When we think of the apocalypse, we get a vision of destroyed cities, bombed-out buildings, piles of rubble and dark skies. If there are any humans left, they are scurrying among the rubble hiding from feral animals and other humans.
But what if it ends up completely different? What if all the buildings and beer gardens are left intact and the skies are blue, but the people become empty shells? Bombed-out souls surrounded by rubble, digital rubble. What if the rise of the machines has already happened?
We are the most affluent civilization that has ever existed, despite our current whining about the cost of things. We lounge comfortably in climate-controlled domiciles, and we eat and drink like kings of old. Our affluence has been bestowed on us by the technology gods and the devices they have showered upon us.
We have access to more information and entertainment than anyone could ever need, but the more we take in the emptier we become; the more we accumulate the less we truly have. We are becoming mere spectators. The digital rubble that surrounds us is made of discarded swipes and clicks and likes. Have we become slaves to the digital gods? Our children are being catechized by TikTok, bombarded by propaganda; this is how they are learning to interact with reality. If most of my communication is two-minute videos, or limited to 280 characters how will I ever learn to have a conversation? Or a nuanced debate?
When Sarte confronted us with existentialism he wanted us to know that you are utterly responsible for the creation of yourself. We used to call that madness. Now it is the air we breathe. We are becoming bored scrolling gods, having all knowledge and no wisdom. We were flirting with it for years, but Covid drove us over the edge, I think. It seems the more we have access to the smaller we become. Our world shrinks. We curate our news feed and delete friends who disagree, sitting with smaller and smaller bands of humans, sipping latte together in our comfortable apocalypse.
I am aware of the irony that you are probably reading this on your phone. I am not a luddite. I am a fan of tech. But, like the rest of us, I am struggling to make myself see it as a tool, not a distraction, as a servant, not a master. We must digitally declutter. Whenever you are touching a screen, you are not touching something else, a dog, a friend, a lover, a tree, the earth. Are we being removed from creation? No. Some shock to the system will happen that will cause us to wake up and realign our priorities, to notice each other. It always does. My solution for the quest for meaning is always the same, God. But I will not bore you with another sermon.
Sorry for the negative post, I could have written much more on this. But I don’t have time. I need to get to the pub, order a beer, and sit and stare at my phone.
“Faces along the bar
cling to their average day.
The lights must never go out
the music must always play.
All the conventions conspire
to make this fort assume
the furniture of home.
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.
W.H. Auden