CHRISTOPHER MULLIGAN
LCSW
This Loss of
Self-Reflection in a Networked Life
I can
vividly recall lying in my bed at night, during middle school, thinking through
the events of the day, scrolling through images and pieces of conversations. I
recall enjoying this time alone, in the dark. I recall thinking, contemplating,
remembering up until the point I drifted off into sleep. There was something
deeply relaxing and fulfilling about this private time. It was in the quiet of
the night that I could consider ideas, question feelings, let loose fantasies
in complete privacy. I had the opportunity to work out and work through embarrassing
encounters with friends, confusion about my feelings, wonder about a possible
romantic partner, or fantasize about playing alongside Jerry West, wearing
Laker purple and gold.
For many 21st
century teens, the quiet of lying in bed is interrupted by the sound of a text
coming through their smart phone or the sound of an instant message arriving on
their laptop or desktop. Today's youth are “networked “at all times of the day
and night. Many teens experience fear, even panic, if they are separated from their
web of contacts/friends within their smart phone, Facebook page, or e-mail
list.
The constant
opportunity for communication seems to have the unfortunate consequence of
decreasing opportunities to be alone and, in the experience of being alone, the
expansion of self-awareness. The process of being in a contemplative state, a
focused state of personal reflection about one's identity, is diminished by
always being tethered electronically to one's peer group (and or family).
It is the
expectation of today's youth (and adults, for that matter) they will be able to
reach peers twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. The expectation of
connection seems to have created an aversion to being alone, simply because
being alone is so unfamiliar. Rather than see periods of quiet as opportunities
for recharging, contemplation and reflection, quiet is experienced as alien
and, because it is alien, as uncertain and frightening.
In William
Deresiewicz’s essay “The End of Solitude,” he writes: “So
we live exclusively in relation to others, and what disappears from our lives
is solitude. Technology is taking away our privacy and our concentration, but
it is also taking away our ability to be alone.” He goes on to say: “Young people today seem
to have no desire for solitude, have never heard of it, can't imagine why it
would be worth having. In fact, their use of technology -- or, to be fair, our
use of technology -- seems to involve a constant effort to stave off the
possibility of solitude, a continuous attempt, as we sit alone at our
computers, to maintain the imaginative presence of others.”
The
implication of this essay is the more teens try to keep aloneness at a distance,
the less they will be able to deal with being alone and the more terrifying
aloneness will become. Because of this fear the “I generation” may lose the
ability to be still or idle and, therefore, the capacity for solitude. And if
solitude is gone, what exactly does this loss involve? What is at stake? Well,
the ability for introspection, the capacity to examine the self, to discover
hidden or nascent parts of the self. Deresiewicz writes: “But no real
excellence, personal or social, artistic, philosophical, scientific or moral,
can arise without solitude.”
As Sherry
Turkle points out in her book Alone Together, in addition
to the fear of being alone and the loss of the opportunity for contemplation,
when today's youth experience an uncomfortable feeling, they can fire off multiple
texts immediately to gain support and validation. According to Turkle, the teen
of today has little time or patience to sift or sort through their feelings. As
feelings emerge, their first response is to reach out and share the feeling,
achieving clarification and validation through a peers’ “texted” response. Turkle
says one can make the case that for today's youth a feeling isn't truly “real”
until it is communicated – which means texted or posted.
Another
important dimension of today's youth is the messages that are sent via text or Facebook,
must be brief and tailored for the consumption of an audience -- not for one' private consumption or process of
reflection. Through this type of writing, it seems fair to suggest the self is
reduced and diminished. Whenever teens begin to write, they “size up” their
thoughts in terms length of “text” or “post” and public perception. They do not
have the luxury of time to first rehearse what they want to say, to investigate
their own private ideas and feelings, precisely because technology requires
immediate, synchronous, communication.
The “always
on” and constantly networked youth has little need or capacity to contemplate
their lives because they are never truly alone. And, when they do express
themselves, they are focused on tailoring and revising their thoughts with an
audience in mind. The reality is, this type of communication decreases and,
perhaps erodes, the circuitry in the brain responsible for self-reflection and
contemplation.
It has been
noted by Gary Small, M.D., that the high-tech revolution places teens in what
he calls a “state of continuous partial attention.” This means teens are
constantly keeping tabs on multiple activities without fully focusing on any
one subject/activity/person at a time. Small says continuous partial attention ultimately
places teens’ brains in a heightened state of stress, precisely because they do
not have the time to reflect, contemplate, or make thoughtful decisions. They
exist in an “alert state,” always waiting for a new contact or new information
to come in through whatever technological device they are using.
Small argues
the teenager’s brain was not made to maintain this kind of connection for
extended periods. He warns that after endless hours of digital connectivity,
the brain begins to strain. In this stressed state, the brain secretes cortisol
and adrenaline, which can eventually lead to impaired cognition and altered
mood, such as depression. Small also suggests a much more disturbing
possibility: the fully networked brain may be permanently rewired, thus ending
the capacity for contemplation, reflection, solitary moments.
As I write
this blog, I am conscious of the obvious nostalgia, perhaps even romanticizing,
a time long gone by. Perhaps the networked teen will experience an evolution in
thinking and communication, rather than a regression or loss. Perhaps my
concern for the loss of time for quiet contemplation minimizes the
extraordinary opportunities for connection afforded through the technological
modes of communication. Perhaps so.
But, I doubt
it. One of the most important tasks of adolescents and young adulthood is the
development of self-awareness. Self-awareness evolves through quiet moments of
contemplation. Self-awareness grows through confusion and uncertainty about
one's own thoughts, ideas, values, and feelings. If we can “text” a feeling
before we are clear about what feeling we are having, we are deprived of the
opportunity to deeply experience feelings, to turn them inside out, to connect
our feelings and life choices.
So, what is
the solution, if the networked teen is being deprived of the opportunity to
develop self-awareness? Should parents step in and require teens to turn off
their phones and computers? Should parents require teens to spend time
journaling, reading, drawing, or having face-to-face conversations? Assuming
parents did take on this responsibility, this mission to save the capacity for self-reflection
and self-awareness, would any teen listen? Probably not.
Herein lies
a fundamental decision in parenting today's “networked” youth: should the
opportunity for deep reflection and contemplation be a requirement of family
life? And, if so, what would this mean? What would it look like?
The 21st century,
technologically savvy and connected teen, needs stewardship and guidance from his/her
parent. Parents need to set firm and compassionate limits on access to
technology. Reading, drawing, journaling, travel, exercise, outings, and face-to-face
communication need to be priorities for the family.
Then the
questions arises: is today's “networked”
parent, who is very likely as engaged and as distracted by technology as their teen,
truly interested in preserving contemplation, reflection, self-awareness, and
above all moments of solitude and quiet?
Sadly, it
may very well be that the power of multiple technological connections through
multiple types of media have overwhelmed parental priorities, and thus parents
do not have the time, the patience, the endurance, to fight the good fight, to hold onto the value of contemplation, self-reflection, and
above all, self-knowledge.
Perhaps the
best course of action is for parents to unplug from their network life a day or
two a week and, in so doing, invite their children into experiences of a contemplative,
interconnected, quiet life.
I will give
it a try and get back to you… Via another blog, of course.
Christopher
Mulligan LCSW
