Feeling Alone? There's an App for That

            If you haven’t seen it, you haven’t opened your eyes. A couple, young adult, enjoying riveting and meaningful conversation over lunch- maybe she’s having a turkey sandwich, and he some grilled chicken breast. Looks like a pleasant situation, am I right? But let’s turn down the volume on that conversation. In fact, let’s mute it completely. Let’s shift their gazes from each other to rectangular screens, and bathe both their faces in the glow of blue artificial light. They’re not looking up directions on how to chew their food, but by their hypnotized stares at their technological worlds, you might think so. This picture, regrettably, is often more realistic than the first. They continue in their trances until they finish their food, say goodbye, and part in opposite directions- eyes trained back to their mechanical ball-and-chains.

            Is there anything that evokes instant panic more than patting your jean pocket and not feeling the familiar square of your phone? I’m guessing, not much. And what do people even do when their phones die midday, and –gasp– they left their portable charger on the kitchen table? We’ve become rather attached to our technological appendages, so much so that one might even call it an addiction. When I say one, I mean me. And When I say I might, I mean I do.

            Our phones are our lives, in a lot of different ways. Which is fine, within reason. But when two people cannot have a conversation without one of them glancing downward or tapping on their keyboard, you start to wonder which thing controls the other. Do we really let bundles of memory chips and wires dictate how we interact with other people on a daily basis? Why, of course we do.

            The problem isn’t so much that we rely on our phones, but that we need them, not sometimes, but always. When a couple cannot discuss their days over lunch without thumbing through Instagram or liking a post, it says something about what we value as a society and culture. When close friends sit on their phones for two hours during a hangout instead of catching up, that’s when things get scary. It seems we forget what the true reality is- the breathing, blinking, three-dimensional human being in front of us instead of the snapshot of an acquaintance, mid laugh, at a party.

            As our generation grows up, our memories of events will be drastically different than those of people even a few years older. When we think of a gathering or event, we may not remember the vivid, raw details, because we spent half an hour trying to choose the right caption to describe it. Since when is a good time not valid unless it’s published and adorned with 50 likes? It’s all a competition, and nobody is going to win.

            I’m not pointing fingers. I’ve looked at my phone while I’m writing this. And you know what? I hate that I have. There is no quick fix for the technology addiction. Our cyber-lives have become a huge part of how we see ourselves and others, and there’s no going back from that. But I will say this: remember what actually matters.

            Watching a round, egg-yolk sun dip down into a pink and orange sky will always be more captivating than an image of that sunset, no matter how advanced and polished your editing talent. A good conversation with someone you care about- and someone who cares about you- is so much more important than catching up on the riveting adventures of your aunt’s hairdresser’s nephew’s trip to Cancun on Facebook. I’m thinking that can wait. Technology is not going anywhere, and that’s a good thing. It’s a great thing. As long as we remember that it will always be secondary to the high-definition, full color, real-time reality that surrounds us.

These are my opinions, but I'm interested to hear what you think. Is our society's tech addiction a dangerous problem, or simply the way things are nowadays? 

Leave your thoughts below!