The Tragic Collapse of Connection
For most of the twentieth century, while we didn’t take time to think about it, we were all anchored together by a common bond – the ‘white pages’ telephone book. And, the ‘yellow pages’ book for businesses. This was a common bond. Everyone had them, they were compiled and handed out for free. If you knew their name, you could find anyone, anywhere, including their address, anytime.
This simple mixture of ink and paper was one of the strongest bonds in our (past) democracy, and bound us all together through a form of mutual trust. You were not a real person, after all, unless you were in the white pages. As much as communication, the white pages signalled trust…enough at least for shared names, phone numbers, and addresses. If you can find one now, pick it up and hold it for a minute. It’s a rare tangible feeling of trust and share connection, in a world that’s now untrusting.
But in todays world, think of the implications of sharing this information with ‘strangers’. It’s considered an invasion of privacy. And a direct threat, as this information could be used against you by ‘terrorists’ who may not have your best interests in mind.
The white pages has been quietly unalived as an awkward example of a better time, a time when there was a basic mutal bond of trust between people who ‘belonged’ in a specific area code. The young people of today don’t miss it… they never had it, and can’t imagine what good it could be. Today, being anonymous is considered ‘safe’. But is it?
The tragic collapse of connection is demonstrated in the fact that you can no longer find many of the people you shared your past life with. Husbands, wives, lovers, friends, co-workers, family members are, in many cases, no longer findable. The central repository of connection has been sidelined and replaced with dozens of ‘new’ social media sites and transient wireless connections that come and go. Try finding someone you went to elementary school with. You can’t. Even those who recently change their wireless provider may be lost forever.
The cost of this loss of connection is enormous, in every sense, economically, efficiency-wise, knowledge-wise, but the greatest loss in emotionally. By severing the connection between people through the fragmentation of communication, a blow is struck into the heart of society. You can no longer, and will never, look into the eyes of many past relationships again. They are lost to you.
By this one move, so subtle and disguised with ‘new and better’, the forces of control have failed to ensure billions of human interconnections remain intact, and moved to further divide and conquer. Our civilization is no longer able to provide access to old friends in any usable or reliable manner. Our technologies won’t allow it. All the relationships, connections, and share wisdom of those relationships is lost.
This is not progress, this is an attack on progress. Only poor and morally destitute nations would allow our communication with each other to be severed in such a callous manner.
