Don’t let me be alone

Everybody is plugged in. I know I am, I know you are because you’re reading this. I also know that your mum is, and so are her girlfriends, you gran is plugged in, and only your granddad holds out.

In some way or another we’re all connected, and it’s more than just the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon, it’s one degree. Everyone is connected directly to the same global network that allows instantaneous communication between people on opposite sides of the globe, allows the free expression of ideas (unless you live in China, or a lot scarier, Australia, if the government have their way), and creates a pool of opinion and knowledge unparalleled in human history.

This has it’s up and it’s down sides, the hive mind can accumulate useful and inspiring information in amazing time, it allows collaboration of some of humanities greatest minds. It also allows that same collaboration between the deviants and depraved. Creating an interconnecting, living system, that has as dark a side as any person.

And we’re addicted to it.

I won’t admit for a moment that I’m addicted to the internet, because I’m not. What I am addicted to, like everybody else, is being connected to other people. Even when I’m enjoying some solitary time I can’t be disconnected from the world. If I’m out and about and I haven’t got my mobile phone on me I am constantly aware of it, I know that I’m disconnected from one of my primary lines of communication, even when surrounded by other people who have technological life lines.

Fear of isolation has been a part of the pack nature of humans for as long as there have been humans, we didn’t evolve as lone hunters supporting only ourselves, we surround ourselves with other people, for a sense of protection and for company. Now even when we’re alone we can have that same sensation, when I do my (perhaps obsessively too regular) brush of my pockets to ensure all my personal belongings are still there, knowing that I have my phone is important as having my wallet or my keys.

That doesn’t mean I love it all though. Take Facebook for example. I always refused to have a social networking account, I’ve always looked at them as the play things of teenage girls and lonely old people. Then, one night, after imbibing much alcohol, a friend(?) signed me up. And there I was.

Do I like Facebook? No, every single quiz, application, group and invitation I get I quickly hide before even reading it, it all seems pointless, sad, and a way for bored people to waste time. Do I check my Facebook every single day? Too right I do. I open it up, check out what people I haven’t seen for years are doing, comment on what my third cousin twice removed had for breakfast, and maybe even check out some photos. I’m bored with it within minutes (or seconds) and I close it. No further need do I have of this service.

And then it’s open, half an hour later… “I’m just going to ‘check’ my Facebook”

It keeps me connected. Same as having my laptop spend every waking moment idling in IRC channels, sure I might rarely involve myself in any conversations, but they’re always there. There are always people nearby if I need.

Of course, none of this is any real substitute to real actual company. The subtle shifts in room temperature from having another body in it, the sound of somebodies voice, a smell of perfume or cologne. A smile.