I like to use my hands and build stuff . Mainly guitars. I assemble Stratocaster replicas sourcing bodies, necks and electronics from different places, sometimes I even use original pickups and hardware. Then when I’m finished, I play my guitar a little. After a while, I put it on its stand and look at it. I run my fingers on the fretboard, checking its smoothness and consistency. I paint and polish its body, smelling the wood and studying every vein in it. I feel an immense sense of accomplishment in building something physical, that I can look at, touch, smell.
We used to live in a world that was a lot more physical than it is today.
I mean, even in the very small things at home or at work. We used to have paper TV guides, now we have on-screen menus. Sending a telex or a fax to a customer was the norm, holding the paper strip in your hands and archiving the sheets for future reference.
My flat used to be full of LPs, CDs, books. Shelves after shelves of plastic and paper, all neatly arranged and referenced. Each record sleeve had a story behind it, a memory attached, faces in the background. I could recall where and when I bought that compact disc, and probably who I was with at the time. Every book would be pulled out, smelled, read and re-read, every time taking me back to the same emotional awakening of the first time I held it in my hands.
Today I own none of those artefacts. I carry all my music with me all the time, and all my books fit in a palm size device. I’ve sold all my book cases and shelves. My house is mostly empty. The upside is that I’m a lot more mobile, and that’s something I really need, given the amount of travel and constant change in circumstances in my life.
The downside is that I feel zero emotional attachment to any of those goods. Software is eating the world, and with it the deep personal relation we used to have with stuff we really cherished.
In some cases it’s good.
Take cars, for example. I’ve never been particularly crazy about them, and I welcome the fact that through software we can just use a car when we need it, that it will be always perfectly maintained and up to the latest specs (through software updates, of course). Not too sure about self-driving cars, as I believe the real problem that needs fixing is urban mobility in general and having a lot of automated cars wandering around will not solve it, but still -- it’s probably a step in the right direction.
But in some other cases it can be bad, especially when it becomes a deterrent to human interaction (IM and SMS are surely practical, but talking to and meeting each other is way more fulfilling) or it blocks it altogether (automated help lines anybody?).
I know, those are just examples and I’m just scraping the surface here, but you get the general drift I hope.
Alarmingly, as we go deeper, it appears that it’s only going to get worse. Think virtual reality and artificial intelligence.
Why do we need a virtual world to live in? Why do we need artificial when there is so much real intelligence around? Why don’t we focus on the tangible, physical wonderful world out there instead? Why don’t we take care of the environment, feed the hungry, provide clear water for the hundred of million who don’t have access to it? Why don’t we rethink the economic model on which our society is built -- which is clearly failing us -- and center it around tangible, sustainable resources to support humankind survival?
What are you saying? We can accomplish that through software? Fine. But at least give us a way to still experience emotion and empathy, affection and warmth for things that make our life special.
I don’t feel anything for my smartphone, even less for the apps on it. I use it, then discard it, then use it again. Zero emotion. I use my laptop daily and for many hours, but it’s just a mean to an end to me.
There must be a better way.
Maybe the Internet-of-things is our best hope. Software driven, yes, but fundamentally linking physical devices in the tangible world to do stuff better for us. Although it’s hard to feel attachment for a thermostat or an electronic key lock, at least they exist in the real world and not only in the lines of codes written by an energy drink driven youngster in a dimly lit cubicle somewhere on the planet.
We need to reclaim the tangibility of life. Not to go back to the old days, not at all. But by making sure that whatever we do, we stay focused on what really makes humankind different from all the other species.
And that’s the ability to generate, feel and share emotions, also through the things we use and cherish.