In other words, I have been very lucky. To measure the significance of this access to knowledge, look to the reactions of fearful dictators when civil unrest unfolds and a coup begins to stir — the first thing to disappear is the internet, followed fast by the leaders of the unrest. Flippancy aside, 18 countries so far this year have shut down the internet in some capacity, and many others persistently restrict it for this very reason.
Dependence is inevitable. It pains me to admit that upon losing my keys recently, I instinctively picked up my phone to Google where they were. Although I stopped myself short, it goes a long way to showing the conditioning of minds these days: need information, seek information, have information.
All in a matter of seconds, the thirst for knowledge can arise and be quenched. The contrast of this to any other point in history should not be forgotten.
Our world now is one where the answer is immediate and spelled out in layman's terms, with a cherry of clickbait on top to draw you in. This can certainly be satisfying in a short term, dopamine loop-driven sort of way. But recently I have wondered about the flaws of this technology.
The spread of misinformation is feared. Fake news, deep fakes, cheap fakes. The control and misrepresentation of information by media. Foreign meddling. Lies, damned lies and statistics.
An issue undeniably, but not one I am paid nor smart enough to solve. What I am worried about today is less misinformation, and more missing information. The questions to which no one seems to be able to tell me the answers, and nor can the search engine. Food for thought for you, from my own mind starved of the answers.
Firstly, why are there phones next to the toilets in hotel bathrooms? Have they ever been used? If so, who on Earth were they used to call? How short was the call that it could happen while the caller was going about their business, and not keep them sitting on the toilet solely to finish the phone call? If the call was that short, why could it not just wait? If the call was that long, why would you not go to the toilet before making the call? Have they ever been cleaned? Unless you were guaranteed so, why would you hold it against your face? More questions are forthcoming, but I am spluttering and aghast and must move on for my own sake.
Secondly, how do old people open jars? I know they can't be doing it themselves, because I'm meant to be in the physical prime of my life and even I am still stumped by the odd jar of olives. I suspect even the average jar would be a stretch for your typical muffin-baking, book-reading, "that's nice dear"-ing white-haired old chook. So where does this super strength or third-party aid come from? Now, you can hold down your backspace key and clear the email you were writing to me — I have also seen the infomercials selling that fancy tool for opening jars. But that is precisely the issue — if people are buying a product, it is not advertised at 3am on a Tuesday morning, it is simply purchased, and I have never met someone who owned one. So how do old people open jars?
Finally, has anyone actually splashed water on their face from the bathroom sink, or has that happened only in movies? On the off chance someone has done so, did they learn it organically, or from movies?
What is the purpose? How do you dry your face afterwards? How do you explain to the other restroom patrons why you have your face inside the hand-drier? How do you explain away, upon your return to the table, your soaked sleeves, collar, hair, and beet red and clammy face?
These are the questions Google cannot, or simply will not divulge the answers to. The questions of life school never prepared me for.
Actually, come to think of it, school never adequately answered most questions in life, including "how do I do taxes?", "how does a credit card work?", and most importantly "how come I can't use that quote?".
I guess we're just lucky to have Google for the rest.
