From time to time in various fields, people proclaim the death of this or that because of technological change. The current favorites seem to be journalism and literacy/writing. Oh, woe is us. We are doomed, technology killed everything beautiful and wonderful in our lives.
My career revolves around technology: I love pondering the dangers and risks of new technologies and ideas. I’m a huge dystopian/post-apocalpytic-anything fan. I just finished watching the season finale of the FOX show Dollhouse, who’s whole premise is that technology corrupts and absolute technology corrupts absolutely.
But please. What happens is we see the process but don’t/can’t see the long term outcomes and we get those two confused. One example: 20 years ago, if someone were to tell you that DARPA was going to unleash a tidal wave of global societal change by allowing anyone anywhere anytime to access government, corporate and even private information, and, to top it off, to be able to share said information with the whole world in seconds, sending ideas and data flowing around the globe in a constant cacophony of never-ending, unstoppable ease, how would they have responded? They would have freaked out. But in reality, the long term outcomes of the Internet we’re just beginning to see and they’re not nearly as apocalypse-inducing as one would have thought 20 years ago.
What set off this little soap box session was the following post on the Britannica Blog about how text-messaging is killing writing (hat tip: Andrew Sullivan):
Our eager embrace of a brand new verb — to text — speaks volumes. We’re rapidly moving away from our old linear form of writing and reading, in which ideas and narratives wended their way across many pages, to a much more compressed, nonlinear form. What we’ve learned about digital media is that, even as they promote the transmission of writing, they shatter writing into little, utilitarian fragments. They turn stories into snippets. They transform prose and poetry into quick, scattered bursts of text.
Writing will survive, but it will survive in a debased form. It will lose its richness. We will no longer read and write words. We will merely process them, the way our computers do.
Texting helps overthrow dictatorships and get around governments trying to crack down on their people. It helps us find survivors under rumble in collapsed buildings in Haiti. It saves me 5-10 minutes a day, 60 hours a year, of having to check my voicemail. These are the good, long term outcomes of this new technology. And if anything, it’s increasing our desire for long-form storytelling. It’s adding to what we’re already doing, not taking away from.
Some examples: how many 3 part (or more), epic movies did we have 10 years ago (Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter)? How many TV shows 15 years ago spanned 5 or more seasons, sometimes altogether forsaking the episodic approach to storytelling (The Wire, Lost, Battlestar Galactica, etc.)? Why do adult fiction book sales continue to go up? And finally, a this study that just came out shows that texting is actually improving primary school children’s reading and writing abilities:
It found that knowledge of “textisms” increased with age, with half of children in the last year of primary school using such language. Examples include shortenings such as bro for brother, contractions such as plz for please, omitted apostrophes such as wont for won’t, homophones such as 2moro for tomorrow, and acronyms such as WUU2 for what are you up to?
But Clare Wood, Reader in Developmental Psychology at the university, said that use of such text speak could be used to predict reading ability. Children familiar with texting had a high level of phonological awareness, an early developing skill that refers to the ability to detect, isolate and manipulate patterns of sound in speech, Dr Wood said: “We were surprised to learn that … textism use was actually driving the development of phonological awareness and reading skill in children. Texting also appears to be a valuable form of contact with written English for many children, which enables them to practise reading and spelling on a daily basis.
So don’t proclaim the debasement of prose when really we’re witnessing it’s explosive growth. Just as, at the very moment that journalism is exploding globally, everyone keeps saying it’s dying. Things don’t die — they change, expand, and grow. And yes, they will be different. And some pieces, like newspaper business models built on car dealer full page ads and classifieds, will die. But isn’t it for the better?
It’s great to be afraid of what technology might do. After all, we do have the power at this point in our history to destroy ourselves and our planet pretty completely. So dwelling on that and being afraid of it helps us prevent it, right?
Ok, stepping off my soap box now.