Cynthia Cleveland
Losing Touch
Human
connection is important to our survival as a species. Without that connection,
our ability to proliferate is threatened, as we would seek no companionship. The
advent of technology has seemingly thrown a wrench into the ways we seek
companionship, we find that it is much easier to go “online” and find a partner,
as opposed to going out into the real world and meeting someone. While this is
not problematic in itself, it says something about our reliance on technology.
As we progress, we find that our reliance and fascination with technology has
only increased; we spend countless hours interacting with a type of virtual
reality with real people on the other end, but it begs the question of whether
we are doing it too much. Technology will only continue to progress and our
fascination will likely follow suit. As our fascination grows, we become
increasingly more isolated and dive further into these virtual communities, and
to what effect? High-Tech and Low-Tech science fiction narratives seek to give
us an insight into that very question. While High-Tech focuses more on the
advancements of technology itself, we still get a glimpse into how such
advancements may affect our interactions with others as a side effect. Low-Tech
science fiction, conversely, focuses primarily on the emotional disconnect we
experience in a world where technology has taken over and how we cope with these
advancements while still retaining our ability to connect to others.
The
subgenre of the High Tech/Virtual reality narrative within science fiction very
much relies on a sense of adventure to captivate the reader. Many of the stories
gloss into the unbelievable and present us with an extremely artificial vision
of the world we know; we don’t get to the know the characters very well beyond
surface level and the narratives are almost always very action oriented. One
particular example of this is William Gibson’s “Johnny Mnemonic”, in which most
of the narrative presented is focused on relaying the story to the reader in a
matter-of-fact recall of events. The story only concerns itself with detailing
the technical aspects of the world and what body modifications separate each
individual from the other. What distinguishes this style from its sister
subgenre (Low Tech), is the lack of emotional connections between other human
beings or any rumination on their actions or the world they live in—it simply
is. This trend is much the same in Gibson’s “Burning Chrome”.
Gibson’s “Burning Chrome” dives a bit deeper than “Johnny Mnemonic” in regard to
the emotional connections made, but they are still fairly shallow—it barely goes
beyond a glint of concern for Rikki’s well-being and a hint of growing affection
that is never expounded upon, it seems only a matter of passing interest. Our
main character’s interest in Rikki only seems to be highlighted by Bobby’s lack
of real interest in her, which could be interpreted as pity in some instances
rather than genuine interest. The flashbacks presented in the story give the
reader the feeling of reflection, as they shift between the virtual reality in
which they are “burning Chrome” and Automatic Jack’s encounters with Rikki. From
these flashbacks, we get the impression that Jack has formed an attachment to
Rikki; however, it is clear that the virtual reality is the chasm between their
ability to form genuine human connection. This binary is a clever tactic by the
author to show how virtual reality—whether it be the virtual world Jack and
Bobby navigate or Rikki’s obsession with “Simstim”—can create a disconnect
between human beings. This objective is reinforced by Rikki’s desertion of
Automatic Jack as she leaves and seeks stardom in the “Simstim” world, despite
the obvious implication of a budding affection between the two of them. This
concept is very much alien in the Low-Tech subgenre, where emotion is the
guiding force.
Low-Tech narratives of the future rely on emotional connections to propel the
story forwards and to make a point about the world of technology in which we
live. Thomas Fox Averill’s “The Onion and I” is a world similar to Gibson’s
“Burning Chrome” in which virtual reality simulations are possible, however they
have not become integrated with everyday life. The concept of this story is
similar to Gibson’s in making a point to show how human connection and our sense
of reality is inhibited by the overuse of technology. The family is given the
opportunity to essentially live their lives in a virtual reality—all of their
possessions have been taken and “scanned” into their virtual world, and they
subsist on “protein paks” as they dine virtually in restaurants. Every aspect of
their life is digitized. While this seems like a convenient lifestyle, it
becomes apparent that this is problematic after the main character experiences
an existential crisis as a result of this lifestyle; he begins to question his
own existence after having been immersed in the virtual system for so long. The
lack of human interaction and connection is essentially the catalyst for such a
crisis; disconnecting from the system for long periods of time is impossible, he
does not get any real interaction with his mother or his father. It is only
after his father disconnects him from the system and plants the onion with him
that he realizes there must be a balance between real life and a virtual life.
This
concept of balance between virtual life and real life is evident in the contrast
of Low-Tech and High-Tech subgenres of science fiction. High-Tech narratives are
action oriented and rely on a sense of adventure, while leaving human contact
and interaction to the wayside. The High-Tech narratives are often violent and
consumed with themes of gadgetry and body modifications—it creates an atmosphere
of artificiality. In contrast, Low-Tech narratives are emotionally involved and
question whether technology in large doses is good for humanity as a whole.
Looking at High-Tech versus Low-Tech narratives, we can see how high usage of
technology is questionable. Characters within these High-Tech narratives become
so consumed with the artifice that they seem bereft of human emotion; Bobby’s
relationship with Rikki is superficial. They are both so consumed by their
desires—Rikki to get eye implants and Bobby to “burn Chrome” and make the big
score he’s always been dreaming of—that they seem coexist in a state of mutual
non-existence towards one another. That in itself is a warning that technology
can have such far-reaching effects on our capability to bond with others. This
concept makes itself much more evident in Averill’s “The Onion and I”, in which
the disassociation with reality causes the main character to question his own
existence. In this regard, we realize that a reliance and addiction to
technology is a slippery slope, and one that can result in an inability to
relate to others and the world around us. Overuse of such technology can cause
us to lose touch with the world around us, whether it is in the literal sense,
as in “The Onion and I” or our ability to recognize other human beings as more
than just tools in our toolbox to meet a goal, such as Bobby’s superficial
relationship to Rikki. Either way, it is evident that a balance must be reached
with our virtual existence and our real-world existence.
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