Only a click away

I’m not a fan of touch screens. It might just be me, but something about them doesn’t seem real.

It’s a screen. There are no physical buttons – nothing concrete and unchanging that I can press and expect a result.

While I understand how they work, and that the overwhelming majority of the time they do work, they still seem so fragile and unreliable.

It’s probably because I’m suspicious of technology.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ready to abandon my Facebook, cell phone, TV and e-mail account. But at the same time, I hate feeling that I’m always plugged in – that I’m tethered to devices that could so easily malfunction, leaving me stuck.
Because technology does backfire.

Earlier this month, a British nuclear submarine collided with a French sub in the middle of the Atlantic. Returning to port, the British submarine was said to have “very visible dents and scrapes.”

 Really? Dents and scrapes? Princess didn’t wreck her daddy’s car a week after getting her license. Two nuclear subs hit each other underwater.

Apparently, the collision occurred because both submarines’ anti-sonar devices were “too effective.” I’ll say.

It’s nice to know that the highest, most advanced form of military technology, the nuclear sub – which is meant to protect our country from foreign missile attacks – has trouble sensing something just feet from it.

Feel safe?

Our society is so dependent upon technology. Credit card statements are online. So are job applications. I receive assignments by e-mail and submit them via Oncourse.

There’s a Facebook group for my ballroom dance class.

My grades, and thus my eligibility for grad school, earning potential and desirability as a mate – basically, my entire future – is dependent upon technology.

And in technology, nothing’s certain. What you want isn’t always available, and what you’d love to delete is still floating out there, somewhere.
If they can shut down Juicy Campus, nothing’s sacred. What’s holding it all together?

I mean, most of the time it works. I click send and have faith it will arrive. I see the gold padlock in the corner of the screen and feel secure. But when it doesn’t, my world is shattered.

Technology fails.

For some, faith in technology is great. It sustains us, makes our lives easier and allows us to do more, faster. But if I wanted to undermine society, I’d go for the fragile framework. I’d target technology.

And in some ways, technology’s already doing that work.

On April 14, 2006, the decomposing body of 40-year-old Joyce Vincent was discovered in her London apartment, where it had been rotting for two years. Upon entering her home, policemen found her decaying corpse sitting in a chair in her living room. Thanks to automatic bill paying enabled by computer technology, her heater was still running. The TV was still on.

For two years, her death had gone unobserved, unreported. No family member called. No friend had stopped by. Clearly, her soul had died long before her body.

It’s only a click away.