Modern technology is straining the boundaries of our ability and our desire to trust — in fact, it is testing those boundaries on both ends, the extreme of over-trusting and of persistent distrust. It is a curiously ambivalent place to be in, and we have been languishing here for the better part of a decade now, with increasing anxiety but no immediate solution.
The truth is that the parameters of our world have shifted; often in such a seemingly trivial way that perhaps we are unconsciously waiting for a re-adjustment. Web 2.0 and the communities it generates has us exchanging confidences with people half a world away, while at the same time, the easy familiarity of that development invites a seemingly justified paranoia about our privacy, our safety, and our very identity.
What is, arguably, worse is the fact that the outward expansion of our social networks has coincided with an odd vacating and neglect of our most immediate communities. Just as the movement toward the suburbs left city centers empty, creating the so-called donut effect, so are our living environments becoming more vacant of life as we begin to live our lives online. A friend of mine remarked recently that we hardly ever entertain inside our homes anymore. Companionship and activity, when it occurs, is to be sought elsewhere, both virtually and physically. And as a result, the visible activity in our neighborhoods is primarily that of cars, while strolling families and playing children have largely vacated the landscape.
These insidious transformations, even when desired, are destabilizing. If we were to name a place where we felt comfortable in the company of others — where exactly, beyond the enclave of the family home, would that be? Not online, even if we spend a large amount of our time interacting through that medium. And not in the physical neighborhoods where we dwell, if they have come to consist of locked doors and relative strangers. The problem is that we badly need a degree of trust and safety if we are to keep building the social integration upon which, as social creatures, we so acutely depend.
Our lives online are ever evolving, and I am actually optimistic about the authenticity and value of the social connections that we find there. It may seem foolhardy to trust a random and global collection of strangers with any essential information about us and perhaps this is indeed the case. However, appropriate safeguards evolve along with the technology, and there is every reason to assume that the younger generation is savvier than us. The Internet does offer a genuine opportunity to be part of a global village. Even if we flock together, inevitably, in groups that reflect shared interests, we are successfully transcending the parameters of geography and nationality. With the right attitude and degree of openness, there is much to be learned about our fellow human beings.
But I think a more pressing concern is that we need to re-inhabit our physical neighborhoods — to let our children play outside, and to walk with them to school or the local park rather than watching it all through the window of a motorized vehicle. Unless we come face to face with our most immediate neighbors, we cannot possibly trust them. But as soon as we do, we begin to weave a powerful safety net, our most solid and tangible defense against an anonymous world that we can't help but distrust.
—
Email: [email protected]
