Most days, I wake up pretty early. Early-Bird early. Before-the-sun-rises early. I have a window of time, a magic few hours, utterly to myself, before the sun fully paints the sky. In New York City, at this hour, the streets are utilitarian and the air, pregnant with a day’s possibility. Sometimes, it’s as if nothing moves. Yet, even in a time so seemingly sacred, so quasi-religious in its weight, an act of sacrilege takes place: A cloying glow of a computer screen illuminates my work area, my hand fumbles, reaching for my mobile, retrieving a cross-Atlantic sms, a television suddenly activated, diligently eats silence. I’m . . . connected.
But, this feels wrong. While “sacrilege” may be an indulgence of language on my part, awaking to this much connectivity is definitely kinda bad, right? It is kinda bad to feel alien without a screen present. It is kinda bad to feel foreign to the alterity of zoning out.
But why? Why is this “bad”?
New York Times Technology Journalist Matt Ritchel thinks that when our beloved communication devices inundate us from all directions, ironically we feel more disconnected and less able to focus. He thinks we shouldn’t. This is why it is bad.