It’s always a little sad when you’re sitting in a well-furnished house in a nice neighborhood in suburban Baltimore with a latte in one hand and a cracker slathered in expensive cheese in the other, and yet you’re comparing your experience to living in a third world country. This was precisely my moment of depressing entitlement on Wednesday afternoon. The cause of my grievance? Unreliable Wi-Fi. At some point down the line the first world decided Wi-Fi was an inalienable human right, and that we are entitled to access to the internet at all times. It wasn’t even that there was no internet – no, the problem was just that internet access was sporadic, shutting on and off every couple of hours or so. Every couple of hours! Do you know how lucky we are to have a power grid – let alone an internet grid – that doesn’t shut off every five minutes? Most people in the world don’t even have reliable access to power and clean water, and yet here I was, about to bite into a piece of cheese whose name I couldn’t even pronounce, and whining because I had to turn the wireless modem off and on again. I’m more than a little ashamed.

To be fair to me, I did have work to do – I had to turn in a freelance writing assignment via email – but it wasn’t like I was utterly without access to the internet. There was a desktop plugged into a landline right five feet away, so I just loaded my work onto a flash drive and, lamenting the extra three minutes it took, sent it off.

I wonder at what point Wi-Fi became a prerequisite for productivity. I can’t imagine doing my homework without my laptop, and to me my laptop means internet – web browsers, email, etc. The thought of being without Wi-Fi when I was trying to work legitimately scared me. There’s a reason for this. Many of our applications have come to rely on constant internet connection, whether for updates, for retrieving information, or even for basic use. Without the internet laptops are no longer as powerful. They’re just fragmented devices that can do a few things like word processing and photo editing. At a certain point the cost of the machine and the power to run it was no longer enough. We began having to build in the cost of internet service, the cost of constant connection to a network. The price, much more than the monetary cost, is that we have become dependent on Wi-Fi and the internet in general. This is not a bad thing, per se, as internet connections are pretty much a given in most parts of the developed world, but I wonder if we’re setting ourselves up for a situation where our dependence on the internet – I’m thinking about things like online banking – could fall prey to cracks in the system, and we could end up in a situation where all the information stored in the cloud (read: giant server farms in California) is either lost or rendered inaccessible. Do we, a connected generation, have the resiliency to bounce back if we suddenly lose our connection?

-epn

Recently procrastination has become my single largest use of technology. It’s not good. I spent an enormous portion of the day watching Youtube videos I didn’t even want to watch to avoid working on what I should have been working on (i.e. my final papers that are due in a month and are as of yet unstarted, or my revisions for the scholarly article analysis). It wasn’t that I thought turning to technology was a better or even a more fun thing to do; it was just that it felt like the easiest thing to be doing at each moment. I think that’s one of the keys to technology overuse: ease. Not just ease of access, but also ease of travel down the passive neurological pathways that lead me time and again to sort of funny Youtube videos and posts on Facebook I don’t care about. Without having to engage my mind I can have some sort of gratification, however small. I know from experience that using technology in creative ways or working on my schoolwork ultimately will be more fulfilling and rewarding, but sometimes the upfront intellectual investment is more than I can handle. And yes, maybe it had something to do with the inadequate amount of sleep I got this weekend, or perhaps the fact that what seems to be 500 pounds of phlegm is trying to eat my brain, but I know that without the easy path I would force myself to be productive, or at least to sleep. Maybe I need another media fast, or maybe when I feel like I do now the easy thing is the right thing. Maybe taking care of myself entails giving myself a break by doing something I feel is unproductive. I don’t know. I’ll probably just end up on Youtube again, and then have to apologize to myself later.

-epn

After discussing lesson planning in class on Thursday, my biggest takeaway was how establishing a clear goal is fundamental for effective teaching. Classroom activities have to be planned so as to build toward a goal in a unified way. This purpose needs to be reiterated throughout the lesson – much as hints at one’s thesis must be reintroduced throughout a paper – in order to develop understanding. That’s the key: understanding. The contents of the lesson are inconsequential in that by themselves they don’t approach a distinct goal, but by the interplay between them, a teacher can instill understanding Teaching is not about the information presented, but rather how that information becomes deeper understanding.

The same “telos”-oriented approach is valuable when teaching technology. For our teaching projects we are not just going to be teaching the students how to use a specific type of technology, but rather why they’re using it, and what they can hope to achieve. Without a clear illustration of a goal, students are left with decontextualized skills that could serve some practical function, but ultimately do not contribute to greater understanding about their technology use. They need to understand the driving forces behind the gadgets they use, as well as what are the best and most efficient ways to utilize them.

It’s not just kids who can benefit from understanding the greater meaning and rationale behind technology use. We as college students – and adults as well – would do well to ask ourselves what we are trying to accomplish when we use technology. We shouldn’t approach technology as an entity that is inherently good and therefore worth using. We should approach it with a clear idea of what we want to get out of using it, and then learn the requisite skills to exploit it. We need to be more than passive consumers of products; we should be intelligent, informed technological citizens with a clear understanding of the purpose and intentions behind our technology use.

After watching the film Disconnected, which followed Carleton college students as they spent three months without their computers, I couldn’t help but cringe every time they had to use a typewriter for an academic assignment. They spent hours upon hours copying their papers, rewriting them, and starting over when they made too many mistakes. I certainly advocate limiting use of superfluous technology, but when taken to the extreme in an academic setting, I felt the results were too inconvenient to give a real platform to talk about how we use technology. Spending hours slaving over a typewriter is sure to create animosity toward the whole venture, in much the same way that not being able to send an important email is. In these cases the inconvenience created resentment, in some cases causing “cheating” and other behavior technically not allowed for the assignment.

I would, however, say that the students who used their computers on select occasions exhibited a healthier approach to technology than those who slogged through until the end. Outright media refusal in a media-saturated academic environment not only creates inconvenience for the refuser, but also for those around him or her. Teachers who had to read messy typewritten documents, and library assistants who had to spend hours helping the students find research materials also suffered. Technology is not just created for the convenience of those using the technology, but also those around them. So while the desire to leave computer-free is noble, the reality of the academic landscape makes outright rejection of technology unrealistic and even slightly inconsiderate. Imagine, for a moment, that some professors refused to check email. Students could perhaps still call them, but because of the email-heavy framework that surrounds them, would the students be as likely to get in touch with them to ask questions? My guess is no. Sure, we should be adaptable when it comes to technology, but outright refusal in this day and age is not conducive to being a real and active member of society. A contemplative approach to computing, like David Levy suggests, is far better.

It would be hard for me to say I had any revelations after a day without media. I would admit that I probably chose the wrong day for the fast (a day on which I had a bus ride to Boston and back – about 8 hours total), and I would say that my coloring of the fast has more to do with my own mental state than with my actual experience. That is to say that I absolutely crashed on Friday night, and on Saturday throughout the day I just felt bad. There is really no other way to put it. I had a persistent headache that didn’t allow me to sleep, which compounded the next day on the bus ride. I convinced myself I would be able to do homework on the bus, but found myself carsick two minutes in. I spent the remainder of the trip trying to fall asleep while silently cursing the loud group of people behind me (I think that more than anything I was jealous of them because they were having so much fun). With cramped legs and no distraction for my mind, I tried to place my mind elsewhere, to engage in the creative process I tend to fall back on, but to no avail.

Ironically, as soon as my fast was over – in time for the majority of the ride home – and I put my headphones in to listen to music, two things happened. First, I began talking to the person I was sitting next to. We are friends and hallmates, but for whatever reason the bus ride to Boston had been mostly silent. Second, my creative energy began flowing again. New story ideas began to flow out of the music and through my mind, splashing against my previously blank canvas of imagination in vivid colors. And then, finally, with music in my ears, I was able to sleep.

I don’t think it wise to draw too many conclusions from my rather painful day, precisely because I was in no state for unbiased observation. I would say one thing: Creativity requires stimulus, some kind of spark to get it started. For me, the noisy interior of the bus and the red of the passing autumn leaves was not enough. I needed the rhythm and rhyme of music to start the spark again.

On an unrelated note, I got my first rejection letter from an agent today. I guess they took “How to Make a Bad Day Worse 101.” Oh well. Time to put the triple-P approach of my high school Calc teacher into action: Persistence, Patience, and Perseverance.

-epn

In my Digital Media Literacy class on Tuesday, many of my classmates spoke of their “addiction” to media, particularly their phones. They talked about how they would feel disconnected or lost without their devices. While some presented their apparent addiction in rather dramatic terms, most described an experience that sounded more like a habitual pattern than actual addiction.

Addiction usually characterizes someone who is incapable of living without something without suffering a severe psychological or physical reaction. The nervous tick of checking one’s phone every five minutes is an impulse created by a habitual pattern. While it resembles addiction because of its frequency and repetition, I would venture to guess that the reason behind that action is not a feeling of needing the phone (as in addiction), but rather of following the easiest behavioral pathway. Most people check their phones almost unconsciously.

Addiction also implies some element of choice, in which the addictee cannot make the choice not to engage in a certain activity, even if they know that activity is harmful. Checking one’s phone is not a conscious choice; it is rather a learned behavior. As with any learned behavior, it can be unlearned. The steps for moving away from that particular behavioral pattern could require similar therapy techniques to those used to treat addiction, but it would likely be an easier and quicker process.

I feel fortunate that I have never learned the phone-check behavior. It is largely because I do not have an iPhone, and therefore do not have all the apps imaginable at my fingertips, but it benefits me in a number of ways. First, I am always present. So often people are simultaneously having multiple social interactions, and not really paying attention to their surroundings. One of my biggest pet peeves is when I am having a conversation (usually in a group rather than one-on-one – I’m not that boring) and someone checks their phone in the middle. It immediately deflates the entire atmosphere. Second, I am not beholden to anyone. Other than a select few people – my family and closest friends – I don’t have to be in constant interaction with others through media. As an introvert, this is an immensely freeing way to live my life. When our teacher presented the idea of a 24-hour “media fast” others reacted with outrage. I just sat back and smiled. What others perceived as a stressful experience, I thought would be a relaxing change of pace.

-epn

I have for quite some time believed that the effectiveness of an individual can be measured by his or her habits. What we are, what we achieve, and how we interact with people are all based on the habits we engage in every day.

After three days of logging my use of digital media, I realized that I have several well-defined habits that may not be particularly healthy. Recognition of these habits led me to consider how I use digital media, and what habit-based effect it has on my life. The following are some of the habits I noticed.

I. Netflix. A lot of Netflix
An appropriate nickname for Netflix would be “the bane of my productivity.” Countless hours disappeared into my computer screen as I binge-watched That ‘70s Show. Most disheartening, other than the time spent, was that it was not my first time watching the show. I already knew everything that was going to happen, but I reverted to it – as opposed to more intellectual fare – because it was comfortable and predictable. The fact that I have such an easy reversion tool is at once immensely unsettling and comforting.

II. Patterned behavior
The pattern of checking my go-to sites (Facebook, then Cinema Blend, then Twitter, then Buzzfeed) is remarkable. It never differs in order, and rarely are the experiences any different. Facebook yields a few notifications and pictures of my old friends at college. Cinema Blend has an article about a big-budget movie I kind of want to see. Twitter has absolutely nothing of substance, and Buzzfeed gives me more gif-reinforced advice and humor than I need or want. Again, this pattern is unsettling for its ease. It is remarkably easy to go to those sites rather than investing myself in more productive technology use. If I didn’t rely on this steady stream of (ultimately boring) patterned sites, I’m sure I would get more out of my media use.

There is certainly something to be said for comfort; we need enough in our lives to ground us. But what exactly are we grounding ourselves in? When I read an article about a movie I don’t really care about, what am I saying about myself? Do I want to be bored? Is there really nothing I’d rather be doing?

I would be the first to say that technology has enormous potential, but so often our everyday, habitual use of media falls into mundane and repetitive patterns. For me the internet is a study in voluntary boredom. But what is to be done? I have no problem with people using technology in their own way, but they should be aware of their habits – both negative and positive.

At the heart of my issue is how I see technology. To me it means familiarity and comfort. It’s like reading the same book again and again. You may see different subtleties and nuances along the way, but eventually you know you will end up in the same place.

I want to open a new book.

-epn