Are computers running your life?

a really long but true read.

Extracted from here

Don't blame the gadgets

In an age of mobile communications, digital social networks and virtual worlds, we are able to connect with friends and strangers alike without breaking a sweat. Technology has bridged physical distances between people and given us a virtual meeting place.

But online interactions are often viewed with a mix of derision and suspicion, and are sometimes branded frivolous and superficial. Detractors would argue that technology dulls the warmth of human contact by encouraging people to hide behind bits and bytes.

Veiled by Photoshopped images of ourselves and masked by avatars, we forge hundreds of shallow liaisons across the digital universe and send virtual beers and hugs to one another, instead of meeting up, say, at a real pub in your neighbourhood. It seems that the more digitally-connected we are, the more disconnected we ironically become, the pro-(real)-life camp contends.

Even digital fiends, such as yours truly, have to concede that there is a grain of truth to that argument.

For example, of the 500 friends in your Facebook network, how many would you want to spend a Saturday afternoon with?

Are the fans who follow your "plurk" and "twitter" mini-blogs genuinely interested in your mundane life? Or are they passively peering into your life out of a voyeuristic sense of kaypoh-ness?

e-greeting vs no greeting

To me, the capability to connect with and unite a diverse bunch of people living in all corners of the world is precious. And there is no doubt that technology has strengthened - markedly - that ability to connect.

Sure, greeting someone in person is more intimate than sending a smiley via email, or instant messaging. But an electronic greeting beats no greeting at all.

What makes you think that you will develop a relationship more meaningfully in person without the cold intrusion of technological aids? Wouldn't it be more likely that a relationship won't be formed at all?

Is it such a bad thing to have Facebook help you keep in touch with someone you do care about, but haven't had the time to physically meet?

Online networking platforms like LinkedIn, Facebook and Friendster link us up with people whom you otherwise would have missed. What accounts for "superficial" connections versus "genuine" ones is also muddy.

The contacts on your online networks can be useful for your professional needs, even though they might not be people you want to spend after-office hours with.

Plus, relationships can grow online - the plethora of Internet dating sites available is testament to that.

It's not just for nerds

Contrary to what some say about technology being a treat for socially-maladjusted voyeurs, I think it has spun some fabulous tools for keeping up with others in a non-intrusive, subtle way.

An email or mobile text message doesn't invade anyone's space as much as a physical meet-up sometimes does. Status updates on your social networking site only inform your friends (simultaneously) about the things you are willing to share, nothing more.

It is the technology user's choice to post information he or she is comfortable revealing, and it is the same user's choice to consume information from others.

The sheer power of technology to connect is one that cannot be undermined.

How you choose to connect is your prerogative, as is the depth of your interpersonal interactions.

Technology is morally and emotionally neutral. Don't blame your tools for your misuse of them. You can harness technology to maximise interactions with one another, or you can let it be a limitation.

Don't use technology as an excuse for your unfulfilled and unfulfilling relationships.

Disconnect yourself, I say

What provides more "information" - an inbox filled to the brim with emails from three accounts, up-to-date news feeds collated from a dozen sites, memberships to multiple social networking sites... or a weekend at the beach?

With the information blitzkrieg that we sit through every day, one questions whether we really are better informed than previous generations.

It's an issue that's close to my heart. With a job that revolves around writing about technology, I do surf several websites, digest plenty of Web feeds and consume whatever the Internet throws at me - more so than any other sane man.

The daily digital onslaught sometimes gets the better of me and I grow jaded, leaving feeds unread and chucking irrelevant email mercilessly into the virtual trash bin.

But on recent personal trips, where I chose to be in a situation to disconnect - no emails, no Internet and few text messages and calls in between - I made small, yet vital, discoveries about myself and the world around us, about information that might not flow in the sinews of fibre optic cables, but through human contact.

As I sat nestled in a Balinese villa watching a glorious sunset, my life seemed to be put on pause. It just isn't the same if you juxtapose a similar scene in all its high-definition glory on a laptop, even with the screen's warm, artificial glare.

I'd been ping-ponging messages on Facebook among friends to plan for the trip, but despite all the online banter, I found that we only forged real bonds frolicking in the sun, shooting the breeze, hearing foreign tongues and filling our tum-tums with exotic fare.

Disconnect, I say.

It's only when we hit the pause button on our digital selves that we recalibrate. Put our digital lives on hold and cocoon ourselves for a bit, away from the noise; away from the chaos; away from the Internet.

That digital pause isn't wasted time. You're still thinking, and that break is just what the doctor ordered to gather your thoughts and keep you on course.

Being hyper-connected via every conceivable technological device is overrated. Despite the light-speed rates of our brain synapses, I don't think we've evolved fast enough to keep up with the daily tsunami of data.

Of course, we should not disregard the conveniences the Internet brings in terms of telecommuting and communication. But to get any real value out of the information we've inherited from the Web, we need to disconnect ourselves and plunge into the real world.

Social experiences online are a good bearing of this. Despite instant messaging and the few hundred contacts on Facebook, I find that it seems a bit "plastic".

It's a far cry from an honest handshake and well-meaning eye contact, made more disposable with the easy sputter of words and fancy emoticons.

Even tech entrepreneurs are arranging meetups in "meatspace" (that's the real world for you and me) as an aside to their rabid online hookups.

MySpace isn't where I want to be, I'm afraid. Rather, it's my space - the real world - that matters.