Last week, there were a few moments when I felt truly disempowered by digital technology. The first was on the road in San Francisco with the Media Lab’s Director of Development, Sarah Page. We were visiting several prospective sponsors, and as usual with this ritual, we were strangers in a foreign land with a list of unfamiliar addresses. One appointment ran too long, and we were dangerously slipping into the “almost late” category.
Being the “forgetful professor” that I tend to be, when Sarah politely screamed at me, “Where’s the address and directions?” I replied, “Uh, I think I forgot it at the hotel. But don’t worry, I’ll look it up on my Internet-enabled device.” I sat there for a few minutes typing in some queries into MapQuest, and between a series of awkward disconnected moments (we were driving 60mph on the highway after all) I was simply taking too long. “Give me the phone!” Sarah said. She quickly dialed 411 and got all the information she was looking for, even though I had the Internet in the palm of my hands.
The second moment occurred when I was watching a movie with my wife Kris. It was a Victorian period piece and thus the manner of language was a bit confusing. We got a bit slowed down on the meaning of a “parson” versus a “pastor” because there was a nonsecular family living in the “parsonage.” Kris hit ‘pause’ on the DVD player and got up. I assumed she was going to Google it. Instead, she opened up a dictionary, flipped through the pages, and cleared up our confusion. No click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard. Instant information without the Internet?
Finally this week I was thinking of taking my teenage daughter to a movie that everyone has been talking about. To make matters more urgent, all of her sisters have seen it with other friends. Suddenly as a father I felt that rare moment of being needed! Reading the Sunday newspaper this morning I saw a reminder of the movie in the Arts section, and then thought of going to my computer to click through a variety of sites and links to get the box office showing information. “Wait!” I thought to myself. “That information is published right in this Arts section.” Sure enough, I thumbed through to the next page and there was the scheduling information printed in non-electrified black and white type.
So, what is the moral of the story? For print media to eventually die, there will need to be compelling reasons beyond the idea that digital technology lends us a new level of convenience. I plan to keep my printed dictionary closer to me from now on.
This week we focus on the topic of the power of failure.