Net Loss: Is the Internet Killing Solitude and Downtime?

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In his new book, The End of Absence, journalist Michael Harris explains why we should save room for “nothingness”

Jul 15, 2014 | |

When it comes to information and connection, we rarely want for anything these days. And that’s a problem, argues journalist Michael Harris in his new book (Current, August 2014). Harris suggests that modern technology, especially the , has taken certain kinds of absence from our lives—it has eliminated our time for solitude and daydreaming, and filled even short moments of quiet with interruptions and distractions. Harris worries that these “absences” have fundamental value in human lives, and maintains that we ought to try to hold on to them.

Certain generations alive today will be the last to remember what life was like . It is these generations who are uniquely able to consider what we’ve lost, even as we have gained the vast resources and instant connectivity of the Web and mobile communications. Now would be a good time for society to stop and think about protecting some aspects of our pre-Internet lives, and move toward a balanced future that embraces technology while holding on to absence.

spoke to Harris about why we should reclaim stillness and resist the lure of endless Beyoncé videos.

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In your title, “The End of Absence,” what do you mean by absence?

Can you give an example?

And when we’re on vacation, technology also makes it harder to avoid interruptions and distractions, right?

We have this devotion to the life-logging process. Who hasn’t seen that thing where there’s a crowd of people in front of the and they’re all looking at it through their phones, as though they can’t see digital pictures of it whenever they want. They have this one opportunity to look at the actual painting, and they’re squandering it.

Why should we worry that we’re losing that absence?

I don’t know anybody that would argue that the . It’s not so much the content that bothers me. It’s the fact that our brains are plastic and we’re training them to skim, not really to pay attention. Not to be too extremist about it, but it makes us very vulnerable if we aren’t actually able to pay attention. We’re not a very worthwhile citizenry if we can’t read a 300-word-long article without losing focus.

In the book you talk about your own struggle to resist the siren call of digital disruptions, like the morning you got lost watching Beyoncé videos. What strategies did you find that work for trying to hold on to absence?

We have to engineer absence and be proactive. It’s not going to come back on its own. The bias in our society is moving toward more content, shallower thinking. You have to actually do semiradical things like taking a month off the Internet to remind yourself what reverie or daydreaming looks like; what does it feel like to walk through the park without a cell phone?

I am not trying to tell anyone how to live, but I am arguing that only knowing one way to live is an impoverished state. We should be able to choose between online life and offline life. If you can’t take a week off the Internet, I think that says something about your level of addiction.

Aside from taking time away from the Internet, how can we, and future generations, learn to be more aware of how it affects us?