The Digital Revolution: Ultimate Convenience or Scary Dependency

Once upon a time, and it really wasn’t that long ago, getting to the bank before it closed meant the difference between having a “happening” Saturday night and sitting at home because you had no money to fill your tank. Worse, one had to get to the gas station before it closed.

Of course, all that changed in the 1990s when the ARPANet—once a military safety net—exploded into the public Internet. Now, only the “ancients” remember getting an actual paycheck from their employesr, standing in line at the Savings & Loan to convert hard-earned dollars into spendable cash, and then actually calling the movie theater to see what flick was playing.

Now, we deposit our checks electronically and swipe a card to get gas—any time, night or day. If we actually go to the movies, we pull out our cell phone and not only check the listing, we scroll a plethora of reviews to ensure the movie truly rates our attention.  More likely, we sit at home on our couch and download the feature or skip the movie all together to text friends or find out what they had for lunch on Facebook or Twitter—friends we might have once met face-to-face to engage in actual conversation.

Writers who might never have gotten the attention of New York publishers (for either legitimate reasons, because of bad timing, or just simply because the book didn’t measure-up) can now publish and promote a novel with little more than a few keystrokes. Of course, since anyone can hawk a manuscript, the author's book might get lost in the sea of self-pubbed stories and may never sell because readers wonder why they should “pay” when so many free books exist.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Internet, I’m the ultimate junkie, loving the instant knowledge and instant connection the worldwide web provides.  Hearing a song before I download, buying shoes online so my feet don’t get tired from walking the mall, and keeping up with the antic of Grumpy Cat makes me feel empowered.

I also love the ability to connect with the world.  Everywhere is now local. Working from home is the best thing ever. Or is it?

Over the holidays, I was fortunate enough to ski at a beautiful resort—but the place had absolutely no cellular service. But for good reason. The quaint little mountain village sat smack in the middle of a national quiet zone—for an astronomical observatory.  And did folks ever bellyache. The tiny areas that supported Wi-Fi were more crowded than the slopes.

And what happens if our electronic communications go haywire as the Gloom-and-Doom prophets predict? Do you have paper copies of anything?

I know I should rely less on the Internet. I really shouldn’t need my cell phone more than my left arm, but for now—I’m a digital sheep in the electronic world.  That said, I’m going to print out a few things and make it a point to actually talk to folks in 2014.

What about you?  Are you worried that you might be addicted to your digital devices? Make a note to (fill in the blank) and write it down.  With a pencil.

Robin Weaver
Author of Blue Ridge Fear and Secret Language of Leah Sinclair