Communicati-off

I remember the thrill every time our postman (who back then, you knew by name, wrote a Christmas card to, and left a bottle of wine out for every New Year) delivered a letter addressed specifically to me. Was it an elderly Aunt sending a belated Birthday card (that I secretly hoped was concealing a five-pound note)? Or was it the friend I had met whilst holidaying in Greece that I later became pen pals with. Or perhaps it was the Pony Club magazine; writing to me to let me know I had (finally) won their monthly ‘write in with your pony problems’ competition, and I would shortly be in receipt of a brand new saddle. Letters were so precious, they would often get pinned to a bedroom wall; with blue tack (which you prayed wouldn’t take off the paint) or sellotape, which rarely lasted for more than 24 hours.

The era that I now live in – aged only 37 – is one I no longer recognize and at times want to be a part of. Letters have been replaced by text messages; instantaneous and flat; unless of course you use an emoji that 99% of the time is a gross misrepresentation of how you are actually feeling at that given moment. So open to misrepresentation due to the two dimensional nature; text messaging has not only replaced a generation of letter writers – whether it be pen pals, love letters, complaints or just good old fashioned genuine communication – but also replaced the necessity to communicate on a face to face basis; or even voice to voice. A phone was originally designed to allow two people to talk at a distance from one another.

Today, a phone is everything but.

Its your camera, wallet, torch, games console, calendar, alarm clock – the list goes on, and is not exhaustive. The irony being, actually making a call or receiving one is probably the least utilized application of having a phone today.

I remember a time where to greet a fellow human being – be it a neighbor, a shop keeper, or even a passer by on the street – was considered not only polite, but normal. A nod of the head accompanied by “good morning!” sounds almost Dickensian to young adults of today, and should I even attempt to greet fellow residents of the West London postcode where I reside with this (what I consider to be a ) courtesy, the response I would receive would be one of avoidance, confusion, or even disgust. Even eye contact is now interpreted as provocative; inflammatory even, where once it was a sign of recognition or admiration.

Technology is predominantly to blame. We have been furnished with the tools and platforms to enable communication with a target audience with speed and ease that even I and my peers are now struggling to keep up with. How far will this rapid (de) evolution go? Where will it end? The world as we knew it is now deafeningly silent.

I worry. I worry that much like libraries; communication in its most organic form, will be lost and become redundant. Soon perhaps, we will evolve into a species that no longer requires a voice or facial expressions. Maybe evolution will redundacize our facial muscles and voice boxes, relying on technology to bridge the gap, as it already is on a worldwide scale. Will there be a revolution against it? I for one am fighting a losing battle to revive an art form lost on so many.

It would appear that the art of letter writing, along with decorum, manners, and proper use of the English language have all been lost somewhere within the realms of the last couple of decades, with absolutely no hope of revival.

Stop the world; I want to get off.

RIP Communication.