Can you get through your day without talking, in person, to another human? If you unwind the clock 100 years, the prospect would seem ridiculous, unless you lived deep in the woods. But, as time goes on, technology is clearly drawing us closer toward a world of silence.
Today, things like Uber and iPhones are removing requirements of in-person human interaction left and right.
As much as technology “connects” us, it is simultaneously removing us from engaging with people in the real world. I worry that a lot of the political, social and economic fragmentation we are grappling with reflects the fact that in our daily life we are interacting with fewer people outside of our social tribes.
Broad Experiences of Silence Today: Uber and iPhones
When Uber and Lyft added the ability to specify a destination location in the app, they meaningfully improved the experience of using their services. The feature helped by pre-loading directions for drivers and helping with data optimization and monitoring. But it also let passengers not have to deal with the sometimes-broken English of drivers, removing opportunities for miscommunication.
The side effect of the feature, however, is that for the first time you can get a lift in a car from points A to B without ever speaking a word to the driver. You can get into the car, close the door, and open the door at your destination exactly as you might someday in a self-driving car—no acknowledgement or interaction with the driver necessary.
For anyone who grew up hearing life stories and discussing politics with New York City cabbies, this is a pretty eerie experience. Because you aren’t forced to tell a driver where you are going (let alone interact with them to pay them at the end of the trip), the openings for conversations become rarer and more awkward. Talking to cabbies happens to be a great way to get a diverse set of views about the world over the course of a year.
I am not arguing against Uber and Lyft’s feature. I am someone who frequently takes advantage of the opportunity to not start a conversation with my driver. But I also feel guilty about treating a person as a machine in this case. Every time I do talk to the drivers it reminds me of what is lost by not being forced socially to interact.
Of course, Uber’s destinations feature is just a small—if visceral—window into what is really going on. Smartphones clearly represent a much bigger contributing factor to the growth in “silence” over the last 20 years.
You might say that it started with the Walkman, and then the iPod. Such devices gave people the ability to easily listen to something more interesting than the people around them in public spaces. That added friction to any spontaneous interaction with random others that might have otherwise occurred.
Social media on iPhones clearly moved our eyes down to screens and away from eye-level. Messaging services give us the ability to always be talking to the people we most want to talk to, taking away an incentive to engage the people around you in lines and waiting rooms. Apps from Postmates to Amazon to Doughbies give us the ability to instantly get more and more done without needing to talk to anyone.
All of this points to technology silencing the real world.
The Silence That Comes Next: Fancy Hotels and VR
One of the best ways to consider the future is to look at how people who are better-off live and interact today. There is a good chance that is where things are going for everyone soon.
I was recently at a very high-end hotel and the thing that struck me was the silence of it all. It was beautiful, the experience was wonderful, and it was one of the quietest experiences of my recent life.
The staff was trained to know each guest, so there was no reason to introduce yourself. There were no prices listed or checks or bills presented at any point so there was no social interaction around commerce. The landscape was set up to give people privacy and space and quiet. That is exactly what it accomplished and it was wonderful. But it was also somehow dehumanized.
I expect some element of that is the future more broadly. I look forward to the day when any bartender knows my name and favorite drink before I show up. I look forward to not having to deal with cumbersome, clunky payment systems. I look forward to a world where my demands and needs are met seamlessly—but I also recognize that in that world I will be fully plugged into my own little bubble.
I worry that without needing to argue with drivers and deal with service providers there is no space for the spontaneous debates and new ideas that come when you are forced to interact with people in the natural marketplace.
VR is, of course, potentially the beginning of the end of the line. It’s a service that builds a world that shows us what we want completely—and can disassociate us from the hassles of the real world. The train is leaving the station regardless of how we feel about it.
But man, as much as I love putting my headphones on and reading media in the back of the car on the way to work, I miss arguing about politics with cabbies. I worry that the sum of those weird interactions is more valuable for a democracy and the world than we understand.