Reality/TV

My partner, her 10 year old son and I were having one of those morning-cup-of-tea-in-bed type wandering conversations about how our TV watching was policed when we were kids and how much harder it is now to do that. We wondered if, indeed, there was a point to policing TV (but then, last night's family viewing was Tim Minchin's Ready For This) or was the policing of TV in our youth similar to how early motor cars couldn't be driven without a man with a red flag walking in front to warn people.

The boys in this house are more aware of certain - mostly sport-related - aspects of the world than we were as kids. Which is great. The down side of all this TV razzamatazz however is that often the real world fails to live up to the TV experience. Compare sitting way up the back of the crowd at a major basketball game with the coverage on the TV. Sure, there's atmosphere, but many folks - and young boys in particular - often prefer the autistic feast of stats paraded across the screen to the ambience of the stadium.

This made me think of those nature documentaries with David Attenborough and the like that the BBC used to make back when it wasn't crap. We swam with whales, flew with geese and buzzed through fields of flowers with bees. Nature made the stuff of spectacle. So awesome was the footage that real contact with nature - simply going out into your back yard and listening to a blackbird - seems utterly pointless. Lame as, bro. Reality just isn't as interesting as TV even though TV doesn't give you anything like the sensory richness of the real world. I held forth on this subject briefly. My partner's son nodded wisely:

"That's why we need 3D TV."

Not in my back yard

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Sat Nav – the end of hope?

I recently put instructions on the Sensory Trust's web site on how to find our office after an increasing number of visitors found that their sat nav deposited them in a farmyard with no mobile phone reception a half mile up the road. This got us to wondering about the effects of satellite navigation on our relationship with the world.

Back in the days of paper maps we never lost a visitor, but now it happens repeatedly. Even to folks who have visited us before (that is, before they bought a sat nav). How has the sat nav changed our perception of the places we travel through? What is the difference between following instructions and reading a map?

Where we used to move mindfully through a wide landscape of choices and decisions we now hurtle through a tunnel of digitally voiced instructions. There is no room for the side-track and no need for the spontaneous. Indeed, a spur of the moment detour leads to the science-fiction scenario of the computer squawking at you to “turn around as soon as it is safe”.

Open the pod bay doors, Hal.

I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.

Those of us who live in urban areas have little chance to experience the natural world at the best of times. Everything from double-glazing and air-conditioning to television documentaries serves to keep our experiences twice-removed. Now, even when we're in it, the wider countryside is defined as a set of destinations that we're locked in to arriving at, “guided” by a tinny voice from the dashboard. Anything on the way is in the way.

Take a look at an OS map of the area around Stonehenge for example. A glance shows that we’re knee deep in prehistoric earthworks for miles around. This incredible richness was distilled for me recently by my (rented car) sat nav as “in 200 yards turn right onto the A344”.

A whole world of experience: history, geography, geology, the environment and landscape reduced to a list of left and right turns. Discovery is written out of the plan; no one gets happily lost.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote that “to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive”. With the sat nav, the only point of the journey is arrival. Can we still travel hopefully?

"I'm late, I'm late," said the rabbit, "I'm late for a disappointment."

"Don't you mean an appointment?" asked Alice, pedantically, "I've never heard of anyone being late for a disappointment before."

The White Rabbit pulled his satnav from his waistcoat pocket and peered at it. "No, it's definitely a disappointment. And I'm late!"

And with that he disappeared down a rabbit hole.

The Root of All Evil

I read an article recently about a bicycle "upcycling" (the sexier added-value marketing version of recycling) operation in Daylesford, Victoria where the author claimed that any technology developed after the Stone Age was to blame for the planet being “in a mess”. This sort of woolly thinking is pretty common amongst the rank and file of the environmental movement, and the article finally prompted me to pull some of it apart for closer inspection.

Now, first off, unless the author is citing the Flintstones as his primary source material, the wheel is not a Stone Age technology. The oldest known wheel was built by the Sumerians in 3500 BC. I’ll also skip the fact that double-butted steel tubing, aluminium alloy, and the pneumatic tyre are also considerably more contemporary and, especially in the case of aluminium, hardly enviroguilt-free.

Then there’s the tacit assumption that the world is “in a mess”. It isn’t. Globally we have never been so healthy, wealthy and peaceful. Yes, there is suffering aplenty still going on. There is inequity, repression and violence in some parts of the world, but there are also large parts of it that are stable, reasonably peaceful and allow their citizens more freedom, food and subsidised dentistry than at any time in history. The fact that this is built to an extent on the inequity, repression and violence in other parts of the world is part of this post so stay with me, I’m not finished.

A lot of the world isn’t in a mess. In fact in so-called-developed countries the thought of losing our pleasant lifestyle is part of what makes so many of us afraid of the future. Our lifestyle allows us sufficient leisure time to create and nurture fears and it’s these fears, often stoked by the media and manipulated by the institutions of power, that turn any ring of change into the clanging chimes of catastrophe. The world isn’t in a mess, but it seems there’s always a mess waiting for us just around the corner. There must be, the thinking goes, because it’s nothing less than we deserve for being so comfortable. Sod’s Law.

Climate change may well be upon us. A large majority of climate experts agree that it is, and it seems reasonable to accept that is the case. Regardless of whether the cause is part of a natural cycle or the fact that we left the lights on last night, there’s a probability of some large changes in the world in the next few decades as populations shift, and it’s up to us to figure out ways to accommodate these changes.

Some folks fear change, others embrace it, and these two camps break down in the climate debate into adaptation and mitigation. Change isn’t bad, it’s how the world works whether we like it or not, and large scale change can offer us chances to make things better for many more folks in the world… if we’re smart and can grasp them. In the face of the perceived threat of climate change there’s the potential for unprecedented cooperation between nations, the opportunity to scrutinise and pick apart the iniquitous and exploitative systems that the global economy is built upon (see, I said I'd come back to it), and a million chances to do things better individually, as a community, nationally and globally. And the great thing about making these changes is that, even if climate sceptics are right, the effort won’t have been wasted because our world will be a better place than it was before. Win win.

Now on to the belief that technology is evil. Technology is not to blame for climate change any more than language is to blame for bad diplomacy. Laying blame on abstract concepts like technology which have no inherent will, agenda or direction is woolly thinking at its finest. Merino thinking.

Damning technology as the cause of the world’s ills is as pointless as holding it up to be the saviour of our future. Technology will be with us for as long as we are here, and every new invention will bring associated benefits and costs. Witness sustainable power generation. Solar? Wind? Hydro?Tidal? Flooded valleys, noise pollution, high production costs… nothing is free, nothing is without consequence. It’s up to us to debate and decide which consequences we can live with.

Those who believe in technology as a saviour seek comfort in a consequence-free future of time travel, anti-matter and fusion reactors. Those railing against technology comfort themselves by feeling they are opposing the institutions, governments and corporations that shape the development and deployment of technology. However, railing against technology plays into the hands of the capitalist system, giving producers new avenues to diversify their market, producing so-called “green” or “environmentally friendly” versions of the same product. Put “Eco” in front of the name and you can shift another million units of pretty much any old crap.

Problem or solution, any debate about technology is a distraction from more important questions. Harder questions. We would be better to examine our use of technology. We could examine technology’s unholy relationship with the institutions of power that have shaped the direction technology has taken; we could examine the marketing of technology and the confection of wants. Then we could dig deeper. We could examine our needs and desires. We could question our greed, our sense of fulfilment, our need for status or power. We could ask ourselves which pieces of the technology story, good or bad, we are willing to ignore when we tell it.

It seems we have a talent for filtering self-examination out of issues. Many folks today misuse the Christian New Testament quote when they say “money is the root of all evil”, neatly scapegoating yet another non-deterministic concept. Add back “the love of” to the quote and we have a much more penetrating critique. Let’s do the same for our relationships with technology, with power structures and with each other. Then we can start a conversation that’s going somewhere.