“What? Electricity is out?!” I had to notice when the fridge stopped humming, the wireless Internet stopped connecting, and my computer screen suddenly got darker from “power-saving mode.” All the sudden, it was as though my life was thrown into chaos. All the Internet resources, the TV cannot be watched, and even news and books (exclusively) online, cannot be accessed. It was instant isolation, and the passage of time suddenly slowed to a crawl.
Even at four o’clock on a bright, sunny, and still very much summer-like afternoon, it was as if darkness suddenly descended. The only source of “light” I have now is the battery of my notebook computer, slowly running her dwindling two hours of reserve power. Time is running out, my inner anxiety says. What can I do if electricity does not return within the next two hours, when all that my still-typing hands face is a blank, pitch dark computer screen that cannot respond to any further command?
Much can be said by the fact that I am feeling so emotional distraught by facing the prospect of literally not being able to operate anything with electricity in less than two hours. Some of our lives, especially those of “socially isolated” people like me right now, depend on electricity. Our “food source” is kept fresh by it. Our bodies are kept cool by it in the hot summer. And our mind is kept stimulated and entertained by it as a source of information.
Perhaps it is enough to say that humans are just too dependent on the Internet. It is after all, what we would miss the most when electricity is gone. It is social infrastructure in the purest sense: our route for communication, for learning, for playing, for simply killing time. Without it, it is as if a part of our brain has suddenly been taken away, leaving a huge chunk of painful dark void that no replacement can truly substitute in functionality or volume.
But what is worse is that the lack of electricity also destroyed all potential replacements that can possibly replace the Internet. Let us not even mention the television and other gaming devices that can be used to pass time. Even traditionally on-electric devices like newspapers and books cannot exist outside electricity (or more specifically, the Internet) anymore. The shrinking market for bookstores, newspaper stands, and traditional print media perfectly suggest the harsh reality.
In developed societies, such over-dependence on electricity is not only not a problem for society, but it is also completely encouraged as a matter of social progress. No one hesitate to label the “dawn of the digital revolution,” the “borderless interconnected world,” and the “advent of the information age.” The use of electricity for more complex tasks, often through the Internet and beyond, is heralded by all societies as strength and modernity.
But living in a developed society or developed regions of the developing world, one seem to forget that there are still so many people who has yet to be part of the “digital revolution,” live in the “information age,” and in short, embrace electricity for something more than some fancy foreign scientific concept used to power some fancy incomprehensible machines. The electricity they get is instable, unreliable, and not always available.
Yet they survive, and one day, they wish to become part of the developed world, without fully understanding what sacred position electricity has in those developed societies. They will suddenly realize, in the same way I felt when the electricity went out, that they are so isolated, so confused, so useless. But their distraught will not be as easy to resolve as mine. Years of accommodation and hands-on education are not easy as a flick of a switch. Will the developed world be ready?
Even at four o’clock on a bright, sunny, and still very much summer-like afternoon, it was as if darkness suddenly descended. The only source of “light” I have now is the battery of my notebook computer, slowly running her dwindling two hours of reserve power. Time is running out, my inner anxiety says. What can I do if electricity does not return within the next two hours, when all that my still-typing hands face is a blank, pitch dark computer screen that cannot respond to any further command?
Much can be said by the fact that I am feeling so emotional distraught by facing the prospect of literally not being able to operate anything with electricity in less than two hours. Some of our lives, especially those of “socially isolated” people like me right now, depend on electricity. Our “food source” is kept fresh by it. Our bodies are kept cool by it in the hot summer. And our mind is kept stimulated and entertained by it as a source of information.
Perhaps it is enough to say that humans are just too dependent on the Internet. It is after all, what we would miss the most when electricity is gone. It is social infrastructure in the purest sense: our route for communication, for learning, for playing, for simply killing time. Without it, it is as if a part of our brain has suddenly been taken away, leaving a huge chunk of painful dark void that no replacement can truly substitute in functionality or volume.
But what is worse is that the lack of electricity also destroyed all potential replacements that can possibly replace the Internet. Let us not even mention the television and other gaming devices that can be used to pass time. Even traditionally on-electric devices like newspapers and books cannot exist outside electricity (or more specifically, the Internet) anymore. The shrinking market for bookstores, newspaper stands, and traditional print media perfectly suggest the harsh reality.
In developed societies, such over-dependence on electricity is not only not a problem for society, but it is also completely encouraged as a matter of social progress. No one hesitate to label the “dawn of the digital revolution,” the “borderless interconnected world,” and the “advent of the information age.” The use of electricity for more complex tasks, often through the Internet and beyond, is heralded by all societies as strength and modernity.
But living in a developed society or developed regions of the developing world, one seem to forget that there are still so many people who has yet to be part of the “digital revolution,” live in the “information age,” and in short, embrace electricity for something more than some fancy foreign scientific concept used to power some fancy incomprehensible machines. The electricity they get is instable, unreliable, and not always available.
Yet they survive, and one day, they wish to become part of the developed world, without fully understanding what sacred position electricity has in those developed societies. They will suddenly realize, in the same way I felt when the electricity went out, that they are so isolated, so confused, so useless. But their distraught will not be as easy to resolve as mine. Years of accommodation and hands-on education are not easy as a flick of a switch. Will the developed world be ready?
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