A Conversation With Myself

The biggest identity crisis I’ve ever gone through began two weeks ago, when I opened the front cover of a book titled Reclaiming Conversation, by Sherry Turkle. Throughout the book, Turkle explains the importance of conversation in different mediums of life using the metaphor of Thoreau’s three chairs. The first chair being conversations with yourself, the second being conversations with close ones, and the third being conversations with those you encounter in other places. Initially, this book served as a thought provoking assessment of society, its addiction to technology, and how that hindered conversation. But, as time went on and more pages were read, I realized that the book was actually the instigator for an assessment of myself. I started reading as a skeptical part-cyberlibertarian. But with every page turn I quickly found myself questioning everything I thought I knew about conversation with colleagues, friends, and most importantly - myself. As Turkle explained the importance of empathy, solitude, and the values that are being passed on to the next generation; I realized more than ever how indispensable technology has become to society. While carefully deliberating about my own reliance on technology, I became pessimistic that anything could be done to solve society’s issues. But, with the help of Turkle, I was able to realize that there doesn’t need to be an absolute answer or solution right now. The most important part of reclaiming conversation is to admit that there is a problem, and then use that as a framework to mentor society into its much needed change.

When it comes to social media and technology, I’ve always felt internally conflicted. On the one hand, I see the obvious addictive qualities of social media and technology usage in everyday life. I’ve noticed a change in the way that my friends and I interact with each other, and I’ve felt connections with other people getting weaker. On the other hand, I also see the importance of technology in society and I reap its many benefits every second of every day. Technology has single-handedly brought the entire world together in times of crisis, has given a voice to people who would have otherwise gone forever unnoticed, and has allowed for exponential innovation in almost every field imaginable. With this thought in mind, I began to read Turkle’s words with skepticism. In one instance specifically, Turkle proclaims “A day online has many of these “moments of more.” But as digital connection becomes an ever larger part of their day, they risk ending up with lives of less.” (22, Turkle). Lives of less. These words rang out in my head as I read them. Who am I to say that technology usage is inherently attributing to a life not as well lived? And what gives Turkle the right to make the decisions for which values are more important in today’s society? This was when I thought that the most important value at stake in this book was the ability to carry on a conversation with the person next to you. I didn’t realize that there was so much more to lose through negligent usage. Most importantly, I didn’t yet know the role of empathy - and how technology is eradicating it.

One of the biggest topics in Reclaiming Conversation is a study done on the students of Holbrooke Middle School. Teachers were claiming that the students weren’t able to understand the effects of their words on other students. “It is as though a signal is being jammed. Without this [seeing other people as yourself], his students can’t feel empathy or form secure attachments. It is an environment that fosters bullying and casual cruelty,” (166, Turkle). They were claiming that the student’s use of conversation through technology as opposed to real life was causing them to be unable to read emotions on someone’s face, making them inept empathetically. These are the students who will soon be going to college, joining the workforce, and contributing to some of the most important (and possibly detrimental) technological breakthroughs of our lives. And they can’t even read the emotions of their best friends. It was at this point that I started to realize the importance of conversation. It wasn’t about valuing speech, it was about the value of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes to learn more about them, and eventually more about yourself.

“When we are secure in ourselves, we are able to listen to other people and really hear what they have to say,” (10, Turkle). In Turkle’s examples of Thoreau’s chairs she explains that the first chair is for conversations with yourself, it is meant for solitude. It was during this passage that I began to really reflect on my own technology usage, and I asked myself when the last time was that I had silenced my phone and taken a moment to sit with just my thoughts. As I’m sure many other students my age would have realized, I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. So I did it. I reflected on why I became a software engineer. I thought about CPE 300 and what professional responsibilities meant to me. I realized that I have allowed technology to entice me into dismissing my online privacy. I realized that many platforms I always assumed were ethically neutral are in fact just the opposite, and have been swaying my opinion one way or another for most of my life. But most importantly, I realized that I have surrendered my ability to reflect on my own thoughts and to invest time into deeper connections with my loved ones for something as trivial as social media. It was during that moment that I was able to finally reflect on my own thoughts when I decided that something needed to change. Specifically, I decided to more highly prioritize the values of solitude and empathy in my life and in the lives of those around me. These values need to be upheld through my actions around others, and even moreso through my actions in the tech industry. Similar to Lawrence Lessig’s Code is Law, I can finally understand the real importance of ethical computing. Every line of code I write, trivial as it may seem, is inevitably changing the values of the future. It’s a double edged sword, and I am finally realizing I’ve been inadvertently squeezing it with my bare hands.

One of the ironic things that Turkle points out in her book is the fact that humans, specifically younger generations, have been turning to technology to try and fix the problems that it has caused. “The idea is that we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble with technology and technology can help us get out of it,” (361, Turkle). She explains that many people have started using apps to try and understand who they are, almost as if their phone can act as a digital therapist. While favorable in the short run, this has started to cause unintended consequences. Kids are turning to their phones for answers to questions that they are too afraid to ask their parents. They can’t ask their parents because they aren’t able to get them to take their attention away from their own phones. Instead of learning to be vulnerable in front of other humans to build their empathy and connection, they are creating idealized versions of themselves online. Instead of allowing themselves to learn adaptation in the fast pace of the tangible world, they are learning to predict patterns and escape their problems in the foreseeable future of the gaming world. In some senses, it seems too late to be able to fix these problems. Many say the younger generation has fallen too deep into the point of no return. It is exactly at this point that Langdon Winner would argue we take a step towards action before it is too late. This is the point when all people in the technology industry need to ask themselves what kind of world they want to create. This is when I need to take a stance and start figuring out what it is that I can do to try and insight change in others, before it really is too late.

I thought that the best starting point for change would be within the industry itself. In Reclaiming Conversation, Turkle explains a case study of a tech company called “HeartTech” that was having problems with their employees. People weren’t able to talk through their arguments in person, no one was paying attention during any meetings, and the culture seemed to be promoting isolation. The problem was that too many people were tuned into their work chats, which was causing them to be unpresent and even uncomfortable with conversation in the real world. It was less appropriate to walk to a coworkers office and talk to them than it would be to message them online at 2:00 am. I see this happening in almost every major startup today. “Managers mean well. They don’t want employees to be stressed. But everyone at this company is trying to prove that they are worthy of being there. Being always available, online, is the simplest way to show this.” (277, Turkle). This really took a toll on me. The idea of proving yourself at a tech startup and showing you are constantly connected has become such an entrenched practice, there didn’t seem to be any logical solution. But that’s when I realized the solution didn’t call for a digital alternative, it called for changing the norm of appropriateness. Helen Nissenbaum would suggest that the sphere of the workplace in the tech industry defines appropriate as responding to emails or chats as soon as you have your first available opportunity. While this may streamline some work conversations, it forces those responders to take themselves out of the present moment and hastily respond to something that may need more thought - two problems caused with one message. If we change the norm of appropriateness in the office so that people can respond by saying “I’m thinking,” and then further respond after careful deliberation and in a healthier environment, both of these problems could be solved. In order to start this change, it will only take me leading by example.

What about the appropriateness of the use of technology in everyday life? At a social event, in a coffee shop, and even at home it is considered appropriate to see someone on their phone when they are alone. In fact, in the case of an uncomfortable or awkward social situation, it is considered more appropriate to see people turn to their phones than to just sit there with their own thoughts. Over the past few weeks, I started to look at my peers and my friends more closely when I realized this. I did trials in social settings without my phone and I received strange looks from students my own age when I didn’t have my eyes locked on my screen. Everything that Turkle had been explaining in her book started to flood my mind in every single conversation I was having (or not having) with the people around me. I was just beginning to learn what it meant to reclaim conversation with myself, but I realized I was nowhere near reclaiming it with the people I spend the most time with. None of my friends would ever be willing to give up their phones after incorporating them so deeply into their lives. I felt lost and defeated. But then I remembered Turkle’s main premise: “laptops and smartphones are not things to remove. They are facts of life and part of our creative lives. The goal is to use them with greater intention,” (216, Turkle). I had finally figured out my solution to the problem. First, I needed to admit vulnerability to myself. Then, I needed to restructure my use of technology to frame the values that I understand are needed most. Finally, once I fully learn to do those things, I can act as a model for the cause and give others an example to follow for themselves. “The moment needs mentors with humility, acknowledging that just as parents model the behavior (texting during dinner) they then criticize in their children, managers often model the behavior they criticize in their employees… managers need to make conversation the norm.” (284, Turkle).

I never expected to find so much change within myself during the process of this class. I approach technology with a very different mindset than I ever did before. I’m creating an internal dialogue that hasn’t been there since before I had a Facebook account. Turkle has shown me that reclaiming conversation means so much more than it seems on the surface. It means reclaiming the values of solitude, societal responsibility, and empathy towards others. I may not have a perfect answer or solution right now. But I know that I’ve started something big, and it is my duty as a computer ethicist to share what I’ve learned about conversation with those around me. Then, it is up to industry and society to reclaim it.