market place. Nothing bothers an American more than having to deal with other people. Hell, the whole notion of a frontier meant that you wouldn't have any neighbors. Since colonial America, we have used technology to decrease the number of times we must actually converse with another person. Family reunions have become conference calls. ATM machines replace the need for bank tellers, for almost everyone needs to use a bank, and much human contact could occur there. The Home Shopping Network replaces the mall. Once again a phone call to an operator avoids having to see someone you don't like, or anyone at all. Our manners as a collective society have been greatly reduced, because the number of formal occasions has dropped so dramatically. "Please" and "thank you" are not the words of technology. Computers are stoic -- there exists no emotion. As our species spends more and more time with faceless, emotionless partners, our social skills are bound to be dulled. When we do encounter other people, we tend to treat them as machines. This leads to insensitivity, misunderstanding, and perpetuation of the problem. More and more, though, we demonstrate that it is in the static world that we want to exist. Our concern with speed, efficiency, and production allows for computers and robots to replace humans in the workplace. It seems far more preferable to hire a few computer technicians, than a myriad of workers. The problems of electronic workers always have a rational, explainable solution. Humans, on the other hand, have no surge protectors. We are a finicky, irrational, unpredictable, emotional species. The needs of humans go far beyond merely finding a place to plug in. It is our inability to cope with the demands placed upon us by the needs of others that stands at the root of human conflict. Our solution to this problem: Virtual Reality. Almost like reality, but without other people. Of course, virtual reality first gained popularity as a game -- a war game full of destruction, guns, bombs, and an expressed purpose of killing the other people who are virtually real. The thrill of violence. Our heart of darkness fully exposed. Perhaps it is true, then, that our stunning indifference to violent crime is due to our own desires to act out the most horrible deeds. The appeal of things like bar room brawls, Tonya Harding, and video games all serve to satisfy our basest cravings. Whatever happened to love thy neighbor? 1960's guru Timothy Leary immortalized himself with the statement "Turn on, tune in, and drop out." In the 1990's the statement has reinvented itself. Now we turn on computers, televisions, walkmen, and that stupid video machine in Stouffer and tune out the rest of our surroundings. Jobs now require a greater understanding of computers and telecommunications, perhaps at the expense of face-to-face communication. In turn, we have devalued inter-personal relations at the expense of our humanity, and the cost is incalculable. Craig Rutenberg is a sophomore English and Political Science major from Highland Park, Illinois. The Spiral Light of Venus appears alternate Fridays.